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He looked at her hands. Her fingers were meshed, the cuffs chinking as she fidgeted fretfully, her hands hovering close to the surface of her panties where her clit was swollen and pounding. He didn’t miss a thing. “How wet are you?”
She didn’t need to think about it. Her underwear clung to the groove of her pussy. The fabric would need to be peeled away from her aroused folds. She shifted her weight from one heel to the other, her eyes closing as she replied. “Very wet.”
Tension filled the air between them. She wanted him badly, wanted him inside her where her body was begging to be filled. She took a step toward him.
He shook his head, drawing her to a sudden halt, then gestured at a chair to her left. “Put one foot on that chair, open your legs and show me how wet you are.”
His commanding tone left no room for maneuver, but action meant reaction. They were getting closer to what she needed, what they both needed. Swearing under her breath, she followed his instruction. As she lifted her foot and planted the stacked heel on the surface of the chair, she drew her cuffed wrists close against her lower abdomen and saw the way his eyes darkened as she exposed her panties.
“Oh yes, you are wet.” His lips remained apart as he stared at her. “Touch yourself.”
She rested her hand over her pussy, rubbed one of the metal cuffs over her mound, and groaned aloud. Her clit leapt when the pressure of the metal rolled over the fabric covering it.
When he rose to his feet, her level of expectation shot higher still, leaving her breathless, dizzy and swaying. He padded across the floor, bare feet silent. When he stepped close against her, her heart thudded so hard she thought she might crack. Her sense of balance was quickly lost and she shifted her raised foot back to the floor, her heel slamming down hard.
“Easy now,” he said, then rested his thumbs in the band on her panties. His breath was warm on her face and her back arched, her hips gravitating toward his on instinct.
He squatted in front of her and rolled her underwear down over her hipbones, growling quietly when her pussy was exposed. She stepped out of the panties. When he stood, he kissed her fiercely, his tongue claiming her mouth. Meanwhile he stroked her pussy, squeezing it in his hand, sending her clit wild. She whimpered, entirely locked to his actions.
He moved his right hand to cup her buttock, squeezing the flesh in his hand.
Her skin prickled with anxiety. She inhaled deeply.
“Bend over the table.” He grasped her by the shoulders and turned her round, bending her over the dining table and pressing her down onto it, his hands roaming over her exposed buttocks as if he couldn’t get enough of them.
She slumped gratefully over the table, her bottom lifting. As soon as she was in position he delivered a sound slap to her buttock. The sting and the suddenness of it made her shudder. He kissed one shoulder, a fleeting anchor that made her glance back at him. When she met his stare, he gave her a wicked grin and spanked her again. Each sting fuelled the need for more physical contact. Heat speared from the points of contact, as if each strike connected with the pounding pulse that had been raging inside her.
“Giles!?
?
“Yes, you love it, don’t you?” He traced his fingers across the sensitive niche at the top of her thighs, making brief, maddening contact with her pussy. Then he pushed her legs farther apart with a demanding knee. “Let me see you.”
Pleasure, pain and shame quickly engulfed her, swamping her with another wave of desire. He ran a knowing thumb back and forth over her clit. Her body was so wired that she reached orgasm moments later, crying out with relief. She was still shuddering when she heard the sound of the condom wrapper being torn open. He opened her up with two fingers and eased his cock inside her, capturing her as she ebbed back from the edge, quickly sending her back to it again.
“Giles, so good,” she whispered in relief, suddenly filled with him, her innards melting with pleasure and clasping him gratefully. When he brushed against her buttocks it sent shock waves through her. Her body was singing. She grasped at the table for anchorage, her cuffs rattling against the wood surface.
He kneaded her flesh, hauling her buttocks apart, his cock nudging deeper into her swollen pussy. He groaned with pleasure as he bent over her back, sliding in and out, filling her to the hilt.
“Oh yes.” She shuddered with sensation, her hands clawing for the far edge of the table.
“Good?” he murmured against her back. When she moaned agreement, he thrust again. “Is this just a game to you, a bit of rough play, or does it mean more?”
He stroked her hair back, encouraging her to turn her head.
“Giles…please.” She put her cheek to the bare wood of the table, giving herself over to him.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” Her hips lifted and she pushed back, offering herself, but Giles rested his hand on the small of her back, stilling her and keeping her under his control.
The slow deep thrusts hypnotized all of her senses, leading her into ecstasy.
He breathed close against her ear, his thrusts slowing. “What do you see, over there on the floor?”
She was so close to coming, but he ran his knuckles along her jaw then pointed. She blinked and focused. A black lacquered box stood against the wall, and a length of rope spilled out of it onto the floor. She hadn’t even noticed it before, so focused was she on him, her lover. Now she saw it, and she knew what he’d been leading her to. “Oh God.”
The crown of his cock massaged her deeply at her center, as if his arousal grew in response when she looked at his offering. She moaned loudly, unable to hold back.
