Chapter 11 #2
Her head tipped back. Her mouth opened on a soft breath. I kissed the hollow beneath her jaw. Then the line of her collarbone. My fingertips traced her ribs, slow enough that she shivered before I reached her waist.
She arched.
“Daddy.”
“I’m here.”
“Touch me.”
“I am touching you.”
“Touch me more . . .”
I kissed the side of her breast. Not her nipple. I let my breath move over the tightened peak without giving her the contact she wanted.
She made an angry little sound.
It was beautiful.
My fingers traveled down her stomach, over the inside of her thigh, then away again. Her legs opened.
I moved between them only long enough for her to attempt a trap. Her thighs snapped around my hips.
I stopped.
“Little one.”
She held me there.
“Remain still.”
“No.”
The word had no fear in it. Only defiance.
I caught both her hips and pressed them firmly into the mattress. Not hard enough to hurt. Enough that she understood she could not move me.
Her breath hitched.
“Do you remember what you agreed?” I asked.
“To tell you the truth.”
“And?”
“To follow instructions.”
Her body eased beneath my hands.
“Good girls wait for what Daddy chooses to give them.”
The sentence went through her.
Her lips parted. Her thighs trembled.
“Yes, Daddy.”
I kissed her once, deeply enough to make her gasp. Then I moved down her body. Her legs opened before I asked. I stroked my thumb over her inner thigh, then finally put my mouth where she wanted it.
Her cry broke into the room.
I held her hips down with one hand and licked her slowly. Not rushing. Not taking. Learning.
She was already wet. My tongue moved through her, finding the swollen place that made her pull against the restraints. I gave her a measured rhythm, then slipped one finger into her.
Her body tightened around it.
“More,” she whispered.
“Still.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
A second finger joined the first. I curled them carefully. Her breath came fast. Her bound hands clenched above her head, silk scarf crushed in her right palm.
I brought her close.
I felt it in the change of her muscles. In the quick, helpless rise of her hips against my hand. In the way her voice lost all sharp edges.
“Daddy, I’m close.”
I withdrew my fingers.
My mouth left her.
She cried out, stunned and frustrated.
“No.”
I kissed her thigh.
“You held still beautifully.”
Her breathing shook.
“I was good?”
“You were very good.”
The praise softened her.
I remained between her thighs, watching her struggle to settle. Her chest rose and fell quickly. Her lips were wet from biting them. Her body glistened beneath the lamp.
I wanted to give her everything.
Instead, I gave her time to breathe.
Then I began again.
My fingertips moved over her thighs. My mouth returned to her breasts. I took one dark nipple between my lips and drew it in slowly until her back arched.
“Daddy.”
“Yes, little one?”
“Please.”
“Please what?”
She let out a sound of frustration.
I released her breast and stroked my thumb over the damp corner of her mouth.
“Words.”
“Touch me.”
“Where?”
Her face flushed beneath the blindfold.
“Down there.”
“That is not an answer.”
Her wrists pulled lightly against the cuffs. The bedframe did not move.
“Please touch my pussy, Daddy.”
“Good girl.”
I did.
My fingers moved through her wetness. One, then two. My thumb circled her clit in slow, steady patterns while I kissed her throat.
Her breath turned ragged.
I brought her close.
Then I stopped.
The second denial hit harder. Her body bucked once before she remembered the instruction. She froze, trembling beneath my hands.
“Daddy, please may I come?”
“No.”
Her breath broke.
“Not yet.”
She made a soft wounded sound. I kissed her temple.
“You’re safe. I’m not leaving you here.”
I resumed. Slower. Long enough that she stopped thinking in words. Her body told me what she could not. Her thighs tightened. Her fingers flexed. Her head moved restlessly against the pillow.
Again, she climbed. Again, I held her at the edge.
“Daddy,” she gasped. “I’m going to come.”
“You may not.”
Her legs trembled violently.
“Please.”
“Breathe.”
“I am breathing.”
“Not enough.”
She dragged in a breath and released it too fast.
“Again.”
She obeyed.
The blindfold had made every sensation bigger. I saw it now. The way her mouth tightened. The way her hands had begun to pull harder against the silk.
I withdrew my hand.
“Daddy?” Panic threaded through the word.
I held still.
“Tell me where you are.”
She swallowed.
“On the bed.”
“What room?”
“Your room.”
“What color are the walls?”
She went quiet.
Then, “Red.”
I stopped. Immediately.
“No more touch,” I said. “You did exactly right.”
I removed the blindfold first.
Her eyes opened too wide. She blinked against the light, looking at me as if she had crossed some distance and needed to make sure I was still there.
“I’m here,” I said. “I’m here, baby girl.”
Her throat moved.
I unfastened the wrist cuffs from the frame but left them around her wrists while I examined her hands. Warm. Pink. No numbness. No swelling.
