My eyes are still closed, my head dropped low. My breathing is weak and shallow, too, and my ears are saturated by the sensual tones of the calm music. My flesh screams for his touch. However he wants to do it. However he wants to take me.
I feel my bra being removed, and the slow lift of my hand to meet the gold manacle. It clips into place and he kisses me again before slowly guiding my free hand to the other gold shackle.
I’m bound, spread on the cross, and at his mercy. But I’m one hundred percent safe, and I’m one hundred percent comfortable.
“Look at me, baby,” he whispers, stroking my cheek.
My heavy lids lift and I’m crippled by dark green pools of pure love. Sliding his hand around the nape of my neck, he pulls me forward slightly so our faces are as close as can be without touching. “Better.” His mouth meets mine tenderly, and I close my eyes, opening to his soft lips willingly, but not frenzied. I feel calm and serene as he leisurely works his tongue through my mouth, rolling, lapping, and withdrawing before evenly plunging back inside to continue lazily seducing me. He’s holding my neck firmly, kissing me like I’m glass, and I have no physical hold of him. His mouth is giving me everything I need. Trailing his lips to my ear, he runs his tongue up the edge of my lobe, my cheek pushing into his jaw, his light stubble comforting and so familiar. I’m riddled with tingles, every scrap of my form buzzing to the erotic routine of his lips. And then they leave my ear and he pulls away. “Eyes, baby.”
I rip my eyes open with some determined effort and watch as he shrugs off his shirt, the revealing of toned, smooth flesh attacking my eyes. My gaze drifts all over the hard vastness of his chest, over his pecs, over his abdomen, over his scar. The sight makes me shift in my heels and wish that I wasn’t bound. But I’m quickly distracted from my need to lay my hands on him when his belt is unfastened, along with his button and zipper, and he’s pushing his trousers down his robust thighs.
He’s standing before me, uncovered and unforgivingly phenomenal. I’m not serene any longer. I’m fighting the instinct to wrestle with my restraints and shout a demand for contact. He must catch my pending loss of control because he’s pressed up to my body in a split second and looking down into my desperate eyes.
“Let the music sink back in, Ava. Control it.”
I try, but with his naked muscles spread all over my restrained frame, it’s just way too hard. “I can’t,” I admit unashamedly. I’m not ashamed. I’m consumed. I close my eyes again, willing some strength from my weakness to obey him. My hands are suddenly warm from his palms encasing the fists I have formed and I flex them silently, showing my cooperation. He releases me before lightly dragging his fingers up the insides of my arms, a flurry of goose bumps tracking their path, until he’s on my chest and cupping both of my breasts. My eyes are still closed, but I know his mouth is moving in. I can feel his breath spreading further over my skin the closer he’s getting. And then there is the unmistakable heat of his mouth completely closed around my right breast. His tactic is exact. He sucks deeply, rolls his tongue slowly, and pulls back to kiss my nipple sweetly before repeating, sucking, rolling, and kissing. My head falls back, and I moan, a low, raspy noise of surrender. I soak up the attentive motions as I quietly sigh and let my head go completely limp. A buzzing has developed between my thighs and is beating a steady, consistent thrum.
I feel his teeth clamp painfully onto my nipple and my head flies up on a small cry. He doesn’t release me, even though it’s obviously painful. He just gazes up through his long lashes at me struggling to deal with the pressure. He smiles a little around my breast, and my nipple is released, the blood rushing back in as he sucks it back to life. I release a quiet gasp.
“My beautiful girl is learning to control it,” he muses, drawing my knickers down my thighs and tapping each ankle to lift. Pecking his way between my breasts, up my throat, and back to my lips, he cups me delicately and then slowly pushes two fingers inside of me. I’m panting immediately.
“Shhhh,” he whispers. “Soak it up, Ava. Feel every single bit of pleasure that I bless you with.” His fingers pull free and firmly drive forward again, deep and high. He might be measured and soft, but my muscles are gripping him harshly. And then they’re gone, but before I can voice a frustrated complaint, I feel the soaking wet head of his cock meet the very tip of my clit. I don’t miss the slight, sharp intake of breath from him, but I’m too drunk on his heated touch to tell him to control it. He guides himself around, rolling the steel, slippery head across me, getting his face up close to mine and breathing heavily all over my lips. Our eyes lock, complete adoration clashing between them, and he slowly lowers his lips to mine. It’s a kiss of passion and it’s full of heat and devotion.