“Scalpel,” I repeat, showing him that I understand his directions.
“Good,” he murmurs, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from my face. His fingers linger against my cheek, warm and gentle. “Now turn around. Hands behind your back.”
My movements feel slow, deliberate as I follow his instructions. The floorboards creak beneath my feet as I turn, presenting my back to him. My wrists tremble slightly as I bring them together behind me. The cool metal of the handcuffs contrasts with the heat of his skin as he secures them around my wrists. They're not too tight, just enough to remind me of their presence with every subtle movement.
“You okay?” he asks, his lips close to my ear, his breath warm against my neck.
I nod again, words escaping me for a moment. “Better than okay,” I finally manage, leaning back slightly into his touch.
His hands slide down my arms, over my shoulders, tracing the line of my spine. I shiver despite the warmth in the room. Every nerve ending feels alive, hyperaware of his touch, his proximity, and the sound of his breathing.
“I've imagined this,” he admits, his voice dropping to that low register that makes my stomach clench. “You, like this. Trusting me completely.”
“Alex,” I breathe, testing the cuffs lightly. They hold firm, a secure weight against my wrists. “What are you going to do to me?”
His laugh is soft but dark. “Everything you want me to. Everything you've been too afraid to ask for.”
He keeps me tight against him beside the bed, turning me to face him. His eyes roam over me, taking in every detail. I feel exposed in a way that has nothing to do with my state of undress. He's seeing parts of me I've kept hidden from everyone, including myself.
“You're beautiful like this,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “So open, so willing.”
I arch toward him, seeking his touch. “Please, Alex.”
He doesn't make me wait. His mouth covers mine, and I melt into the kiss. It's hungry and demanding, yet somehow still gentle. His tongue explores my mouth, claiming and tasting. I moan against his lips, my body responding instantly to his touch. My nipples pebble with each brush of his skin against mine, and a familiar ache builds between my thighs.
His hands slide down my sides, tracing my curves before settling on my hips. He pulls me flush against him, and I can feel his hardness pressing against me. The realization that I affect him this much, that he wants me as desperately as I want him, is intoxicating.
“Bed,” he commands against my mouth, guiding me backward until my legs hit the mattress.
I sit down heavily, looking up at him. He stands over me, a predator assessing his prey. But there's no fear in me, only anticipation.
I've never been particularly self-conscious about my body, but under his scrutiny, I feel like a masterpiece being unveiled.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over my collarbone. “Absolutely perfect.”
He lowers himself to his knees, his hands braced on my thighs. The position puts him at eye level with my breasts, and he doesn't hesitate to take advantage. His mouth closes over one peaked nipple, and I gasp at the sensation. His teeth graze the sensitive bud, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core.
“Alex,” I moan, arching into his touch. “God, don't stop.”
He chuckles against my skin, the vibration adding another layer of sensation. “I have no intention of stopping.”
The wet heat of his tongue against my nipple is almost too much, and I squirm beneath him, seeking more.
His other hand moves between my legs, pressing against the dampness between my legs. I'm already so wet, so ready for him. He circles my clit, teasing rather than satisfying. I rock my hips, trying to increase the friction, but he pulls back slightly, denying me.
“Patience,” he murmurs, lifting his head to look at me. “Good things come to those who wait.”
“I've waited long enough,” I retort, my voice breathy. “Please, Alex. I need...”
“I know what you need,” he says. “But I want you to beg for it first.”
The words shock me, but I find myself considering it. Begging has never been in my nature. I'm the one who takes charge, who gets things done. But here, now, with my hands cuffed behind my back and Alex looking at me like I'm his greatest treasure, I find I want to give him this. I want to give him everything.
“Please,” I whisper, the word feeling foreign and yet right. “Please, Alex. Touch me.”
“Touch you where?” he prompts, his fingers still circling my clit.
“Everywhere,” I breathe. “I want your hands on me, your mouth, your... everything.”
