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“Yellow,” her voice is barely above a whisper, “means slow down. Red,” she moans when I press my lips to the inside of her other ankle, “means stop. It stops everything.”
“Good girl,” I say as I finally make eye contact with her. “Are you nervous?”
“No,” she says quickly, “should I be?”
“Yes.” I move up to grab her wrist, lifting it to kiss the scars left behind from the zip ties. “If you knew what I’m planning on doing to you, you’d be a little nervous. Is this going to trigger bad memories for you?” I hold up the leather wrist cuff.
“No, I don’t think so,” she shakes her head.
“Tell me if it does, okay?” I lean down and kiss her, pushing her hands away when they reach up for my hair. “I’m in charge tonight, Tsarina. You only touch me when I say you can.”
I chuckle darkly at the scowl she gives me. I’m going to take perverse satisfaction in denying her tonight, teaching her what it means to hear no again and again until you want to rip your skin off and give into your most base instincts.
Once I have her arms and legs secured, I grab one of the vibrators from my collection. “How many consecutive orgasms have you ever had?” I ask as I pull my shirt over my head.
“Two.”
“Well,” I settle beside her and pinch one of her nipples, “two is just a warm up for me.”
I turn the vibrator on and lightly run it over the swell of her breasts, down her flat stomach and along her hip bones. Her back arches slightly when I drag it teasingly up and down her slit. She tries to shift for more contact, but I pull back with a tsk.
I drag my finger through her folds, obsessed with how wet she already is. I lightly circle her clit a few times before I go back with the vibrator, this time with more pressure. Her toes curl as I tease her to the edge of an orgasm.
“Tell me your favorite dancers,” I command pulling the toy away. “If you stop listing them, I’ll stop fucking you with this, wait until you come down, and do it all over again, understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, Sir. You’re to call me Sir tonight.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl,” I slide the vibrator just inside her, angling for her g-spot.
“Diana Vishneva, Svetlana Zakharova, Ekaterina Borchenko.” She squirms when I change the intensity on the vibe. “Fuck.”
“Fuck?” I chuckle and pull the toy out. “That’s an interesting name for a dancer.”
“Griff,” she whines, “more.”
“I’m sorry, who?” I lightly slap her pussy.
“Sir,” she gasps, “please don’t stop.”
“Better,” I start again when she starts listing off more dancers. At least I think they’re dancers, they could be muppets for all I know.
“Misty Copeland, Maya Taylor…” she impressively continues her list straight through the first orgasm. “That’s it,” she says as her tremors ease.
“That’s it for the first orgasm,” I say moving down between her thighs. Her arousal is all over her pussy lips, thighs, and trickling down her ass cheek.
I lean down and begin licking every deliciously exposed inch of her. My girl loves having her pussy licked, and I know exactly how to bring to another orgasm. I use my thumbs to spread her folds open and lick her with the flat of my tongue until her hips are bucking, and she’s trying to ride my face. Then I pull her clit between my lips and gently suck it into my mouth. She comes apart, her juices coating my chin.
My dick is absolutely aching for her, but I have too much planned to jump right to fucking now.
