“Wait for it.”
She swears under her breath, and I grin as I walk to the kitchen to grab what I need. Minutes later, I return with a bowl in hand.
Damn, she really is a vision—restrained and blindfolded. Spread open like a feast. And all mine for the taking.
“Dice?”
“Right here, Web.”
I press an ice cube to her collarbone.
She gasps, muscles jumping at the shock of cold.
“Take a little more.” I slide the cube slowly between her breasts, then over them, circling each tight nipple. Goose bumps rush across her skin. I follow the liquid trail with my mouth, warmth chasing the chill.
She moans, jerking in the cuffs, trying to grab me… but she can’t. “Fuck,” she groans, raw and frustrated.
“Stop fighting it, Lot. Just give in.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not at my mercy.”
“You’re wrong.” I press my cock between her thighs, right against her juicy heat.
“Feel that? I’m dying here.”
“Then just do me.”
“I will. But not yet.” With Herculean effort, I pull back and reach for the syrup. I drizzle it across her breasts and down the line of her torso, watching it drip to her soft rippling belly and pool in her navel.
“What is that?” She squirms.
I drag a strawberry through the thick amber on her body and bring it to her lips. “Taste.”
Tentative at first, she licks it. “Maple syrup and strawberries.” Then she takes a bite. “Mmm.”
I slide my tongue across her mouth and along her chin, catching the sweet stickiness. “Tastes better on you.” I work my way down, licking her breasts and stomach clean.
“You’re the fucking devil.”
I grin, hanging on by a thread, as I take another cold strawberry and press it to her inner thigh. She sucks in a sharp breath. I brush the fruit over her pussy, circling it slowly around her entrance. Not dipping inside. Not touching her clit. Just teasing. Torturing.
“Dammit, Dice,” she grits out, yanking against the restraints that hold her tight. Still fighting. Still trying to top from the bottom. “Make me come.”
“Beg for it.”
“I hate you.”
“That’s not what this sweet pussy’s saying. She’s purring for me, wildcat.”
“I can’t take it anymore.”
“Then use your safe word and I’ll stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop. I want you to stop fucking around.”
“All you have to do is beg and I’ll give it to you.” I roll the strawberry over her clit—just a flick, then gone.
Her pussy clenches around nothing, desperate. Her breaths come in quick bursts. Her voice trembles. “Please!” she finally cries.
