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Aurora didn’t know exactly how long she’d lain on that table, but it was easily long enough for her to decide that if this was really who she suspected it was, she was going to cut his dick off.
Finally she heard footsteps, then felt warm breath on her ear as he leaned in close to speak.
“My guess is that this is the first time you’ve ever been tied up, isn’t it Aurora?”
Her captor paused for a long time, and she realized he actually expected a response. What was she supposed to say to that? When nothing else came to mind, she opted for the truth.
“Yes.”
She wanted to demand to know who he was—her suspicions needed confirming—and what the fuck he thought he was doing, but partly out of fear and partly out of a desire not to antagonize him, she fell silent after her one-word reply. He had moved close to her now, she could tell, and when she heard his voice again it was a whisper in her ear that immediately gave her goosebumps.
“A body like this is made to be used and enjoyed by a man like me. You would know that by now if you hadn’t run away, little girl.”
Run away? Yeah, it was definitely him.
Before she could verbalize any of her questions, he nipped her earlobe with his teeth.
The bite didn’t hurt, but something about that was even scarier than if it had. It hadn’t been painful; it had been possessive. Like whether she knew it or not, she already belonged to him in some deep and shameful way that was making her pussy clench despite her situation.
Unsure what reaction he wanted, she lay there on the table saying nothing, her scantily clad body trembling as he slowly, teasingly ran his fingertip from her just nibbled earlobe down the side of her neck, over her t-shirt covered chest—barely avoiding her instantly stiff right nipple—all the way down over her tummy and then over her panty-clad pubic mound, along her bare inner thigh and all the way down her leg to her foot. As the fingertip made its long, slow journey, it left a tingling sensation behind that soon migrated straight to her core.
“I’m going to enjoy every moment of this, Aurora,” her captor said, his voice even huskier than it had been before, “almost as much as I’m going to enjoy fucking you for the first time.”
Was he going to finish stripping her now?
The fact that she knew implicitly that what little clothing she wore would soon be coming off was not the most disturbing aspect of that thought. The truly concerning part was the undeniable anticipation that mingled with her fear at the thought of being bare and on display for this man. As if reading her mind, he slid just his fingertip underneath the waistband of her panties. It was as if the gesture came with unspoken, but implicitly understood words:
Yes, these panties will be coming off soon enough, but not quite yet.
Slipping his finger free, he slid it back up her tummy and over her chest. This time he didn’t avoid her nipples, both of which she had no doubt were stiff enough to be clearly visible through her shirt. He circled each one, his touch gentle enough to just barely brush the fabric against her sensitive little buds, each in their turn. Then, moving his hand up her neck, he brushed his thumb over her lips. Her quick intake of breath that followed must have further confirmed both her arousal and her desperate hunger for him to do exactly what he did next.
He kissed her.
Gently, at first, as if waiting to see how she would respond. A part of her—the part that was still pretending to want to escape—demanded that she bite him. But the rational part, which had been siding with the wanting-to-escape part up until this point, demanded that she resist that urge. There was no way she could injure him sufficiently with a bite to somehow win her freedom, and even if she somehow sent him skulking from the room like some wounded beast returning to his den to recuperate, she would still be here tied to the table with no means of escape. All of that was compelling, of course, but the truth was it had nothing to do with why she didn’t bite him.
The reality was that she was too busy trying to resist kissing back.
He continued his light caress of her lips with his own until her resistance broke down and she returned the kiss.
Then, suddenly, the gentleness was gone and he took her upper lip in his teeth, biting down hard enough to hurt without being truly painful. He forced his tongue into her mouth—or he would have forced it if she hadn’t opened just enough to accept it.
This was more than a kiss now. He was claiming her mouth.
In that moment, she realized that she had never truly been kissed before. She’d thought she had been, of course, but she was realizing now what a kiss really was.
Her body strained upwards, desperate to be pressed against his, and though her bonds remained intact, he obliged her partially by sliding his hand underneath her head and forcing his hips more firmly onto her own. His right hand roamed down to her still cloth-covered nipples, pinching them firmly one at a time, then lower still to press firmly against her panty-covered clit.
He kept them there, rubbing hard and fast, until she was on the edge of what she knew would be a devastating climax. Then both the kiss and his fingers stopped, and he pulled back.
“Not yet, Aurora. It’ll be a while longer before you come. And you’ll beg before you do.”
Aurora remained straining against her bonds on the table, her body quivering at the edge of an orgasm to which she was unable to bring herself. If only she could touch her clit, if only she could rub it against something, she would be mere seconds away. But at last, she lay limp and defeated on the table.
“You’re so deliciously adorable when you pout, my babygirl,” he said, his voice somehow both adoring and patronizing at the same time.
His babygirl?
She had to admit hearing him call her that gave her butterflies in a good way.
