It was too late. She gave a tug, unable to move more than an inch against the restraints, then looked up to see the deep purple-blue vine holding her firm to the headboard. One on each arm, and she would bet money—money she wasn’t sure she had—that the same soft yet firm vines were at her feet.
Kizros stood, his dark eyes getting their fill. “Do you need to say it?”
Aofe blinked, finally understanding his stare. She quickly shook her head.
“Good.” He reached down and tugged on one of the vines at her feet. When it didn’t budge, he slid his fingers up the inside of her tight calf, pausing just at the bend of her knee before smirking. “Have to make sure you behave until I come back.”
Her daze snapped to clarity. “Wait, come back?”
But he had already turned, walking out the door, and Aofe was left half naked, tied to the bed, and so utterly desperate.
In most cases, leaving her to herthoughts was a bad choice, but now there was a delicious and torturous ache between her legs replacing all those awful voices in her head.
Was he leaving her here all night, unable to touch herself? Would she be alone, squirming and desperate, until she was begging and pleading for relief?
Would he come back and just… stare?
Aofe tried to move her hips, feeling the cool air against her wet and exposed center. Tried to find friction as thoughts of Kizros dragging out her pleasure flooded her mind.
She squeezed her eyes shut, breathing through the anticipation as her fingers curled over the vine holding her. The leaves were soft against her skin, strong and yet pliant so as not to actually hurt her, and she was reminded of Kizros’s psychic plants. Briefly, she wondered if they would disappear if she considered using her safe word, and then did her best to not think harder in fear that theywouldretreat.
No, she wanted this. All of it, if Kizros would return. They had spent several evenings talking about their wants and desires and kinks, including this one, which only made the thrill that much more suspenseful.
By the time Kizros did come back, Aofe was seriously reconsidering her decisions. Particularly when he sauntered in like he didn’t care that she was panting and starting to sweat with anticipation. That smirk was still there as he leaned against the doorway, and she whimpered at the sight of him acting so casual at her discomfort.
“Look at you.”
He spun a jar in his hands, walking to the end of the bed. His eyes focused on her core, tongue running over his lower lip.
“So beautiful, spread out and waiting for me,” Kizros murmured, other hand working the lid open, and relief ran through her. “Are you desperate yet?”
She’d never nodded faster. Lubrication meant he was going to be using that beautiful knot of his, and the torture was almost over.
Except he was still clothed when he tossed the lid aside and crawled onto the bed by her feet. He dug three fingers into the jar and scooped out the viscous substance, and she watched as he spread the cloudy-looking gel over his hands. Her body oscillated between too hot and chilled as she waited for whatever he was planning on doing to her.
What she didn’t expect was for his hand to completely avoid his cock and her center in favor of?—
“Your hip is already bruised,” he muttered, whole body leaning forward as his palm spread over her upper thigh.
Aofe hissed at the first cool contact of gel on her skin, but it quickly warmed as his fingers massaged into the muscle. Despite the bruise she hadn’t realized was already visible, it wasn’t painful with the combination of his movements and the warmth of his skin. In fact, it would have felt wonderful if she hadn’t been so pent up expecting something else.
“Kizros, what are you doing?” she grunted, then moaned as he rubbed over a sore spot.
He readjusted on the bed, keeping hiswarmth pressed into her exposed skin as he kneaded her joint. “Taking care of you. This will help with the bruising and soreness.”
Aofe sucked in a gasp as his breath fanned over her center. She nearly swore as she realized this was a continuing part of his game. Tie her up, take care of her, while also dragging out her need like he knew exactly how to ruin her.
“Kizros,” she whined, feeling more wetness pool between her legs when his nose brushed the inside of her thigh. So close, and yet nowhere near where she needed him.
“Shh, good girls are rewarded for their patience.” He gently applied some of the gel further down her thigh, right along the muscle that had spasmed earlier. “Do you want to be good for me, sunshine?”
Another whimper escaped her throat before she managed a raspy, “Yes.”
She could feel his smile against her skin, just before he licked a spot still so far from what she wanted. “Your cunt smells so good.”
Her mind emptied, lost somewhere between the praise, the feel of him massaging her sore leg, and the tease of getting to experience the sweet, gentle demon she adored delighting in edging and torturing her by taking control.
It was everything she needed, and so she sank into the dichotomy—the pleasure of his touch and attention and the ache of him finding ways to drive her anticipation higher.
