“Mmm-hmm,” she moaned, her movements growing quicker.
“Stop and show me your fingers.” Her eyes flew open at my order and she responded, taking her fingers from her pussy and holding them up for me to inspect. In the sunlight, we could both see them dripping with her sweet, slick arousal. “You see how hot that is?” I asked her holding her wrist, keeping her fingers up where we could both get a good look. “You’re so turned on.”
“Yes,” she whispered her confession.
“You want to touch yourself some more,” I murmured to her, letting her know I understood. Caressing her hair, I let her know it was all right to feel that way. She could let herself go with me.
“Yes,” she admitted with a needy moan.
“Good. Keep your thighs nice and wide apart for me when you touch yourself. I want to see everything.”
She sighed as she complied, spreading those flexible hips and opening herself to me as she leaned against the wall and fingered her dripping pussy. Her skin a feverish pink, her pussy lips spread apart, she was getting herself close, fast.
“I want to see you fuck yourself with your fingers,” I growled, watching her work. “But you need to do it slow. Go slow for me.” She moaned in needy frustration, taking her fingers away from her swollen clit. Then slowly, oh so slowly, she thrust them up inside, then drew them out, in and out, in and out.
“I like watching you do that,” I murmured, husky. “And you like showing me.”
“Yes,” she moaned, opening her thighs even wider.
“You like showing me how much I turn you on.”
“Oh yes.” Her fingers moved faster in response.
“Watching you makes me hard, Sophie.” I groaned and palmed my length, pressing against my jeans. Her eyes flew to my hand, feasting on the bulge I cupped. “You’ve done this to me. You like knowing that, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded low and drugged with heated passion. I liked getting her into that space, where she’d open up and do what she really wanted.
“You need to cum,” I observed with compassion. She nodded, admitting it to me. “I know you need to cum. But there’s something I’d like to show you first. Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Place your hands down by your sides.” She did as she was told, but slow and reluctant. Naughty girl. I needed her to listen to me and understand. “What I want to do to you may feel uncomfortable at first. So I need you to look into my eyes and tell me. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, Liam,” she instantly replied, looking up at me with wide eyes. “I trust you.”
“Good. But if it gets to be too much for you, just say stop.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Tell me to stop and I will.” We looked at each other, nodding in agreement, her eyes wide with anticipation. I took her hand, savoring the slickness of her fingers, gliding mine along hers. She followed me into the bathroom.
“Wait here for me and undress. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I left her standing in the middle of the tile floor, unsure but wanting. I headed to her closet and searched for something I could use. At my house, of course I had a whole bag of tricks, but I hadn’t brought them. I hadn’t planned on doing this today. I hadn’t even planned on touching her today.
But now I knew I needed more. She did, too. She needed to start her lessons, revealing the true nature of herself and what aroused her most. Finding a dress, I removed the tie from the waist. That would do.
I returned to find her sitting perched naked on the rim of the tub, nervously biting her lip. The sight of her bare breasts made my nostrils flare, my jaw clench in lust. They were larger than when we’d last been together, probably because she’d gained a bit of weight on her ballerina’s frame. I loved it, the extra ten or so giving her more curves, more feminine softness. Her breasts were the perfect shape, rounding up into pink tips so sensitive, so needy. They’d get the attention they craved in a few minutes.
“Stand up,” I ordered, keeping my clothes on. Today was all about power, giving and receiving. There was a lot for her to learn.
“I’m going to bind your wrists together. Have you ever been tied up before?” I tried to keep my voice steady and level as I asked. I wanted her to be honest. But if she admitted she’d done it in the past with other men, I might lose my mind.
“No, never.”
I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. “I don’t want to hurt you, Sophie. You tell me if it’s too tight. You need to keep your circulation. But you won’t be able to move your arms. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” She brought her wrists together in front of her body. The sight of her standing before me, completely naked, offering her wrists together to be tied fired me through with animal lust. I groaned low in my throat, grabbed her rough enough to make her gasp and wrapped the cloth belt around her wrists once, twice, three times then tied it tight.
“Over here,” I guided her to the edge of the tub, bringing her wrists above her head and over to the shower curtain rod where I could fasten the edges. I wrapped it around a few times, again tying a tight, expert knot.
Then I stepped back, surveying my handiwork. She stood at her full height, her wrists above her head bound together and fastened to the rod. Her ribs stood out, her breasts quivering as she shook and panted, twisting slightly against her restraints.
“Are you in pain?” I wanted it tight, but not too tight. Her hands didn’t look red, no sign of circulation being cut off.
“No, but it does feel… it feels strange.”
“Yes.” I nodded. It would. She’d never done it before. “You’re vulnerable like this. Exposed.” She shivered at my words, her breathing coming fast. “I can do anything I want to you.” A needy moan escaped her lips as I heightened her anticipation, feasting on her body with my eyes, traveling up her legs, examining her glistening pussy. She’d gotten herself so close to orgasm. She must be throbbing there still, aching, needing release. But I wouldn’t give it to her yet. She needed to wait and want.
I brought my gaze up to her quivering stomach, her naked breasts. Taking a step closer, I blew a teasing breath across her aroused tips.
“Ooh.” Her breath left her in a rush, her eyelids flickering closed. Bound for me, I wanted every sense heightened, her vulnerability leaving her breathless. I started kissing her, softly, lightly, around the base of her breasts, up by the sides. Whisper kisses. She moaned and panted as I brought my hands up, cupping, massaging.
“I like watching you respond to me,” I explained to her. “You show me how good it feels.”
“Yes,” she moaned.
“I want you to think about the night we talked on the ph
one. You pinched your nipples hard for me.” She panted, twisting against her restraints. The mind was the most powerful aphrodisiac. “This feels nice.” I caressed the swell of her breasts, light and gentle with my fingers. “But you want more.”
“I…I don’t know,” she stammered.
Abruptly, I removed my hands. “You need to be completely honest with me,” I reprimanded her sternly. She needed to understand the requirements. I demanded total vulnerability. It might scare her, but she needed to trust me. “That’s how this works. You must open up to me. You may not hold back.”
“Yes, Liam, I’m sorry,” she apologized, her eyes wide open. “I promise.”
“I’ll give you another chance. But you need to be honest. Tell me.” I started caressing her again, sweet and gentle, feathering my touch around her breasts. “You like this.” Kissing her lightly on her soft, quivering mounds, she whined and arched her back. “But you crave more.”
“Yes,” she admitted, panting.
At the sides of her aching tips, fingers up near her nipples, I stroked her slowly, gently, coaxing the answer out of her. “You need me to make it hurt.”
“I need it to hurt,” she pleaded, eyes closed, head turned to the side, surrendering to the truth.
“That’s good,” I praised her honesty, blowing on her sensitive tips as she squirmed and moaned. “I could pinch you like you did to yourself.” I wanted her to picture it, crave it, grow so wet wanting it that she stopped caring any more about what was right or wrong, what she should or shouldn’t want. In a whisper, I added low and gravelly, “Or I could bite you with my teeth.”
“Yes, oh yes, please.”
“See, isn’t that better?” I watched her, panting and writhing. “When you’re honest with me, when you tell me the truth, it feels good, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, Liam, it feels so good.”