Page 44 of Sweet Captivity


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A shudder rolled through me when Andrés flipped on the crimson lights. My gaze went straight to the spanking bench, and I took a small step back toward the sitting room.

"No, cosita," he said soothingly, wrapping his arm around my waist and guiding me forward. It might have been a sweet gesture, but the way his fingers curled around my hip communicated his control. "We're not using the bench today," he promised, leading me past it. "Do you know what this is? You have my permission to speak."

I blinked and looked down where he pointed. I recognized the black device that curved up in a half-sphere, the flat side resting on the floor. It was built to be straddled. If I went down on my knees, the curve would fit between my thighs as I lowered my weight onto it.

"A Sybian," I answered breathily, knowing exactly what it was.

"Such a clever, kinky virgin," he said with pleasure.

"But I can't... There's not a dildo attached." In all the porn I'd seen, women rode huge dildos as they bounced up and down on the vibrating machine.

"My fingers and my cock will stretch your tight little pussy before I put anything else inside you." His hand tightened possessively on my hip. "The vibrations will be strong enough that you'll feel it everywhere. Your clit, your pussy, your ass. I don't need to fill you with a fake cock to make you scream in pleasure."

"That... That sounds... intense," I said, fumbling over my words. It certainly didn't sound painful. Quite the opposite. But it also sounded like I'd come unraveled if the pleasure was as intense as he claimed. I'd confessed my deepest secrets to him in exchange for orgasms already. What would I do when subjected to this?

Suck his cock.

That was what he wanted from me.

I glanced at the bulge of his erection, which stood out clearly against his slacks. The knowledge that he wanted me made something warm unfurl in my chest; a pure, feminine satisfaction.

The rational part of my mind noted his size, and I remembered how big he'd felt in my hand when I'd touched him in the shower for the first time.

"I won't be able to fit... It won't fit," I mumbled, my cheeks flaming. I couldn't say your cock won't fit in my mouth aloud. It was far too shameful.

"We'll go slow," he promised. "You can take me. You will learn."

He was talking about it like my surrender was already a foregone conclusion.

"And if I say no?" I asked quietly.

"Are you saying no?"

"I... I'm nervous. I mean, you're so big. And I've never... I don't know..." I was babbling, my sentences unfinished and incoherent.

He leaned in and captured my lips with his, taking my mouth slow and deep, until my mind quieted. The anxiety that had started churning in my stomach subsided, giving way to warmth that spread down between my legs.

"You don't have to talk anymore," he murmured, pressing a sweet kiss against my cheek. "It's okay to be nervous. I'll be right here to tell you what to do."

I nodded, almost grateful that he'd forestalled the words that had started spilling out of me. I didn't like when my mouth ran away with me out of nervousness. It felt... comforting, knowing I didn't have to say anything else. That I wasn't allowed to say anything else. His command for my silence freed me from my nervous tic, and it was kind of nice. Liberating.

His grip shifted to my upper arms, and he applied pressure to guide me down. "On your knees."

I sank down far more gracefully than I ever could have managed on my own. When he moved my body, I didn't have to worry about being awkward or ungainly.

"So beautiful," he praised when I fully lowered myself onto the Sybian, my wet pussy coming to rest against the hard, cool surface.

He leaned down and moved my left ankle closer to the device. Supple leather closed around it, and he buckled the cuff closed to secure me in place.

Why? The word teased at the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it back. I wasn't supposed to talk. It was so much easier than questioning him, anyway.

He cuffed my right ankle on the other side. Testing my range of movement, I tried to push up on my knees, but I couldn't rise up off the Sybian with my legs bound beneath me.

He wasn't done restraining me. He grasped my wrists and directed them above my head. Another set of cuffs dangled from a chain that hung from the ceiling. I didn't resist as he buckled them around my wrists. There was no point. I was already bound to the Sybian, and fighting would have only earned me a punishment.

I didn't want another one of those, especially not with the reminder of the spanking bench looming in front of me.

He's not going to hurt me, I told myself. He's not going to—

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