And a part of me did like that what Tony and I were doing was naughty. I wasn't raised to like something like this. Well, I'm not sure what I was raised to like about sex. Lila was very matter of fact about it. I remember her telling me that it was okay to feel sexual attraction and that I would know in my heart when it was right. She had no hard and fast rules about sex except that I had to respect myself and demand that my partner respect me, too.
"You want a clear choice?" he asks—no, demands—as he jerked me to him. Grasping my jaw, he keeps my gaze locked with his. "If you choose to stay with me, anything goes. Anything and everything."
Before I can respond, his lips crush mine. I'm not done being angry with him, but I can't escape his hold of me. All I can do is wiggle pathetically against his grasp. I can't protest. His mouth is all-consuming.
What is the matter with me? Why do I let him dominate me like this, and why does my body like it?
He backs me to the wall while his mouth continues to devour me. I offer feeble resistance.
After working my mouth till it is sore, he takes a break, letting me catch my breath and perhaps trying to catch his own. He presses his forehead to mine.
"You up for anything and everything? Can you take it?"
My head is spinning too much to form a coherent thought. I don't usually like confined spaces, but somehow my body enjoys being trapped by his.
The answer is no. You don't want to go there with this guy. You're a newbie when it comes to sex and BDSM. Don't think you can play in his league.
The defiant part of me rejects such condensation. It's the part of me that decided I was going to compete for the fourth grade science fair award because a boy in my class said that boys make better scientists. I didn't end up winning, but I was happy because another girl did.
"What's anything and everything?" I ask, stalling for time.
"Rough sex. Hard sex. Brutal sex."
Hello? How can any of that sound good to you?
But it does. With Tony, it does. Because on the flipside of all that is pleasure that I never imagined my body could experience.
I don't have an answer for him yet. He pulls my shirt over my head but doesn't pull it off my arms. Turning me around, he twists and ties my shirt, locking my arms behind my back. He scoops me in his arms, kicks the bedroom door closed, and deposits me on the bed.
"What are you going to do?" I ask a little nervously. I think I'm always going to be a little nervous around him.
"Help you make up your mind."
He pulls off my underwear. I hope he doesn't stick it in my mouth. As I sit with my knees up, he spreads my legs and swirls his finger over my clit, coaxing the bud to emerge.
“Don't move if you want the bedroom door to stay closed."
He walks into the bathroom and rummages through my toiletry bag. He finds a brand-new toothbrush head, which he uses to replace the one already on my toothbrush. He's going to brush his teeth?
He grabs my toothbrush and the dental floss before returning to the bed. Setting the toothbrush down, he pulls out a long length of floss. What the heck is he going to do with dental hygiene?
He starts winding the floss around my clit. I stare in astonishment. What the...? My clit protrudes like a pink pearl amidst the tied up flesh. He tugs on the floss, and I find myself moaning at the pulling sensation. He tugs up and down, side to side. I moan even more. He takes the other end of the floss, still attached to the plastic container, and loops it around my neck. He ties the floss, which constantly pulls on my clit unless I lean forward, but there's not enough slack in the floss for me to do so comfortably. He walks over to a pot of lilies on the dresser. He plucks off a petal, returns, and gently brushes it over my clit.
It tickles. In a nice, almost unbearable way. When the petal brushes up, I shake and strain. God Almighty. Who thought a little ole flower petal could prove so potent?
“Don’t move,” he reminds me when my body jerks away at the next kiss of the petal.
I try to stay still, partly because when I do move, I end up tugging on the floss. It’s not easy because my body wants to run away from the petal, and yet, I can feel my climax, which I do want, inching closer. And I do not want the door opened. Bad enough Eric saw me with undies in my mouth. But being tortured by dental floss and a flower petal?
My toes curl and my legs quiver as Tony intensifies the brushing. He tweaks a nipple, rolls the other one between his fingers, flicks the former one. It’s more sensation than I can take. Wetness is pooling beneath my ass. I’m actually going to come, because of a flower, with dental floss around my clit.
Or not.
He stops brushing me with the petal and leans in to kiss me. I pour all the frustration, tension and relief into the kiss. As if he knows I need this, he lets me, and when I have diffus
ed some of the agitation, he takes over. Clasping the back of my head, he roams over my lips, tastes the inside of my mouth, tugs and sucks my bottom lip until I whimper with need. With his thumb beneath my chin, he tilts my mouth up so that he can press down harder from above.
I realize I’m his to do as he pleases. I let him tie dental floss to my privates for Chrissakes.