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"Shh…" I drag my nose up her jaw to nuzzle her cheek. "Give into it, Flower. Just let me do this for you, okay?"
She draws in a breath, then the muscles of her shoulders relax.
"Good girl," I praise her again, and she bites down on her lower lip. Oh, Flower likes it when I praise her, all right. If I were to slide my fingers between her thighs, bet I’d find her even more wet. But first, I need to do the one thing that I have had in mind ever since the first time I saw her gorgeous breasts.
29
Aurora
He walks around me. I know because the heat of his body flows over me as he heads in the direction of… It has to be the side table. What’s on the side table? The sewing kit and the pile of yarn. I sense him pause, then reach down. Is he picking up something? What could he possibly want from there? He already used the ribbons from the sewing kit. Surely, he’s not going to pick up more of the ribbons... I... Is he? What else is there? The pile of yarn? Is he going to use the yarn? But for what?
He seems to linger there for a few seconds as if making up his mind. Then his footsteps approach. The hair on my forearms rises. He stops in front of me… Again, I know, because a cloud of heat leaps off of his body and slams into my chest. And to think he’s just come in from the cold and is not even wearing a shirt. The man’s a bloody furnace. The scent of him—testosterone and musk and dark coffee edged with brandy—envelops me. My toes curl.
OMG, how can he smell so hot and sexy and yummy like a Christmas pudding laced with dark chocolate? My mouth waters. That’s when he leans forward. His breath sears my lips. I tremble as he grips my wrists which are still shackled behind my back and pushes them up.
"Hold them there," he murmurs, before he slides something around my back and front. He seems to wrap it around me again, then knots it in the front. He repeats the movements once more, and a third time. He’s tying something under my breasts... Something that is going to push them up? Bring them even more attention? I quirk my eyebrows, and he must notice it, for he pauses.
He lowers his head and brushes his lips across my forehead. "Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you; I promise."
And what if I like it too much when you do so? What if… I enjoy all the twisted, depraved things that you are going to do to me and never want you to let me go; what then?
He steps back, his heat recedes a little, then he picks up where he left off. He continues to loop the wool… It has to be wool, based on the slight roughness that chafes my skin every time he coils another circle under my breast. He winds his way down my waist and across my belly until he reaches my hipbones. He pauses. I sense him lower himself to his knees in front of me, for his breath shimmers across my pussy.
Jesus Christ! My belly trembles, my chest rises and falls, my knees buckle from under me, and I’d fall, except he grips my hips to hold me in place.
"Easy, Flower," he soothes me, "easy." He rubs circles with those big fingers across my skin. My heartbeat races as I draw in a breath, another. When he seems sure that I have calmed down somewhat, he presses a kiss to my belly button. He darts his tongue inside the dip in my belly, and a moan bleeds out of me. I strain against the ties that he’s bound around my wrists, wanting, needing to grip his hair and tug on the thick strands to punish him for what he’s doing to me. I open my mouth, wanting to say his name, but all that comes out is a whine.
"I know, baby." He licks my skin. "I want it too, but we need to hold on a little while longer."
For what? I pout, then gasp when he drags his wide tongue up my slit. Ohmigod! I throw my head back as he curls his tongue around my clit. He sucks on it, and I dig my nails into my palm. Jesus H Christ, this man is going to kill me if he keeps that up.
He raises his head, and I open my mouth to tell him off, when he taps the inside of my thigh. "Part your legs for me, Flower."
I do as he says. Honestly, I don’t think I could deny him if I tried, which I admit, I am not. All of my attention drops to the throbbing pulse between my legs.
I sense him rise up on his knees. His knuckles scrape my stomach—guess he must be looping the wool into another knot there?—before he drags it down over my pussy. I gasp as he loops the string—or is it strings?—over my labia, between my pussy lips, pulling me apart, stretching me, pulling it between my legs and up the cleavage between my arse cheeks. He winds it up my spine and knots it under the yarn he’s wrapped about the underside of my breasts. He tugs on it, and the movement chafes the wool across my pussy and the valley between my arse cheeks.
Sensations shoot out from the contact and coil in my lower belly. Moisture coats my channel, and I’m sure if I touched my inner thigh, I’d find my cum clinging to my skin. He swipes his fingers down the wool that runs down my spine, back between my arse cheeks, and up to my clit. He presses down, and the combination of the tension of the yarn pulling my pussy lips apart combined with the pressure on my clit makes my entire body jolt. Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god.
I bite down on my lower lip to stop myself from screaming with the tension that fills me, that pulls at my lower belly and stretches my nerves until I’m sure I’m going to explode.
He rises to his feet, then presses a gentle, almost chaste kiss to my lips. I sense him move away and follow him with my senses as he heads back to the side table. He returns to stand behind me. I hear a snipping sound, then he steps back.
Goose bumps dot my skin, and it’s not because I’m cold. I can sense him looking me up and down before he walks back to the side table. I hear a soft thunk… Did he replace the scissors, perhaps? He returns to stand in front of me, but not close, because his heat isn’t as searing as before. The silence stretches a beat, another.
A bead of sweat trails down my neck and between my breasts. I sense him move. The next instant, the wet slap of his tongue against my skin as he laps it up makes me jolt. He straightens and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "Would you like to see yourself, Flower?"
He brushes his lips across mine once, twice, but when I open my mouth to deepen the kiss, he steps back.
"Not yet." He chuckles as he turns me in the direction of the bedroom. He wraps his arm about my shoulder, then guides me forward. One, two… I count twenty steps as I walk forward, for I have lost all sense of direction, and this is the only way I can orient myself. He pauses, then steps behind me and places his hands on my shoulder.
"You look incredible. Your tits… They are the most gorgeous I have ever seen, and if you saw how your cunt is wet, swollen, and begging to be eaten by me…" He draws in a breath. "Speaking of, are you hungry?"
I nod.
"I think we should eat before I show you my masterpiece, don’t you?"
No, you jerk. I want to see what you have done to me. I want to glimpse how I look after having been tied up by you. I want to—
