Chapter 3 #5
“I would love to take control of you.” There’s a fervent look in his eyes, and a smirk on his lips, which softens for a moment with what he says next.
He rubs his thumb along my lower lip as I soak everything in…
I can’t remember the last time I felt this vulnerable.
“More than that,” he says, “I’d be honored for you to give me the trust that requires.
” Something inside me begins to break open with that statement.
I didn’t realize how tightly wound I’ve been until this moment.
I take a deep breath and shudder slightly upon exhale.
His devilish grin returns, and he whispers in my ear, “And I was hoping you’d say that. ”
I tremble and adrenaline begins to course through me at a faster rate.
We are no longer at a precipice. Things have tipped.
Suddenly, Devo shifts his weight so that both of his hands are free.
I don’t want him to pull away after the intensity of our exchanged comments and my eyebrows draw down.
Devo sees my expression and laughs with that warm tenor that I’ve begun to recognize.
“Oh, don’t worry, love. We’re just getting started.”
“Ready when you are.” I roll my eyes; cheekier than I intended to be.
“Ooo, a touch of sass.” He gets off the couch, towering over me as I lay there.
“And here I was thinking you’d be as sweet as your southern roots.
” I go to sit up and he puts up a finger.
“Nuh uh, you’re to stay where you are.” I cock my head and my heart keeps racing as I recognize that we’re working our way into a dynamic.
A dynamic I want, but one I’m nervous about, and equally as excited for.
“Have you ever done something like this before?” he probes.
I glance left and right. “What do you mean? Hooking up with someone?”
He suppresses a smile and then schools his features into a serious mask. “No. I mean have you ever played with control?”
I shake my head and blink. He nods in response, looking away for a moment.
“Now this is important, Charlotte.” He turns back to me and lowers himself down on one knee beside the couch. I twist my head to look him directly in the eyes.
I nod. “I’m listening.”
“‘Red’ means stop. If you say ‘red,’ I will immediately stop whatever we’re doing, no questions asked. Do you understand?”
I nod gravely, I think I know the rest of what he’s about to say.
“‘Yellow’—” he begins before I interrupt.
“You’ll slow down,” I finish, my voice quiet but sure. “Right?”
Devo cocks his head. “Yes, it does. Smart girl. And we will adjust what we are doing.” I nod again in acquiescence.
“Would you like to guess what ‘green’ means?”
“I do have a driver’s license, you know”—I roll my eyes—“I understand the meaning of a stoplight.”
Devo raises his eyebrows but doesn’t look displeased.
In fact, it looks like he’s preparing for a challenge as he tilts his chin up to look down at me.
He then rubs his first two fingers along his bottom lip and shakes his head back and forth in thought.
I imagine he’s rifling through options, and I’m absolutely titillated.
“So, you know how to follow the rules of the road then, Miss Faure?”
I feel we just established this, so I simply nod—confused where this is going.
“Hmm.” He inclines his head. “Well then, how did the last two nights of not touching yourself go?”
He can’t possibly know how I would have reacted to that suggestion, could he? We hadn’t had any kind of conversation about rule following or control before that. I think I’m hiding my thoughts, but once again, it appears Devo is reading me more than I would like.
“Charlotte”—he hangs on the last syllable—“I thought you liked following directions.” His eyes rove my face. The truth of my morning activities must be written all over me.
“You said to hold off for the night.” I tilt my chin up with feigned defiance. “And I did. For both nights.” Another head cock from Devo, waiting for more.
My cheeks redden in anticipation of his reaction. “But you said nothing about this morning.”
Devo laughs again and I feel my lips turning down in a scowl. I’m not sure what his laughter means and I’m ready to be defensive.
“Oh you beautiful, lustful, naughty young lady.” He tsks and I squirm.
“You know, I like the way you dressed today. I especially like this—” he fingers the soft yellow and white kerchief at my neck.
In a few seconds, he has the knot undone and is pulling the fabric out from around my neck in a whoosh.
He whips it up above my head and I lean back to see him threading my kerchief through the intricate back of the settee.
Thick wooden flowers are carved into the wood with some gaps clear through to the other side.
