I’ve never seen anything quite like it, but I know in an instant what it is. Maybe not a pervertable, but definitely perverse. I feel a sudden inexplicable flare in the pit of my gut.
‘Designed as intended,’ he drawls, balancing the bar across his palm. ‘Have I your attention now?’ I shake my head, not willing to give him the satisfaction when he laughs softly. ‘Sweetheart, you can’t deny it. It’s written in the colour of your face.’
Bending forward, he draws my underwear down my legs, and removing my shoes, swiftly fastens a cuff to my held ankle, lowering it to the table with care. Repeating his actions, he widens the space between my legs.
Air is the first thing I register, cool air where before there was none. A tremble of flesh follows as I close my eyes and surrender to the sensations, to the indignity. Blood rushes through my veins, chasing an adrenaline spike, need and fear wracking my nerves and throbbing in my groin.
A soft, audible click sounds and my legs are drawn further apart. I bite back a whimper, low and libidinous, like an invitation for more.
Am I fucking mad?
‘Look at you, all wet and exposed.’
Admonishment? Appreciation? I can’t decide. I shake my head, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment, with shame. But the flaring sensations continue to build, stronger than ever before. Splayed across the table, the pulsing between my legs increases exponentially with the disgrace colouring my face.
‘Closing your eyes doesn’t make me go away. You’re wet and turned on... shamed by those reactions. I like it and so do you, in your own way. Fuck nice girls don’t,’ his voice derides from above.
I shake my head vigorously in denial, in misapprehension. Fuck the suggestion that nice girls don’t or just fuck... nice girls? Not that it matters, I can’t keep a thought in my head.
‘Pretty, pretty...’ he breathes. I feel the brush of air before the scent of his cologne becomes stronger, followed by the soft touch of his skin. ‘Lips,’ he whispers against my mouth, kissing me lightly as he stands over me, forehead to my chin.
I raise my arms, to draw him to me a split second before I realize that I can’t, that I’m powerless. I wriggle against the bindings as he smirks above me. He fuckingsmirks.
‘Let me help.’ His eyes shine as he straightens and reaches into the back pocket of his pants, pulling out a black, silk eye mask. ‘Bound, tethered, subdued.’ He slips the mask over my eyes.
‘I’m in awe of you,’ he breathes softly from above. ‘Do you know that? The fearless girl all alone on the other side of the world. Brave enough to embrace. To trust.’
I relax in small increments against the table, the knots of tension in my spine loosening. Like alchemy or sublimation, his words seep into me, restoring the delicate line between teasing and torment. My rapid breathing eases for the moment. A short moment as vestigial trepidation returns to my skin in a rush. Something cold and metal presses between my breasts; fabric tears, my nipples no longer restrained. I whimper again.
‘Relax.’ But it’s too late to tell me that as my spine stiffens, alarm slickly coating my skin as the remains of my bra is cut away. ‘You have no choice. Let go,’ he whispers as my panic amplifies. But then I melt under him, against him, as he places a moist kiss in the centre of my stomach. Sweet, sucking kisses move lower to my hipbones. I arch and whimper further as his words come back to haunt me.
Complicated. Twists your mind. Makes you come.
A mutinous moan escapes my throat, my hips jerking as his mouth works against me, resting at the apex of my thighs.
‘There’s no place to go. Give in, sweetheart. Give up.’
I whimper and writhe against him. For him. More touch, more words, more Kai. And then his tongue is where I need him, working me wetly; the feeling of it pushing inside me like an invasion. So immense. I have no option, but to take all he has to give. Sensations amplify, becoming electric, my body surging with the current. My fingers ball into fists, seeking to hang on as I climb; my body bowing from the wood in a motion of futility. I moan loudly as his tongue teases and swirls, skims and dips. Then two fingers are inside me, curling and beckoning me on. On the cusp of orgasm, I cry out, I surrender. Giving in. Giving over. Giving up. Right before he pulls back.
‘Rememberkhallas, Kate, and everything stops. Can you remember that?’
His movement brings me back to the moment and my absolute lack of control. I open my mouth, the word on the tip of my tongue before I swallow it back.
‘Tell me.’
‘Khallasand you’ll stop, but Kai—’ What will it take to get him to carry on?
‘Good girl.’
My heart beats like it would escape from my chest, the pulsing between my legs matching it in strength. And through all this I can sense him now by my side. I inhale deeper, willing myself to still, to hide my desperation and surrender to the absolute dark of the mask.
Leather. I can smell leather, candle wax and Kai.
My body jerks as the whip hits my stomach in barely a swipe. An electric-like surge courses through me but there’s no pain, norealpain.
Just a swipe to catch my attention.
I exhale a breath as the tendrils lift from my skin, slowly stroking the flesh of my torso, trailing my leg to my toes, before repeating against my other. Long, languid strokes skim my breasts and ribs, my skin quivering and tingling, receptive to every touch. The soft strands circle my stomach, sliding further still. I shudder violently as they caress the open ribbon of flesh between my legs, doubly so as his fingers follow in its wake.
