THE ST. ANDREWS CROSS
From my chair in the darkened corner, I watch her. I love to watch her. She has no idea what an incredible sensually stunning woman she is. And she’s giving herself to me.
I am one lucky son-of-a-bitch.
I have to stifle a groan when she runs her hands up the length of the padded plank and caresses it like a lover.
Ah, pet, that isn’t the only thing you’re going to be introduced to tonight.
I watch the rise and fall of her breasts with each intake of breath, how her fingers close and open in her palms, and the slow lick of her lips with her pink tongue.
Lifting myself from the chair, the carpet muffles my steps to her. I have to get close to her, feel the heat of her body penetrate mine. She can feel my closeness behind the darkness of the blindfold, I can tell by the hardening of her nipples and how her head dips back ever so slightly.
That’s right, pet, let go.
Very gently, I touch a pebbled nipple with the tip of my finger. The slight touch sends a ripple of electricity coursing through me. Her body goes rigid, arcing to it as she gasps loudly. I follow the line of her body up her arm to clasp her wrist to enclose it in the padded cuff. I do not touch her as I fasten the other wrist and her ankles. When she’s restrained, I step back and fill my eyes with her.
I grit my teeth and growl silently.
Placing my hands on the wall at the sides of her head, I lean forward and take a long slow swipe up her cheek with my tongue to taste her. Her mouth drops open. I pull her lower lip between my teeth and bite. She gasps. I close my teeth on the outer curve of her breast needing to see my mark on her. She pushes it into my mouth. I brand her all over her body with my teeth, lips and tongue, licking a long line up her arms and nibbling a trail up and down her thighs. She writhes beneath me. Still, I don’t touch her except with what I’m imprinting her with.
She’s here, she’s safe. She’s going to stay that way.
The music rises and falls, dips and bends, carrying us into the darkness.
I step back and watch her breathe. I can see her loins pulse with each roll of her stomach. Picking up the crop, I place it on her cheek. She turns her face to it and lifts her shoulder, her expression that of a woman welcoming her seducer. I know she can smell the leather, recognize the shape, and she’s imagining how it’s going to feel when it kisses her skin. I slide it down her neck, over one breast, leg, then up the inside of her thigh, over her pussy, (she moans deeply), down the inside of the other thigh, up her leg and over her abdomen to slip over her other nipple, until it comes to rest below her chin, lifting it up. I hold her face like that as I lower my mouth to hers and trace her lips with my hungry tongue. I can feel her trembling, the longing consuming her.
I pull myself and the crop from her.
RELEASING Friday, 8/12
***18+, very strong sexual content, strong language, BDSM. Second part to a series, there is a bit of a cliffhanger.