me the restraints, Wednesday. The ones I bought you.”
He didn’t have to ask her twice. She dug them out of her bag, suddenly shy, and went to stand in front of him, placing them in his outstretched hand.
He closed rough fingers around the cuffs, and caught her elbow with the other hand, pulling her close.
“My little doll. You look like a doll, dressed up like this.”
“I never had any dolls that dressed like this.”
“Didn’t you? I would have thought you sprang right from your mother’s womb in fishnets, holding out a whip. Give me your hands.”
A shadow crossed her mind, some distant thought, but she pushed it away. She held out her hands, and he fixed the cuffs on to her wrists. The fur was soft against her skin, but the leather outer part was strong and unyielding. She shivered, stealing a glance at his face.
His lips were so beautiful, pursed in concentration. He lifted his gaze to hers, piercing blue eyes through bronze-blond lashes. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the inside of her wrist just beside the leather. He kissed the other wrist, and then he kissed her on the mouth, holding the cuffs’ attachment points hard. His lips were warm and rough, his tongue invasive. He bent her head back with the force of his kiss.
“Daniel,” she whispered when they parted. She sought him with her fingertips, but the cuffs held her fast, controlled by his hand.
“Go stand by the tree.”
He gave her a push in the right direction, which was just as well, because his kiss had pretty much shut down her brain activity. She went to the tree, and he followed. He pressed her forward against the peeling white bark. He lifted her arms, and she looked up to find a hook fixed into the tree, camouflaged by the base of a branch. There was also a chain with clips on it. He hooked her cuffs to different links until he found the one where she barely had to go up on her toes. She tested the strength of her bonds, tugging on the chain. She felt a rushing flood of heat to her pussy as she realized she couldn’t get away.
The restraints weren’t big, but they had hook-and-loop closures that didn’t give at all, and the chain was steel solid. He watched her pull and twist, an avid spectator. Again with the stare, and now she was doubly pinned, by his gaze and by the cuffs, which allowed her to turn but not get away. He put his hands on her waist, turning her outward. The bark scratched against her ass. She didn’t want to snag her garter belt, so she went still. His gaze roved over every inch of her.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Looking at what’s mine.”
She swallowed hard and shifted. When he talked like that, it made something inside her melt into a puddle. Please touch me.
“I like you in white. You were made to wear white, a sweet girl like you.” He ran his hand over her belly and down between her legs, a skilled, teasing trail. She arched her back, giving herself up to his talented touch.
He sank to his knees, his soft hair trailing down her center. She felt his palms between her legs, lifting her, parting her. He knelt and began to kiss her between her thighs. His hot breath whispered over her, and his stubble was a thrilling chafe against her skin. He went to work on her clit, tasting her like a starving man. His tongue flicked and lapped at her, every movement of his mouth a more insistent invasion. He squeezed her thighs where he held her parted and open to him. Her pelvis ached, and she started the slow, tense climb to orgasm.
“Oh Jesus! Oh God.” She moaned, twisting her hips to feel more of the hot, wet bliss. She pulled at the bonds, spread her legs wider, then drew them together as much as she could, only to have him push them open again. His mouth was driving her crazy. She wondered briefly how many girls he must have been with to hone this kind of skill. Don’t think about it, Wednesday . “God,”
He didn’t have to ask her twice. She dug them out of her bag, suddenly shy, and went to stand in front of him, placing them in his outstretched hand.
He closed rough fingers around the cuffs, and caught her elbow with the other hand, pulling her close.
“My little doll. You look like a doll, dressed up like this.”
“I never had any dolls that dressed like this.”
“Didn’t you? I would have thought you sprang right from your mother’s womb in fishnets, holding out a whip. Give me your hands.”
A shadow crossed her mind, some distant thought, but she pushed it away. She held out her hands, and he fixed the cuffs on to her wrists. The fur was soft against her skin, but the leather outer part was strong and unyielding. She shivered, stealing a glance at his face.
His lips were so beautiful, pursed in concentration. He lifted his gaze to hers, piercing blue eyes through bronze-blond lashes. He raised her hand to his lips and kissed the inside of her wrist just beside the leather. He kissed the other wrist, and then he kissed her on the mouth, holding the cuffs’ attachment points hard. His lips were warm and rough, his tongue invasive. He bent her head back with the force of his kiss.
“Daniel,” she whispered when they parted. She sought him with her fingertips, but the cuffs held her fast, controlled by his hand.
“Go stand by the tree.”
He gave her a push in the right direction, which was just as well, because his kiss had pretty much shut down her brain activity. She went to the tree, and he followed. He pressed her forward against the peeling white bark. He lifted her arms, and she looked up to find a hook fixed into the tree, camouflaged by the base of a branch. There was also a chain with clips on it. He hooked her cuffs to different links until he found the one where she barely had to go up on her toes. She tested the strength of her bonds, tugging on the chain. She felt a rushing flood of heat to her pussy as she realized she couldn’t get away.
The restraints weren’t big, but they had hook-and-loop closures that didn’t give at all, and the chain was steel solid. He watched her pull and twist, an avid spectator. Again with the stare, and now she was doubly pinned, by his gaze and by the cuffs, which allowed her to turn but not get away. He put his hands on her waist, turning her outward. The bark scratched against her ass. She didn’t want to snag her garter belt, so she went still. His gaze roved over every inch of her.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
“Looking at what’s mine.”
She swallowed hard and shifted. When he talked like that, it made something inside her melt into a puddle. Please touch me.
“I like you in white. You were made to wear white, a sweet girl like you.” He ran his hand over her belly and down between her legs, a skilled, teasing trail. She arched her back, giving herself up to his talented touch.
He sank to his knees, his soft hair trailing down her center. She felt his palms between her legs, lifting her, parting her. He knelt and began to kiss her between her thighs. His hot breath whispered over her, and his stubble was a thrilling chafe against her skin. He went to work on her clit, tasting her like a starving man. His tongue flicked and lapped at her, every movement of his mouth a more insistent invasion. He squeezed her thighs where he held her parted and open to him. Her pelvis ached, and she started the slow, tense climb to orgasm.
“Oh Jesus! Oh God.” She moaned, twisting her hips to feel more of the hot, wet bliss. She pulled at the bonds, spread her legs wider, then drew them together as much as she could, only to have him push them open again. His mouth was driving her crazy. She wondered briefly how many girls he must have been with to hone this kind of skill. Don’t think about it, Wednesday . “God,”
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