“Stay there. And don’t remove your blindfold.” Once she’d given him her assurance she wouldn’t peek, he ducked into the walk-in closet and opened the panel concealing the safe room he’d had privately constructed and outfitted for his personal needs. He’d been thinking about his plans all day, so it didn’t take longer than a minute or two to select the restraints he’d require, along with a couple other toys.
When he returned, Rosie was sitting in the chair by the window. Her legs were sprawled open, allowing him an unimpeded view of her stroking one finger beneath the thin matching thong. The sight of her pleasuring herself nearly had his tongue hanging on the floor and his dick ready to shoot a load prematurely.
Should he tie her face up on the bed? Or should he have her standing, her hands tied to the upper ring of the bedpost so he’d have access to more of her body? And oh, man, did he want as much access to her body as he could get.
Lying down-because he was definitely going to fuck her and that way he wouldn’t have to move the restraints later. Even if he wanted to put a wedge pillow under that tiny ass of hers, the restraints would move up the iron posts with little problem. Yeah, that still left him a whole range of possibilities. He dumped his equipment on the night table, then flipped off the duvet and lifted her to her feet.
“Lie down on the bed, Rosie. Face up.”
“Yes, Master,” she said in a breathy Marilyn Monroe impression. He palmed the hard-on that throbbed at the title. If she only knew how he’d fantasized about her calling him that.
Once she was in place, he ran his hands down her calves, gently massaging her tiny feet. Hmm, ticklish. Interesting. Normally she was only ticklish after they’d made love. He fastened the restraints around her ankles and spread open her legs so he could attach the cuffs around the iron end posts. He stepped back and examined his handiwork, admiring how her lips glistened on either side of the thin black string of her thong. “You’re already thinkin’ about what I might do to you, aren’t you?”
He sure was.
“I’m guessing,” Rosie said with a beatific smile, “that it’s going to end up with you riding me, pounding Big Sammy into my pussy and making me see stars the way you did last night. And if I’m really good, you’ll let me ride you, the way I did yesterday morning. Which, by the way, was extremely enjoyable.”
He smiled at her new nickname for his dick. Definitely better than Sam Junior. And she’d guessed correctly; he was intending to end the night that way, but not before he’d driven her to her own fulfillment once or thrice.
Should he have her arms stay straight over her head or spread out in an X? Straight for now, he decided. “Stretch your hands above your head, Princesa.”
Looping the other ends of the restraints through the iron bars of the headboard, he buckled the leather straps around her wrists. Although they’d hold her for now, the bands were loose. He’d have to buy some slightly smaller. Or add extra padding inside.
Finished, he sat on the bed and waited. Watched. Appreciated.
Her hair spread in wild abandon over his pillows. It would leave her wonderful scent embedded in them so he’d be reminded of her when he slept. Though her eyes were covered by the silk scarf, her mouth formed a natural bow, her bottom lip protruding slightly more than her upper lip. He bent over and brushed a light kiss on them. She arched up, attempting to capture him, but he pulled away without saying a word.
With her arms over her head, her back was slightly arched and her breasts lifted in invitation. Should he take her bra off now or wait for later?
Decisions, decisions.
Later, he decided. There was a lot to be said for delayed gratification.
“Well?” she said after he’d sat there for a few minutes more. “Aren’t you going to do something?”
Vixen.
He stood and prowled around the bed, planning each move he’d make.
“Sam?”
Impatient vixen.
Picking up the ostrich feather, he dragged it up one bare foot. As he’d expected, she squirmed, trying to move her foot away. So he treated the other foot to the same attention.
“Sam! Stop dragging things out and fuck me, damn it!”
Very impatient vixen.
“You have been told not to speak unless I give you permission.” He spoke sharply, as if he were commanding one of Hauberk’s new recruits who had just screwed up.
She stuck her tongue out at him. He had to swallow a snicker, nearly choking himself in the process. God, she had such fire.
For the next twenty minutes he teased and tickled every exposed inch of skin with the feather. If any other sub had cursed him and pleaded with him and tried to top from the bottom the way she did, he’d have ball gagged them long before. But he couldn’t do it. There was something so refreshing about her. So intriguing. So challenging.
He switched the feather for a flogger, and let the leather tails trail over her shoulders, then down her breasts. He flicked open the front clasp on her bra, then enjoyed watching her nipples pebble at the cool air, he swirled the leather straps over her until she was panting. To her credit, and his disappointment, she didn’t twitch or make a sound.
Goose bumps raised down her arms when he slid the thin tails along her stomach. Her hips arched when he dragged them across her mons and let them dangle over her labia. The artery on the side of her neck betrayed her rapid heartbeat when he touched the tip of the braided handle between her thighs and rubbed against her thong. She gasped when he slipped it inside her, rubbing the balled end so it would caress her most sensitive spot.
“Oh, and Rosie? You can’t come unless I give you permission.”
“Bas-” Her teeth clenched together a she swallowed the insult.
Her fingers wrapped around the straps holding her in place, her hips arched up as she tried to move with the whip handle, press it deeper. He drove her until she was about to slide over the edge. Just before she could orgasm, he removed the faux dildo.
“Damn it!” she snarled. “Let me come.”
“Nope. And you talk again without permission and I’ll leave you tied up without touching for the rest of the night.”
He stepped away, letting her consider his threat as he stripped off his clothes. Taking his time, he poured some oil with a light coconut fragrance into one palm then coated both hands with it. Starting at her toes and slowly sliding up her legs, he gently massaged. If he’d done this first, she would have been completely relaxed, but now she was a quivering mass, her breath short desperate gasps.
He slid one finger along her labia, causing her hips to jerk off the bed. Damn, she was so ready. With a quick motion, he snapped the string on one side of her thong and stripped it from her.
“Lift your hips up, Princesa.”
When she did, he slid a wedge-shaped pillow beneath her and knelt between her thighs. The moment he touched his tongue to her, she exploded, cream running down her sweet slit and pooling on the pillow.
He shook his head in mock dismay. “Oh, baby. You’re not allowed to come unless I give you permission.”
“Fuck. That,” she panted. “Why on earth would I ever need to stop an orgasm? Most guys are happy if a woman has one at all.”
“I’m not most guys.”
Before she realized what he was about to do, he was seated hilt deep inside her. He groaned as the last of her orgasm caressed his rigid cock.
Damn it, when he had lost control? He’d planned to make her come at least three times before he allowed himself inside her. And yet here he was, buried balls deep in the little spitfire.
Right. So they’d both have to exercise some control. Which he’d never do in this position from the way his hips were working in concert with his now pulsing cock. Damn it!
Using every ounce of determination, he pulled from her.
“Saa-a-am!” Yup, three syllables. “Fuck me, goddamn it!”
In less than twenty seconds, he’d released her from her restraints. Before a minute had passed, he’d picked
