Chapter 14 #2
"What do you want?" I asked, meeting his gaze straight on. My heart raced, hoping I was picking up on the right vibe here. The whole being sweet thing was only one aspect of Cassius Titmus. Now it was time to let the darker side of him shine. The dominant side.
He proved me right a moment later. He tightened his grip on my hair and walked me backwards toward his bedroom. All the way to his bed, stopping when the back of my legs hit the mattress.
"I want you to lie down and put your arms over your head," he growled. He pressed me down onto my back and walked over to a set of drawers on one side of the bed. He slid one open and pulled out a length of purple rope. "Take your clothes off first."
I looked over to him. "And if I don't?"
This was a game, we just needed to establish the rules.
He wrapped the ends of the rope around his fingers and knelt on the side of the bed.
"Then I'll cut them off you." The words were punctuated by hair falling over his eye.
He pushed it back with the back of his hand, a bashful expression crossing his face.
Rueful that the universe was reminding him that he was awkward, even when he was trying to be assertive.
My eyes on his, I undid the front of my skinny jeans and pushed them down my hips. I had to sit up to unlace my boots and toe them off. I kicked my jeans off onto the floor and grabbed the hem of my shirt.
Slowly, I pulled it up over my head and tossed it aside.
Just as slowly, I lay back and put my hands up over my head, lying in the middle of his bed in only my bra and panties.
His Adam's apple bobbed, front of his pants tenting as his erection grew.
"Good girl." He moved over closer, looping the smooth rope around my wrists and tying the other end to the headboard. Secure, but nothing I couldn't pull myself out of if I needed to.
He had to have known that. If I could flip him, then I could deal with him in this situation if I needed to. At the same time, it gave him a feeling of dominance; I saw that in his eyes.
"You like that? Being called a good girl." He sat beside me, his knees bent under him.
I hummed my agreement.
"Good, you can call me sir." He leaned down to my neck and traced a line from just under my ear to my throat, with his tongue.
I shivered. His touch was light, but sent a jolt right down to my core.
Slowly, he traced a line the opposite way, across to my other ear. He nibbled on the lobe before placing a hand beside my face and kissing my mouth. He tasted of taco, beer and something else I couldn't quite place. Something uniquely Cass. Whatever it was, I wanted more.
He traced the seam of my lips with his tongue, then moved down my cheek, my chin, my throat. He kissed his way down my chest and stomach
"I want to taste your pussy," he said.
"Yes, sir," I whispered. My panties were drenched by now. If I was any wetter, I'd start to trickle down my own thighs.
"Fuck," he whispered.
I sensed this was a fantasy he held for a long time. One that never happened for him. Not until now. It took someone to look past the awkward geek to see underneath. He was a man with needs, wants and from the look of the front of his pants, a decent-sized cock.
He gripped the waistband of my panties and slowly slid them down as if revealing a present on Christmas morning. Hoping he'd find what he asked Santa for, but hardly daring to believe it would be possible.
Judging by the widening of his eyes, he found exactly what he was wishing for. Neatly trimmed curls and a wet pussy.
He placed my panties aside as if they were a sacred object and parted my knees with his thighs.
"Did I do this?" He ran his thumb down my pussy, from my clit to my entrance. "Are you this wet for me?"
"Yes, sir," I said again.
I barely finished speaking, when he pushed two fingers inside me. "You don't want me to be gentle." He didn't phrase it as a question, but it wasn't an assumption either.
"I can take it however you give it," I said. After a moment I added, "Sir."
He pushed his fingers in deeper, all the way up to the knuckle, then lowered his face and inhaled deeply again.
"You smell better than…" He shook his head, apparently unable to think of a comparison.
"Tacos?" I offered.
He looked up at me and grinned, showing those couple of crooked teeth. "Much better than tacos. Maybe even better than your meatballs."
I bit back a response to that. It was probably better if he didn't know how close he was to the truth.
He didn't seem to notice my internal struggle. His fingers still deep inside me, he tasted me with the tip of his tongue.
"No offense to your cooking, but you taste better." He glanced up at me, then started to lap at me while driving his fingers into me, over and over.
I had no answer for that. Nothing except to arch my back and push myself harder against his mouth. I wanted to touch my nipples, but I was still in my bra and with my hands bound above my head. The torture was sweet.
"Are you close?" he said between licks.
"So close," I panted.
"I want to see you come," he said. "I want to see you come while you're tied to my bed." He groaned at his own words. His cock must have been straining the seams of his pants, threatening to shred them.
"Yes, sir," I said breathlessly. I wanted that too. Not just because it was an orgasm, because this was his fantasy and I wanted it to be what he hoped. Better than he hoped.
He swallowed hard and went on working me with his tongue and fingers, pushing me toward an orgasm that had me crying out his name. Enveloped by a wave of warmth and pleasure. The heady rush of release that darkened my vision and made me see stars.
He went on working me until my flesh was too sensitive and I had to draw back a little.
"That was perfect." He crawled up until we were face-to-face again before pressing his mouth to mine, letting me taste myself on his lips. "You come nicely."
He kissed me again before reaching for the rope and untying it.
"You don't want to…" I started to say.
"Next time," he said. "This time I just wanted you to feel good."
"I did," I said. Except for the return of the guilt at lying to him. I trusted him to tie me up, but what reason have I given him to trust me?