“Can you feel my fingers?” I asked, touching each fingertip.
“Yes.”
“Any pain?”
“No.”
“Drink this, honey.”
I held the glass while she drank. Her hands were still cuffed, and I did not make her struggle for it.
When she finished, I set the glass down and sat beside her on the bed.
“What needs to change?”
She stared at the ceiling.
“I think I need to see you.”
“While tied?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Her eyes found mine.
“Because I know you’re there, but I need to actually see you.”
“All right.”
I brushed my knuckles over her cheek.
“Thank you for using your safeword. I know it’s difficult. You were so brave.”
“Brave?”
“Of course, my special one. You told me before it became too much.”
“I did.”
“That is good judgment. That is trust.”
Her eyes filled, but the tears did not fall. They only brightened her pale gaze.
“You’re not disappointed?”
“Disappointed?” I leaned closer. “Little one, I am proud of you.”
That broke something soft open across her face.
I kissed her forehead.
“You do not endure discomfort for my approval,” I said. “You do not have to prove you can take whatever I give you. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Do you want to continue?”
She looked at me for a long moment.
Then she nodded.
“I do,” she said.
I refastened the cuffs to the frame. One at a time. With her watching every movement.
“Comfortable?”
“Yes.”
I settled between her thighs. This time she watched my face as I touched her. No blindfold. No hiding.
My mouth moved over her slowly. My fingers entered her with a gentle, patient rhythm. Her eyes stayed on mine even when her breathing began to break.
I did not look away.
“Daddy,” she whispered.
“Yes?”
“Please may I come?”
I held her gaze.
“You may.”
My mouth and hand remained steady.
Her orgasm moved through her in hard waves. Her body arched. Her fingers curled. Her eyes never left mine.
She cried my name once.
Then Daddy, again and again, as if the word itself carried her through.
She lay beneath me, breathing hard.
I waited until her body stopped shaking before I touched the cuff at her left wrist.
“Do you want one hand free?” I asked.
“Yes please, Daddy.”
“And the other?”
Her gaze went to the remaining cuff.
“Leave it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
I released her left wrist. She lowered her arm slowly, working feeling back into it. Then she reached for me. Her fingers caught my shirt.
“Undress.”
The command was weak. Still a command.
I smiled. “You’re very demanding after an orgasm.”
“I think you’ll find that I am always demanding.”
I grinned. “That is true.”
I stood beside the bed and removed my shirt. Then my belt. My trousers. She watched every movement with open hunger.
When I was naked, I climbed back onto the mattress and let her touch me.
Her free hand moved over my chest. Over my stomach. Down between us.
My cock was hard enough to ache.
Her fingers closed around me. One slow stroke. Then another.
I bent over her with my eyes shut.
“Look at me,” she said.
I did.
Her mouth curved.
“You like when I’m good.”
“I like when you are honest.”
“I was honest about wanting you.”
“You’re such a good girl.”
“So now you have to do something.”
I laughed under my breath.
She squeezed me.
My composure nearly left the room.
“I want you,” I groaned.
Her expression changed.
The teasing softened. Her eyes became clear.
“Yes, Daddy. Please.”
I positioned myself between her thighs. One hand held her free hand. The other guided my cock to her entrance.
I entered slowly.
She opened around me, warm and wet and tight enough that my breath stopped.
“Daddy,” she gasped. “You feel so good, so hard for me.”
I moved carefully at first. Deep, slow strokes. Her bound wrist rested above her head. Her free hand held mine against the pillow.
Our faces stayed close.
This was not about taking her.
It was about staying.
But Yelena had never been satisfied with gentle for long.
“Daddy.”
“Yes?”
“I want you to hold me down.”
“All right.”
“I want you to make me look at you.”
“Yes.”
Her mouth twitched.
“Please. I want you to fuck me. Hard. Like you can.”
I took her free hand and pinned it lightly beside her head. My other hand closed around the silk cuff at her bound wrist, holding it above her.
“Eyes on me,” I said.
Her pupils widened.
“Yes, Daddy.”
I drove into her.
The pace changed. Not cruel. Not careless. Strong enough to make the headboard give a soft thud against the wall.
Yelena gasped. Her legs wrapped around my hips.
“Keep looking at me. Don’t you dare look away.”
She did.
Her body moved beneath mine. Every thrust pulled another broken sound from her. Her free hand gripped mine harder. Her bound wrist flexed in the silk.
“You’re so beautiful,” I said. “My brave girl.”
Her eyes brightened.
“Daddy.”
“I have you.”
Pleasure built again in her face. I knew the signs now. The shallow breaths. The tightening of her thighs. The way her body began to chase rather than receive.
She was close.
“Wait,” I said.
Her eyes flashed.
“No.”
“Wait.”
“Daddy, please.”
“You can do it, you can wait.”
Her body shook around me, desperate for release.