“Are you going to be a good girl?” I ask.
Ellie bites her lip and says nothing. I grab her leg and turn it to the side and smack her on the ass–hard.
“Yes,” she gasps.
“Yes, what?” I gruffly say.
“Yes, sir, I’m going to be a good girl.”
“That’s right.”
I grab her leg again, flipping it back over, spreading her knees apart. Then, I use the tip of my finger to tease her as softly as possible, just a flutter on the outside of her panties. Her hips arch upward for more, but I pull back, stopping altogether. Ellie lets out a frustratedahh.
“Who do you belong to?” I ask.
“You.”
“Say my name,” I demand, my voice nearly a shout.
“Damien,” she purrs. “I belong to you, Damien.”
“Yes, you do. Now beg.”
“Please…” she whimpers.
“Please,what?”
“Please make me come.”
I wait a moment, letting her lay blindly in aching anticipation before I rip her panties from her hard enough to make her gasp. Itease her with the tip of my tongue. I lap up and down her pussy from one end to the other, avoiding contact with her clit each time. Ellie moans softly at the tease, and every time I get close, her hands strain against the leather bondage.
I sit up and run my middle finger down the length of her before circling her opening and thrusting it inside. Immediately, I pump, making her cry out as she gushes, but she hasn’t come yet. I quickly learned with this girl that just because she is wet, just because she is dripping, doesn’t mean she came.
She pulls hard at the cuffs, clanging against the hooks on the frame; her knuckles turn white. I finger fuck her until her body tenses and shakes, but it’s only a small orgasm. A rolling wave, not a crashing tide. I’ll save that for later. With my finger still inside her, I use my thumb to rub her clit, and she bucks against me again.
“Fuck,” she lets out.
“No, no,” I say sternly. “My good girl will not have a dirty mouth.”
“Yes,” she says instead, and because she cannot see me, I let a smirk crawl across my lips.
She waits for my next move. Is it thrusting? Is it flicking? For a second, but only a second, I do both at the same time, and she moans. Then I stop.
“Damien…” she whines.
I wait. My free hand reaches up and pinches her nipple, startling her. I rub it between my fingers, and she arches her back. Then I stop and go back to thrusting, driving my finger harder and harder into her. Before she can have a second orgasm, I stop, switching to tickling her clit. For what must feel like hours, I tease her this way, keeping her guessing.
“Damien…” she begs, her voice hoarse from moaning.
“You want it?”
“Yes, please.”
“Tell me what you want, Mariposa…” I grit out in her face.
Her lips are close enough to mine that I can taste her breath: sweet, tangy, hot.
“I want you to fuck me, Damien.”
