Dressed to the nines, the two of you had walked into the exquisite, candle-lit restaurant, every step feeling like something out of a movie. Your lover was immaculate as ever- gold Versace cufflinks glinting in the dim light, an equally elegant watch, expensive and heavy, wrapped around his wrist, his handsome undershirt peeking out from the neckline of his perfectly tailored suit. As always, everything he did was intentional. His get-up oozed both quality and cost, each detail a subtle signature on the work of art that was him.
Of course, you had chosen a gorgeous dress that evening too, one that made you feel like you belonged in his little bubble of almost grandiose class and glamour.
You had been seated across from him, indulging in a meal that was almost an afterthought to the way his gaze lingered on you- warm, affectionate and unhurried. Somewhere between the main course and your third glass of wine, he lifted your hand to his lips, and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles that lingered long enough to feel like a promise.
"My sweet kitten"
The words had left his lips in a voice softer and sweeter than it normally did in other contexts. The tone that word normally came with- salacious and wanton, had been replaced with something far more delicate. Soft, reverent, fond- a gentleness reserved for that moment alone.
He had reached into the breast pocket of his suit and pulled out a gold diamond ring adorned in a black velvet box, slipping it onto your ring finger without fanfare, but with a look that made it clear what he wanted to convey. It wasn't a proposal, but a promise. Unspoken but understood.
By the time dessert had arrived at the table- which he had ordered for you without asking- it was impossible not to wonder if he was laying on the charm a little more than usual. Was he buttering you up for something? Maybe. Did you care? Not really. You wanted whatever he had in store for you. He always knew how to take care of you.
He paid the bill, every movement confident and self-assured, and he looked up at you with a sweet suave smile. You could not deny the thrill of feeling as if his world revolved around you, even if only for tonight.
That was how you ended up where you were now, bare knees against the slightly scratchy fabric of the Persian rug on the floor of his master suite. Of course, he was still fully clothed, down to the cufflinks. A stark contrast to your outfit- or lack thereof. You were on your knees, fully naked on his bedroom floor. You looked up at him through heavy lashes, your hands balled into fists, resting on your knees obediently. His deep brown eyes met yours with a glint that said, "Look, but do not touch. Yet."
A strong, steady hand cupped your jaw as he looked down at you, the pad of his thumb caressing your skin. He didn't need to speak. His actions and his eyes were a silent communication of the dynamic that was to be. The exchange of power was a familiar jive the two of you often danced, and your mind craved the feeling of letting go and trusting yourself to him. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth and nodded your consent.
The corner of his lips twitched into a soft smile as he stepped behind you, the hand that was on your face drifting to rest atop of your shoulder. With slow, patient movement, he spread his open palm against your upper back between your shoulder blades, and gently pushed you downwards, encouraging you into an arch for him. His hand against your back anchored you to the rug, the carpet tickling the skin of your cheek.
You felt yourself begin to slip into that obedient headspace where you could just let go as all of you was bared before him. He crouched down beside you, the expensive black leather of his shoes in the corner of your vision a comforting reminder of your lover's presence. You were broken from your daze by the pleasurable tickle of the tip of his finger tracing a circle around the rim of your less ladylike hole- the sensation of his slick, slightly cold lubed finger pushing past the sensitive ring of muscle drawing a whimper deep from your chest.
He took your noises as encouragement, gently thrusting his finger in and out of you for a few brief moments before adding another. You whined and moaned softly, not daring to speak yet, just taking what he was giving you. Drool began to gather under your tongue as you savoured the feeling of him stretching your tighter hole, his fingers spreading and scissoring with lewd squelches as he prepped you. Hot, heavy pleasure heaped in your abdomen, building with each little jolt of electric heat he gave you. His spare hand had a firm grasp on your asscheek, holding you open to allow you to be more comfortable, his thumb gently rubbing soothing circles into the skin of the small of your back.
He slowly withdrew his fingers, drawing a whine from you, only for it to be interrupted with a squeak as you felt the unfamiliar sensation of cool metal probing at your asshole.
"W-What?" You questioned him through your foggy daze of pleasure.
"Ssshh. It's ok, we talked about this, kitten. Remember?" He purred.
Oh. You did remember. You remembered opening the wrapped box last week, expecting a piece of jewellery or some lingerie. But instead, it was a pretty, shiny gold plug, connected to a fluffy, soft black tail. Who knew a man of such class could be capable of such filthy gifts? Only you, of course.
You sucked in a breath and exhaled deeply, relaxing for him before nodding against the carpet.
"Good girl."
Gently, he pressed the tip of the plug against your ready hole, and, thankfully, it slipped in in its entirety without too much resistance. You breathed out shakily, moaning softly at the fullness.
