A gasp leaves me shaking.
“I want to push into your tight little ass as you hang from the ceiling with your arms behind your back and your entire body tied up with rope, like the perfect little present for me to unwrap.”
He places his hands behind his back, as if he doesn’t trust himself to reach for me. Then he steps forwards, making my heart pound loudly as I tilt my head up to look at him. “But do you know what I want more, my queen?”
His breath whispers across my lips.
I shake my head. All of that sounds really fucking good to me.
“I want you…” His lips are so close, but I don’t dare lean forwards. I want to be good. I want to be rewarded. “To take care of yourself.” Straightening, he pivots, then strolls out of the bathroom. “Now come.”
It takes me a moment to breathe, let alone get my legs to work well enough to stumble after him. By the time I catch up to him, he’s in the bedroom, carrying a dress from the closet. He lays it down on the bed, spreading the full-length blood-red fabric out, its skirt trailing over the edge. But as gorgeous as it is with the black thorns trailing up from the bottom and the twisty vines looping around the waist to make a corset, it is the rigid thong-looking thing beside it that grabs my attention.
“What’s that?” I ask as I step up to him.
“This is a chastity belt.”
My pulse skips a beat as I recall that’s what he called the thing I fashioned in an attempt to guard my pussy from his tongue and hands so I could think clearly enough to kill him. Mine did not work as well as I fear this one will.
“Ah,” I say nervously. “And how does it work?”
Picking it up, he turns to face me. “Drop your towel.”
Swallowing, I do so, and his eyes run hungrily down my body, trailing electricity across my skin.
“The leather has been made stiff,” he says tightly. “There is padding along the inside edges” –he lifts it to show me– “so the only thing that touches you will be them.” He drops to his knees to slip it between my thighs. Only the front of it is rigid, and the edges on the inside rest where my pussy meets my thighs. It is clothing me without touching me. He adjusts the back strap up my ass, then the top one around my waist.
“How does it fit? Is it uncomfortable anywhere?” Down on his knees still, he looks up at me.
“Um… it’s different. But not bad.”
“How about now?” He presses his face against it.
I cry out as I slip my fingers through his hair. I can feel his tongue stroking my skin on either side of the belt, but even when I push against his lips, my pussy is denied all pressure. The fucking edges dig into me enough to hurt, but it doesn’t matter how I rock my hips, I cannot make contact where I need it.
Whimpering, I pull back. “I don’t like it.”
“Colour?”
Begrudgingly, I say, “Green.”
He kisses it, but Ican’t feel it.
My toes curl with frustration as he rises.
With his hands on my hips, he pivots us, then lowers me down onto the bed so I’m sitting on the edge. I wince. “Is it still comfortable?” Richard asks as he studies me closely.
“Yes. My ass is just a bit sore.”
“Do you want a wand?”
I shake my head. “The soreness makes me think of you.”
He grins. His eyes drop to the RM on my breast. “I like seeing my marks on you.”
I cup my breast, and my lips part as I watch him struggle with the decision to keep his hands off me. For now. Until he decides to touch me.
“I don’t want to force you to listen to me,” he says as he locks his violet eyes on mine. “I want you to choose to listen because you know what I can do for you. When you get down on your knees for me, it should be because you are giving me the gift of your trust, not because you’re afraid of what I’ll do if you don’t.Thatis the appeal, my queen. Not your submission in and of itself. But your complete and utter trust that I will care for you.
