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He groans, a low, throaty sound, and the next second we're lost to the passion again. Hands roam, touching, exploring, claiming. Every layer of clothing we shed only serves to intensify the need, the hunger between us.
His form is a marvel to behold—broad shoulders, powerful arms inked with tattoos, each one telling a silent story of the life he's led, the challenges he's faced. His chest is a vast expanse ofchiseled muscle, leading to a core that’s just as hard and defined. How had I missed this? I had overlooked the raw, undeniable appeal of this man, hidden beneath the facade of the protective brother figure.
His hands are equally assertive, pulling me close, leaving no space between us. Every inch of him is solid, demanding, insistent. As we continue our heated path to the bedroom, I find myself eager, almost desperate, to discover every hidden facet of this man who has suddenly turned my world upside down.
By the time we hit the edge of the bed, it's clear neither of us is in control anymore. We're both at the mercy of this tidal wave of passion, willing to be swept away wherever it may lead. All reservations, all inhibitions, have evaporated, replaced by a primal need to be close, to explore, to claim and be claimed.
The smoldering look in his eyes intensifies. "Ana," he rasps, voice roughened by arousal, "there's something specific I like in the bedroom." He pauses, as if gauging my reaction. "Only if you're up for it, of course."
Curiosity flares within me, blending with the smoldering arousal. I'm intrigued by this sudden revelation, eager to delve deeper into this uncharted territory of desire. "Tell me," I whisper, eyes locked onto his, challenging, urging him on.
He reaches down to a discreet black box tucked beneath his bed. As he carefully opens it, I realize the sight before me is unexpected—yet thrilling. Bondage gear containing soft ropes, a blindfold, and a few other things I don't quite recognize.
Samuil is trying to gauge my reaction. "Nothing too wild,” he says. Just enough to heighten the senses. It's all about trust."
My eyes remain fixed on the items, the gleaming silver and contrasting black materials. I've never tried anything like this before, and yet the very sight of these toys ignites something within me, a fire of curiosity and desire. I'm aware of a throbbingheat, a pulsing anticipation that makes me feel more alive than ever.
"I'd like to tie you up," he continues, voice gravelly, dripping with intent. "Let you experience the pleasure of completely giving in, letting go." His gaze probes mine, dark and intense. "Only if you want to, of course."
Every nerve in my body screams yes. The thought of being at his mercy, of surrendering control to this man who's proven himself over and over again, is overwhelming. I bite my lip, a thrill of excitement zinging through me, before nodding. "Yes. I want it."
Samuil's smile is reassuring and seductive. He moves deliberately, selecting a soft rope. His fingers graze my skin, causing shivers as he binds my wrists, securing them to the bedposts with meticulous knots. The act is slow, intimate. With every loop and pull, I feel more exposed, more vulnerable, the sensation intensified by the knowledge of the power he holds.
By the time he finishes, the combination of excitement, anticipation, and vulnerability has my body humming, yearning for whatever comes next. The slight pull of the restraints, the limited movement, only serves to enhance the feeling, drawing me deeper into the experience. The mere act of being tied up has me restless, ready and eager for the dance of dominance and submission we're about to embark on.
The room is alive with the electric hum of desire, a raw energy thrumming between us. After ensuring protection, he shifts, aligning himself with me. The moment he enters me, it’s as if every inch of him seems tailor-made to fit me, a perfect puzzle piece, a synergy that leaves my head spinning.
The sensation of the ropes around my wrists adds a layer of complexity, a blend of restraint and freedom. Initially, the bondage feels foreign, an uncharted territory. But with each of his powerful thrusts, the light pull against my wrists becomesa tantalizing anchor, grounding me in the experience. It transforms what could've been merely physical into something intensely emotional, an exercise in trust.
"Come for me, Ana. Now," he growls, voice deep, drenched in authority. The command in his tone is unmistakable. It's as if his words have unlocked something within me. With a loud cry, I shatter, pleasure consuming every inch of me.
His own climax follows, his body tensing as waves of pleasure overtake him. There's a stillness, a quiet intensity as we both come down, trying to regain our bearings. The sensation of him still inside me, and the ropes binding me, add a layer of intimacy to the moment.
Post-climax clarity descends on me, the world coming back into sharp focus. He gently unfastens the knots, releasing my wrists. The sensation of freedom, tinged with the lingering phantom feeling of the restraints, is oddly exhilarating. My body feels like it's been on a roller coaster ride, full of thrilling peaks and nerve-racking drops.
Instinctively, I gravitate toward him, like a moth to a flame. All I desire in this moment is to feel his solid frame against me. His arm, muscular and reassuring, curls around me, pulling me into the warm cocoon of his body. His heartbeat is a steady rhythm against my ear, lulling me into a sense of tranquility.
Every brush of his fingers, every gentle press of his lips against my temple, is a balm to my slightly raw nerves. The comparison between the Samuil in bed—commanding, demanding—and the tender, protective figure holding me now, is striking. He seems to understand, without words, the exact manner of comfort I need after venturing into the unfamiliar terrains of our desires.
His voice, a soothing baritone, rumbles in my ear, "You okay?"
I nod, snuggling closer. "More than okay. Just processing."
His chuckle vibrates through me. "Take all the time you need. I'm here."
My mind whirls, replaying every touch, every sensation, and the unbridled passion. It's both overwhelming and exhilarating. A small laugh bubbles up from my chest. "What the hell did we just do, Samuil?"
He chuckles, his breath warm against my hair. "Started something unexpected, yet not unwelcome."
That sentiment perfectly captures the storm of emotions brewing within me. This is surprising, and the path forward is uncertain. Yet, there's a thrill in the unpredictability.
In the warmth of his embrace, surrounded by the comfort of his presence, sleep edges in, slowly drawing me into its grasp. The last thing I register, as my eyelids grow heavy, is his lips pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.
Chapter 9
Samuil
The dim light filtering in from the outside catches her form, drawing me from the depths of sleep. It's a jarring realization to wake up with Anastasia nestled beside me. A tumultuous mix of regret and satisfaction roils within. We've shattered a boundary, danced over a line neither of us had probably ever envisioned crossing.
