“More than I should have.”
My body reacted before my thoughts did. My hand shot up and grabbed her directly by the throat, my fingers large enough to almost wrap all the way around it. Her back hit the wall with a blunt thud, enough to break her breath as my fingers closed tighter around her throat. Her eyes widened, and that… did something to me.
I leaned in. She met my mouth with a kind of hunger that had nothing cautious in it, as if patience had already been abandoned. She responded instantly. Soft moans slipping from her, her body pressing forward instead of pulling back. That told me everything I needed to know.
Krystyna’s lips had been on mine many times before, but not like they were then. My body knew hers, every movement, every sound, her warmth, but every time before she’d been the one in control. Of what happened, and of me.
The feeling of her body in my hands did something to me I hadn’t expected.
I pulled away first. Her breath was uneven, and it left me wanting more of what just happened between us. I let go of her throat slowly, watching the way her body reacted to the absence of pressure, the way she stayed exactly where I left her instead of pulling back.
I turned and walked into the kitchen like I owned the space. The drawers slid open one after the other, the sound too loud in the quiet apartment, wood scraping lightly, metal shifting, until… there. Duct tape. I took it and closed the drawer. When I walked back into the living room, she was on the sofa. She had already taken care of the distance between where she was and where she wanted to be. Clothes gone. She was watching me. There was no hesitation in her. That was almost amusing.
“Up.”My voice was low. The energy in the room felt different, something neither of us had ever managed to create in the house with Bartosz there.
For a moment, I wasn’t sure if she could feel it too, but the searching, almost yielding look in her eyes told me everything I needed to know.
She moved as I stepped in. I went around her slowly, not touching yet, letting her feel the space close instead. I didn’t rush it, just stayed there long enough for it to sink in. Then I took hold of her.
I pulled her arms back without hesitation, forced them together, felt the shift in her body the second it registered. The tape came next, tight enough that she felt it immediately, tight enough that there was no doubt about what was happening. Her breathing changed under my hands. I paid attention to that, to the way it sped up, the way her body reacted. I noticed everything. Her ankles next. She didn’t resist, not even a little.
I left her there, kneeling as I sat down. The sofa dipped slightly beneath my weight, the leather giving a soft sigh as I settled into it. My posture relaxed just enough to look effortless, but there was nothing careless about it. Even though the roles between us had changed, my body stayed tense and painfully aware of everything around her. One arm stretched across the back of the sofa while my fingers moved slowly against the fabric, almost absentmindedly, but my eyes never left her.
I could hear her breathing. Could hear my thumb rubbing against the sofa in slow motions. The longer the silence dragged on, the harder it started pressing against the room, until it felt like one wrong word would change everything between us. My hands moved to my belt without any hurry to them. I took my time with it, fingers brushing against the buckle while I kept my eyes on her.
I knew she was watching.
The fabric shifted until my cock sprang free, already hard and throbbing. I let my hand wrap around the shaft, slowly stroking it. I leaned back against the sofa, tilting my head just enough to keep her in view without having to move much. Her eyes stayed on me the whole time, and after a while, it started feeling less like she was just looking and more like she was caught on something. Something between us had changed, and she felt it too. I could see it in the way her body stayed still even when her eyes moved over me again. The room felt warmer now, almost close, and every time she breathed in, the scent of her reached me a little more. Sweet, distracting, getting into my head in a way that made it hard to think about anything else. That was when it settled somewhere deep in me, heavy enough that I couldn’t ignore it anymore.
The way she looked at me now had changed. I could feel it in every second her eyes stayed on mine, in the way her body had gone still without even realizing it. Everything around usfelt different compared to before. Closer and more dangerous somehow. I kept watching her, letting my eyes move over her face slowly, and the strange part was how right it felt. Like this had been building between us long before either of us finally stopped pretending not to notice it.
It had never been difficult for her to make me cum, but let’s be honest, a woman wrapped around your cock, and most men are already there, I'm no different. But there was something about the way my body reacted to seeing her like this. Tied up, defenseless, fuck… the heat spread low in my stomach, my balls tightening and my cock leaking with precum…
Careful now, little Ghost.
There’s no reason to get jealous, and don’t deny it, don’t fucking lie to me. I could feel it, the way your attention shifted. I know this isn’t easy for you, but you can’t look away now. This is where it gets good, baby, make me proud, and
don’t retreat now.
I didn’t tell her twice, I didn’t need to.
“Crawl to me.”
There's a moment, right before someone obeys, where you can see it. The submission behind their eyes. She understood what I was asking for, what I was taking. And she wanted it. She moved slowly, struggling to crawl across the floor, her eyes never leaving mine, like she was trying to read something in my face, trying to understand which version of me she had in front of her now. She wouldn’t find it, not anymore.
I guided her where I wanted her, her mouth to my cock while my hand settled in her hair. Just enough to establish control, to remind her where she was, who she was kneeling for.
There’s something about that position. Not the act itself, the shift. The way someone stops being in control of themselves and becomes responsive instead. Her lips slid down over my cock,her tongue played along every vein until she started choking on it. I pushed her head down further and watched her struggle while tears left her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She adjusted quickly, faster than I expected. Of course she did. Her body knew this language.
For a second, just a second, something old tried to surface. Something familiar. Something that didn’t belong to me. I didn’t let it stay; instead, I tightened my grip. Not enough to hurt, but enough to correct. That’s all it takes sometimes. Little Ghost… you would’ve felt that too.
That moment where something could’ve gone one way… and didn't.
I kept my eyes on her. On every reaction, every shift her pathetic little body gave. I didn’t rush; that was the point. The point was control. The way I decided how far, how fast, when. And she followed, willingly.
My grip changed, even tighter now, closer to the root of her hair. Her breathing hitched, her body reacted. There’s a rhythm that builds in moments like that. Something that lives in the space between control and reaction. I could feel the muscles in my thighs tighten, tensing up as I lost more and more control over the heat spreading through my stomach. I looked down at her, my free hand sliding over her cheeks, wiping the tears from her eyes softly as she looked up at me with desperation in her eyes, my hand in her hair pressing her head further down over my cock until I was buried in her throat.
I let my fingers slide from her cheeks over her nose until my fingers, without thinking, cut off her oxygen. My head tilted back for a second, just enough to let it settle, to let it stretch out instead of rushing it, my hand still anchored in her hair, keeping her exactly where I wanted her. Her body reacted instantly.
