Three and a Half Weeks(55)

Playing nice, she does as he asked. Ian takes a moment to admire the scene: enfolded in the downy comforter, the contrast of her long, dark hair, black stockings and shoes, and kohl-rimmed eyes against the crisp white is visually alluring. Again, he has to adjust his pants. He takes the first scarf and ties it to her right wrist, checking to make sure it’s not too tight. Drawing her right knee up, he ties her ankle to the long end of the wrist cuff. “It’s really too bad that hotel beds have nothing to lash these to, but I’m a determined man.”

Ian repeats the process on her left side so her arms and legs are bound together but not lashed to the bed. She tests the binds by closing her legs and looks satisfied at her relative freedom of movement. He picks up a third scarf and his lips stretch into a wicked grin. He ties one end to her right cuff and then runs the scarf under the mattress to the other side, where he ties it to the other. Now she can’t move, nor close her legs. She’s at his complete mercy.

“Okay?” he asks.

She nods, her eyes wide and slightly panicked. Perfect: a little apprehension will only enhance the experience for them both. Ian reaches into his pocket and then crawls on the bed with one knee, leaning between her legs. “Now, I will allow you to come anytime or as much as you want, Ella, but you may not move an inch or make any noise whatsoever,” he warns as he places three cobalt blue marbles on her belly, in a straight line. One immediately sinks into her navel. “I will not appreciate it if you make me lose my marbles. Are we clear?”

“I’m afraid that ship has long since sailed,” she says with a breathy laugh. “What happens if the marbles roll off?”

Shaking his head and tsk tsking, he says, “You don’t want to know. Trust me—it will be ugly.”

“How ugly?”

“Hmmm, let’s see. Spanking? Perhaps. Tickling? Almost definitely. Orgasm denial? Without a doubt. Giant anal plug? Possibly. I might even give you another go at it if you lose a marble or two but if I do permit that generosity, you will get nipple clamps first. Then if one or two marbles slip, it will earn you a tug on the clamp chain. Let’s just see how it goes, shall we?”

With that comment his head dips down between her legs and his tongue begins a relentless, unerring torment. Two of the marbles slide off almost immediately.

His head comes up; he attempts an expression of profound disappointment while trying hard to mask his amusement. “Oh, Ella. You didn’t even last a few seconds. Is that really the best you can do?”

“Just so we’re clear, Ian, I want you to know that I plan to murder you in the most painful way possible as soon as you untie my hands and legs. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He wags his finger back and forth. “Eh, eh, eh, you do not have permission to speak.” He gets up and retrieves another item from the pile on the table. “I’m going to choose to be generous and give you another chance.”

He takes her right breast into his mouth and sucks so hard she gasps sharply. When he pulls away, he replaces his mouth with the clamp. It stings but it’s not too bad—that is, until he tightens it beyond endurance.

“Ow! That really hurts!”

“Take a few deep breaths and it will subside.” His voice is confident and reassuring. He does the same with her other breast. Running down from each clamp is a delicate silver chain and the two connect together into one chain—a leash of sorts—that dangles down past her belly.

“Ready to try again?”

She whimpers. “I’m going to lose them again; I know it. Damn it, Ian: do you think you could do it? It’s damn near impossible.”

“Control, Ella. You need to work on maintaining better control.”

When his head dips down again, she stops him. “Wait. What do I win if I manage to keep the marbles still?”

“You get a big—giant, really—and hard… kiss.” He pauses for a long beat. “…as I fuck you into next week.” And he begins again.

Motivation. This time she manages to keep still for a little while but not silent. Far from it: does she even realize she’s moaning loudly the whole time? Ian can’t help but smile against her flesh. He stops to unzip his pants and put on a condom and then leans in to continue.

“Oh, no, you don’t. I want to see you naked. It’s only fair,” comes her husky voice and she picks up her head, expecting him to comply and to watch him undress.

Fair enough. He straightens and removes his shoes by pushing one off with his other and kicking them away. Unbuttoning his shirt, he keeps his eyes on hers the whole time, enjoying how they seem to darken as the pupils dilate with her excitement. It’s proof she finds him as attractive as he finds her, and it strokes his ego. When he’s entirely naked but for the condom, he slides back down between her legs to give her that long awaited orgasm. She earned it and fair is fair.