He positions himself between my legs, his cock hard and ready.
Slides inside me in one smooth thrust that makes us both groan.
"Fuck," he breathes. "You feel amazing. So tight. So wet. So perfect."
He starts moving.
Slow at first, then faster.
Building a rhythm that has me pulling against the restraints again, desperate for something to hold onto, some way to ground myself against the overwhelming sensation.
"Look at me," he commands. "Eyes on me. I want to see you while I fuck you. I want to see you surrender to this."
I meet his gaze. Those ice-blue eyes that used to inspire fear now just inspire love. Trust. Safety.
"I love you," I gasp as he thrusts deeper. "I love you so much."
"I love you too. Love you like this—tied up and helpless and giving yourself to me freely. Love knowing you're choosing this. Choosing me. Choosing us."
He shifts angle slightly, hitting that spot deep inside that makes stars explode behind my eyes.
"Oh God—Vaughn—I'm going to?—"
"Ask," he demands, his rhythm never faltering.
"Please can I come? Please, I'm so close, please let me come?—"
"Tell me who you belong to."
"You. I belong to you. I'm yours, Vaughn. Completely yours."
"Yes, you are. Come for me. Come on my cock. Show me how good this feels. Show me you chose right when you chose to submit to me."
I come with a scream, clenching around him, pulling against the silk restraints, my whole body shaking with the force of it.
He follows immediately after, burying himself deep and spilling inside me with my name on his lips.
We stay like that for a long moment, both trembling, both overwhelmed by the intensity of what just happened.
Then he's reaching up, untying my wrists with gentle hands.
Bringing my arms down carefully, massaging the circulation back into them even though the restraints weren't tight enough to cut it off.
"Shh," he soothes as I start crying. "You're okay. You're safe. I've got you."
He pulls me into his arms, holding me while I shake and cry and process everything that just happened.
"Talk to me," he says softly. "Tell me what you're feeling. Was it too much? Did I push too hard?"
"No," I manage through the tears. "It was perfect. It was exactly what I needed. I'm just—I'm overwhelmed. By how different it felt. How good it felt to choose it instead of having it forced on me."
"It felt different for me too. Better. So much better. Because I knew you wanted it. Knew you were choosing to give yourself to me instead of having no choice."
"I did want it. I do want it. Want to do this again. Want to explore this side of us when it's healthy instead of coercive."
"We will. We'll explore it together. Build our own version of D/s that works for us."
We lie tangled together as my breathing slows, as the tears stop, as the overwhelming emotion settles into something calmer.
