As I set my bag down in his bedroom, he closes the door quickly behind us, which is a first for him. I spin around to question the act, but am unable to speak as he pushes me onto the bed. He kisses me passionately, like he hasn't seen me in years. His hands slide up my arms and grab my wrists, pulling them above my head and holding them there. He presses his body against mine, desperately trying to have every inch of us touching. He kisses me expertly, and I savor every second of his mouth on mine.
He pulls his lips away and smiles. "I missed you."
"I can tell." I let out a small laugh. I try to move my hand to brush my hair out of my face, but he holds my arms firmly in place. I shake my head instead.
He kisses my cheek, then continues over to the edge of my jaw, then up to my ear. He nibbles on my lobe and chuckles softly. Fuck, that laugh makes me melt. I make a quiet noise and squirm under his grip. He doesn't budge.
"Trying to go somewhere, are we?" He says in a soft tone, still close to my ear. I shake my head. He chuckles again. "Good girl." He nibbles my ear once more and then pulls away. He looks at me, still holding my wrists.
"God, you're stunning." He says.
"You haven't even taken my clothes off yet." I say back.
"I don't have to, to know that you're stunning." He responds. "Your lips are intoxicating, your skin is so warm and inviting, you're beautiful... You're just stunning."
I blush but say nothing back. I don't have a good retort to his compliments, but I bask in the praise he's given me.
"But just because I don't have to do that to know that you're stunning, doesn't mean that I don't want to." He says with a smirk. "'Cause I really, really want to."
"Well if you're so desperate, then hurry up." I say boldly.
I get exactly what I was hoping for when he grabs my face with one hand and readjusts his grip on my wrists with the other.
"Do you wanna say that again?" His voice is soft but the tone is dangerous.
"If you're desperate, then. Hurry. Up." As I speak, his grip on my cheeks gets tighter. Then suddenly, he lets go.
"Well, it's a good thing I'm not desperate." He says, getting off of me.
I pout. "Heyyyyyy!" I whine.
He walks to the door. "What is it, sweetheart?"
"Stop it! That's not fair." I glare at him.
He turns back towards me. "What's not fair? That I kissed you and complimented you and then you insulted me? I'd say that's not very fair."
"I- well that's- um..." I stutter.
"Hmm?" He questions, stepping closer.
"You were teasing me." I say pathetically. I know my argument holds no weight.
"Well that's got nothing on what I'm going to do now." He says, laying down on the bed next to me. "Get up. Take your clothes off."
I look at him. "Uh... what?"
He glances at me. "Get. Up. Take. Your. Clothes. Off. Do I make myself clear?"
I nod, and stand.
"Do I make myself clear?" He asks, a little louder.
"Y-yes." I stutter.
"Yes, who?" He asks.
I pause for a second. "Yes, sir."
He nods. "Good girl."
I take a deep breath and slip off my shirt. He makes no remark as I take off my pants, nor when I take off my bra and underwear. I stand there, awaiting his approval.
But instead of the praise I normally hear, he quietly gets off the bed. "Now lay down." He says. I do so.
He goes to my bag and grabs the rope out of it. As he unwraps it, I realize that I'm disappointed he hasn't said anything else about my body. I crave his approval. It turns me on so much to know that he's turned on and that I'm the reason why. But the lack of validation is frustrating to me.
He can read me well, and as he begins to tie my hands to the hard point in the wall, he asks kindly, "What's wrong, sweetheart?"
I shrug. "I don't know... I just... you didn't say anything while I was getting naked for you. Usually you give me affirmations or at least moan and say that I'm hot. I don't understand why you didn't this time."
He smirks, finishing the touches on his knots. "Oh, but wouldn't that seem desperate to you?"
I regret my words now.
"We're doing this my way now, sweetheart. Nice and slow. Wouldn't want you to think I'm desperate." He caresses my cheek in his hand and gently rubs his thumb against my bottom lip.
"Y-you're not desperate." I try to convince him, but he's not having it.
"No, no, you seem to think that I might be. And I certainly can't have you believing something like that, can I?" He says, continuing to rub his thumb against my lip.
"I-I-" I begin to attempt to change his mind, but suddenly his thumb is in my mouth. I instinctively take it and begin to suck and lick it. He lets out the quietest groan, clearly doing his best not to give me the satisfaction of letting me know I'm doing a good job. I move my head back and forth on his thumb, sliding my tongue up and down the digit. As he takes it out of my mouth, I softly nibble the very end of it. I see him tense, but he doesn't make another sound.
"Good girl." He says stoically.
"Thank you, sir." I say.
"Now I'm going to have my way with you. Your sassiness will get you nowhere. If you want something, beg." His lips are up close to my ear again, and when he's done speaking, his tongue trails down to my lobe.
I whimper quietly. "That's not fair..."
He grabs my face roughly. "That's unfortunate. I don't care. You're mine. You do what I say. Got that?"
"Yes, sir." I mumble.
"Look at me." His tone is stern, my cheeks still in his grasp.
My eyes struggle to meet his. Eye contact was never my strong suit.
"I want you to look at me." He repeats. I take a deep breath and manage to meet his gaze.
"Say it louder. Say it clearly. Understood?" His eyes are intense. I blink quickly.
