Again with her ridiculous god-like strength, she grabs my wrists and forces them above my head. Gripping them in one small palm and taking the leather strap and binding my wrists to the bed frame.
Once finished, she gives them a tug, a self-satisfied grin taking over. “There. That’s what happens when you don’t listen to orders.”
I roll my eyes. “You were going to do it anyway.”
“Maybe.” She chuckles as she moves down my body, dragging her wet folds over my stomach, leaving a trail of her essence as she goes. “Now I get to have my fun with you.”
With her still seated on my stomach, she reaches back and glides her fingers over my thighs. When she gets to the juncture where thigh meets pussy, she skims her digits along, missing everything that’s important yet still collecting my wetness.
“My, my, how wet you are, dove. Did eating my pussy turn you on? Did you enjoy it?”
“I–” As soon as my mouth opens she taps my clit with enough force to have me tugging on the restraints and bucking my hips up into her.
“Sorry, what was that?”
“Yes, I enjoyed it.” I grumble out as she goes back to stroking around my pussy but not touching it.
“Enjoyed what?” I growl but it does nothing to wipe the shit eating grin from her face. “Tell me and I’ll touch you.”
With a desperate need, I whine, “I enjoyed eating you out, it turned me on so much that I’m drenched for you.”
She laughs again, somewhat amused by my response. Slapping my pussy again has me trying again. “Fuck, please touch me. I enjoyed eating your pussy. Fuck, you were delicious and so help me, please fucking touch me.”
Her laugh is matched by a third slap to my clit. The sensation coiling in my stomach and causing more liquid to pool out of me.
“Next time we could do without so much colourful language, but I suppose I should give you your reward.”
A barely there touch registers over my clit as the pads ofher fingers ghost over my flesh. My skin heats to feverish levels, begging with the need of relief only she can give me.
My hips shudder, rising up to meet her touch. She chuckles before trailing her fingers to my entrance, circling but never entering me. The sharp tilt of her mouth has my heart rate increasing. She’s going to make me work for this.
She’s going to make me lose my mind before she lets me come.
Somehow she knows exactly what I need to keep me distracted.
I whine, “Please, Tally.”
Then she spears me on two fingers.
My chest heaves as the pain of being split open ebbs into pleasure and she starts to move. The pads of her fingers brushing against the spot that makes flames dance in my vision. With every thrust, tremors work their way through me and I want nothing more than to be able to move my arms and grab onto her.
Damn her for using leather. And for being damn good at knots. I have no chance of breaking out of this until she’s willing to let me go.
Her thumb comes down onto my clit and I arch off the bed. Loud wails pour from my throat as her fingers obliterate me. Fingers wrap around the leather bounds and tug as my orgasm approaches. The heat in the base of my stomach spreads across my limbs as I struggle to remember what I even needed distracting from.
“Open your eyes, dove. Look at me whilst I make you come.” With a start, I pry my eyes open, instantly locking on her. When did I shut them? I don’t remember. Probably somewhere between her teasing strokes and being stretched open.
She still wears the same grin, the one glinting with mischief and mayhem.
Gluing my gaze to hers, I let my moans pour out of me. Her fingers expertly opening me up and filling me to the brim. Her thumb drawing torturously tight circles over my clit.
I feel like I’m burning from the inside out. The need to come rippling through me.
A continuous cycle of, “Tally, please,” falls from my mouth as I fight to keep my eyes open, trapped in her gaze.
My breath hitches with the desperate need for oxygen.
The drilling of her fingers increases. Rapidly hitting the spongy spot inside of me.