“Give me your hands,” he says gruffly. I slowly offer my hands to him, piecing together what he’s going to do and wanting to follow instructions. He snags my wrists in one hand and pulls them up above my head. I feel the fabric wrap my wrists and go snug. Now I gasp aloud.
I look up at my wrists as best I can and give a few tugs.
There’s very little give. I’m simultaneously impressed by how fast Devo bound me, terrified, and, well, more than a little turned on.
Devo watches me struggle for a moment before interrupting.
“You’re just tightening the knot, Charlotte,” he says in a low voice with a smug look—his features dancing with playful tension.
From under the settee, Devo pulls out a matching red velvet pillow and places it in the gap between my back and the couch now that my wrists are pulling my body back and up. It was weirdly thoughtful. I shift to get more comfortable.
He drags his eyes up and down the full length of my body now and I shift again under his gaze. No, not shift. Writhe. The way my body moves on the couch is something out of my control. It’s instinct, and I can tell that Devo’s reacting on instinct too.
His jaw ticks as I lightly roll my hips, and his hands flex when I push up my breasts and allow my head to fall back slightly.
Even though I’m the one tied down, I’ve ensnared the man standing free before me.
Warmth rushes my chest and I feel pleased with myself.
My alter ego is coming out and she demands to be thoroughly sexed.
“Now you just—” Devo manages to get out, gesturing at me with one of his palms “—stay like that.” He slides his other hand down his face, as if he’s trying to rid himself of a trance.
“Just like that.” He soaks me in for another long moment before he forces himself to turn on his heel and duck around the corner of the space.
I thought I could see everything in here when I first walked in, but I realize there are a few nooks and crannies I hadn’t been able to see around initially.
While Devo is out of my sight, a shred of doubt slips into my mind, and my sensual smile begins to fade. I trust Devo not to hurt me, and… I do believe he is who he says he is, but am I being too vulnerable with a near stranger?
Before this train of thought gets too far out of the station, Devo reappears from around the corner.
Four red solo cups, unstacked, are clutched in one of his hands and paint brushes are in the other.
He’s already eyeing me again like I’m the most mesmerizing object he's ever seen.
I feel admired. I imagine this is how a work of art feels.
“You tied me down to throw a frat party?” I nod my chin at the red cups held together by his long fingers.
“No, I tied you down because we can’t have you touching yourself again, now can we?” He sets the solo cups down on the ground next to the elevated canvas.
My cheeks heat. “And because you wanted me to,” he finishes with a wink. Before I can conjure a counterargument, he takes the three steps back to the settee to tower over me.
I’d just started to splutter out, “But we hadn’t—I didn’t—” when he puts his finger to my lips.
“I wanted to also, don’t you worry.” He runs his rough palm down the side of my face, my neck, my collar bone, and finally, finally, runs his hand over my breast. I can feel my nipple hardening and the fine hair on my arms raise.
He continues down to my upper thigh and he squeezes, biting his lip.
“In fact, I’d like to bind you in more ways.
” He grins down at me, and I realize I’m not alone in operating through a lustful haze.
“I’d like to do all sorts of unspeakable things to you.
” He begins to slip up the hem of my shirt and he bends over to touch his lips to my lower abdomen, right above the button of my pants.
Once again, the warmth of his breath against my skin has me aching.
This man knows how to draw things out! We haven’t even had a proper kiss yet, but my hips undulate at the graze of his full lips.
He sits up again quickly, removing himself from me, yet again. I yank against my wrist tie. “Devo,” I let out in a half moan, half complaint.
“Oh, I know, believe me.” Something in Devo’s tightly controlled tone has my eyes flitting down to his pants.
He’s wearing black jeans, and now that I’m looking, I can see a bulge straining at his fly.
I suck in a cheek and let my tongue wander around the inside of my mouth.
Then I bite my lip at the realization of what I’m doing and try to stop my imagination from sucking a dick I hadn’t yet seen.
I am truly lost in this haze. At least it’s not just me.
“And to answer your earlier question,” he says, smiling over me, “the solo cups are not an indication of a frat party, missy. They are very important art supplies. The means to create are more accessible than people think.” He says the last part under his breath.
I mentally note the sentiment, but I have more important topics at hand.