The feeling of the cool fabric against my skin is erotic, sinful.
He's tying me up.
I'm letting him.
Wanting him to.
He takes my silk-bound wrist and pulls it gently down, guiding it down the bed until it's flush with my ankle.
He's not just tying me down. He's making sure I can't move an inch without his permission.
I have a brief, sudden vision of myself, helpless beneath him, completely at his mercy.
The thought makes my pussy clench.
I can't hide the way my hips move, pressing down, seeking friction.
He notices.
"Eager, are we?" His voice is a low rumble.
He finishes tying my wrist to my ankle, and I pull, testing the strength of the knots.
They hold.
"Stay still," he commands.
My heart is pounding.
I watch him, trying to stay calm, trying not to lose control as he repeats the action with my other wrist, tying it securely to my ankle.
When he's finished, I'm bound. Face down, ass up for his pleasure.
Pussy exposed to him.
Helpless.
Completely at his mercy.
He trails a finger down the arch of my foot, up the length of my leg, and over the swell of my ass.
The touch sends shivers racing through me.
I'm helpless, his prisoner, completely at his mercy.
He tests the strength of the bindings.
"Is this okay?" he asks.
It's the last thing I expect.
"Yes," I breathe, and I can hear the desire in my voice. It should be embarrassing how much I want this.
But I can't find it in me.
Luca's fingers trail over my skin again, his touch feather-light.
My breath is coming fast, ragged.
