"You shattered my defenses." Another pause in his ministrations. Then he's back, adding pressure. "Plundered what I guarded most."
His tongue swirls in patterns that make me see stars even through the blindfold. I'm gasping now, pulling against the ropes.
"Stole my heart."
Before I can spiral into panic about what that means, he adds two fingers to his tongue work. I cry out.
"That requires punishment," he says against my skin.
"Oh yeah?" I manage between breaths, playing along and trying to sound confident when I'm anything but. "And how am I to be punished?"
He's breathing hard, too. "First, we need to search youthoroughly." His fingers enter me, slow, deliberate, curling to find that spot. "No resisting. Just take it."
They go slightly deeper, exploring, finding spots I didn't know existed.
"You think you can fight this?"
He twists his fingers slightly.Just enough. "You can't."
"Fuck—"
He doesn't stop, keeping the pressure, waiting, and testing.
Finally, I give up. "Fuck yes, do it. You have whatever you want."
And he goes even deeper, making me question reality. His mouth joins in again, tongue and fingers working together in a coordinated attack on my sanity.
I'm pull against the ropes, trying to get closer, trying to escape, not sure which I want more. "Please?—"
"Please, what?" His voice is a purr. "Please stop? Or please more?"
"More. God, more."
"Confession is good for the soul." His fingers slow down, teasing now. Torturing. "Tell me what you've done. In my world, we don't stop until we get every detail—no mercy."
I know what he wants. Know I should be embarrassed. But the darkness makes it easier somehow. Makes the words flow.
"I... I've thought about you. Drawn you. Touched myself thinking of you."
"When?" His fingers reward me slightly, moving faster.
"Every night. For months."
"Before we met?"
"Yes." The admission should embarrass me. It doesn't. "Before I even knew your name."
"Dirty girl." His fingers quicken their pace, building that delicious pressure again. "What else?"
"I drew us together. Drew your hands on me. Your mouth. Drew things I'd never done but wanted to try."
"What things?"
"This. Being tied up. Helpless. At your mercy."
"And how does the reality compare to the fantasy?"
"Better." The word comes out as a gasp. "So much better."
