It puckered tighter and my cunt clenched. The lightness of his touch, coupled with the absence of his hand on my throat, left me vibrating with awareness of him.
When he extended to the torture to my other nipple, I pressed my shoulders back and leaned into the contact. All it succeeded in doing was making him chuckle and he lightened his touch to that of a ghost.
So. Frustrating.
Another sound escaped me, but his laughter was infectious. Because he was enjoying my reactions. Truth be told, as much as I ached for more, I savored every nuance of this—his fantasy.
Just when I’d grown accustomed to the feather light soft touches, he suddenly traced his tongue over one turgid tip. The unexpected contact sent a jolt through that only magnified when he blew a breath over the damp nipple. Heat flushed my chest and my face.
With my eyes hidden, I could almost imagine that I lit up like a blazing neon sign. Then he bit that nipple. The scrape of his teeth an erotic promise that had me swaying. Another nuzzling kiss, this one to the neglected nipple and he pulled it taut to his teeth.
A hiss of air escaped me as he sucked harder, tracing his tongue against the tip. His wandering hand dipped between my legs and I bucked at the single brush of his finger to my clit.
Need throbbed through me. The embarrassing sound I released disguised nothing of my reactions. I soaked his hand and I swore I could feel my pulse in my clit.
“I like you like this,” he whispered against my breast. “Panting, needy, and so wet for me, it perfumes the air.”
His hand left my slit even as he pulled back from my breast. The sound of light sucking followed by an hmmmm, sent another shudder through me. He was lapping me up from his fingers.
I could hear him, but not see him. The pleasure of witnessing his reactions a new torture in this assault on my senses.
“Are you still willing to let me play, Lainey B?”
“You can have me whatever way you want me.” The stutter in my words only served to illustrate my point. I wanted him. I was fine with everything he needed.
Whatever everything was.
“I love you,” he whispered, the simplicity of those words at odds with the dark emotion in his voice. Then, he added in a far more commanding tone, “What do you say if you need me to stop?”
I couldn’t deny that tone even if I wanted to and I really didn’t want to. “Stop.”
“Good.”
Then he was gone, his touch, his whispered words, even his breathing. I knelt there on the bed, chillier in his absence with my breasts aching and my body cold and yet flushed in the same moment.
Whispers of sound reached me. In the absolute quiet of the room, it was so loud. A part of my mind tried to track his movements. What was he doing? Why was he doing it? But only a part of my mind, the rest of me waited, anticipation curling in my belly.
Something exquisitely soft rubbed along my arm. A fresh wave of goosebumps spread out over my skin. It seemed even softer than the mask, if that was possible. Or maybe it was the fur lining that added to the sensation.
Either way, I sighed. A soft rip of velcro and then the softness wrapped around one wrist and sealed shut. Then the other. Head tilted, I tried to follow his movements.
He nudged me onto my side, then stroked a hand over my hip and along my flank until he wrapped another cuff around my right ankle. Then my left. Everywhere he touched me, he left a little trail of arousal that just seemed to build.
With careful hands, he pulled back up to my knees then there was something soft and silken wrapping around my throat. This didn’t come with the rip of velcro, but instead the faintest of little clicks.
“An emerald?” The tease fell from my lips so easily and he chuckled.
“Emeralds do look beautiful on you, Buttercup. Even better when decorating something inside of you. This is different.” He smoothed his hand over the collar—and it was very much a collar for how it hugged my throat like his hand did. There was something at the center, an oval-like object that was harder than the rest.
A cameo?
“Something special, for you.” A whisper of a kiss over my lips. “But later… now, can I gag you?”
“With your cock?” The brief moment of silence before he let out a sharp, warm, and wonderful laugh made me grin.
“Tempting,” he whispered, teasing his knuckles along my cheek. “So very tempting. But no, I want to gag you so that you can’t speak. You will still be able to make sound, but no words. Is that alright with you?”
Head tilted, I didn’t need long to consider my answer. It was right there. “Yes. Whatever you want.”
“You will spoil me,” he whispered against my ear and I shivered, not opposed to that idea at all.
The gag, as it turned out, proved a more challenging choice for him. He tried three before he settled on the last, it had a small ball in it that would let me bite down, but it didn’t cut into the corners of my mouth and it actually fit comfortably. The fact it tasted a bit like strawberries and nothing like rubber also helped.
“Now, I know I said you had to say stop,” he continued as something soft began to rub against my arm. “The gag will prevent you from speaking, so I need you to choose a sound that tells me to stop.”
I considered that for a moment as he threaded what I presumed was rope around my chest, until he criss-crossed my breasts. It lifted and separated them. The snug fit was comfortable, even more so when he began drawing it down to my legs and in between them.
For a moment, I worried he was going to have me straddling it, but instead of sliding it along my slit, it wrapped against the inside of my thighs. There was something elegant and soothing about the way he wrapped me. I went from being on my knees, to on my feet, to my side, to my hands and knees.
There was something relaxing in the motion and letting him position me wherever he wanted. He hummed as he worked, checking with me periodically until he finally threaded his rope through loops on the wrists bands and the ankle ones then along my back.
I was well and truly tied up. I don’t think I’d ever been this turned on before and he wasn’t teasing or touching me more than necessary. Yet my cunt was soaking and I hadn’t missed his happy little sound when he’d had his hands between my legs.
The scent was also unmistakable. If my nose wasn’t wrong, he was no less turned on than I was. “You… look exquisite like this, Lainey B.” The sheer pleasure in his voice sent hot tears to my eyes. “Perfection. Lovely. Powerful. Sweet. Utterly mine in every way… mine to love, mine to serve, and mine to enjoy.”
My throat convulsed as he nuzzled kisses to my breasts. I was the perfect captive audience, upon which he lavished praise and adoration. He punctuated his kisses with nips, scrapes of his teeth, and long drawn out suction that sent pulses of pure need to my cunt.
A groan escaped him as he traced kisses against my shoulders, as he moved around behind me. The beauty of this was I had no control, none, and yet I wasn’t worried. Bodhi had me. He would let nothing happen to me.
