I sip my water and stare at you. Unconscious, you are tied down to the bed, and I am taking a moment to revel in my audacity. Taking another sip while watching you jerk in your sleep, dead to the world, this is how I managed to bind your arms and legs to the bed in the first place. If you were awake right now, you would growl, and holler, and entice me to behave by cooing out your sobriquet. In this moment, I will have none of it. Though I may look calm, the water I drink is merely so that I last and don't pass out before I am finished.
One final swallow and the glass is set down on the nightstand, I lean over the bed to lightly trail my fingers over your chest. Your power beneath my fingertips has the ability to both make me weak and embolden me to strip it from you. I drag my nails over your chest, the shock of it wakes you up, but by the time you clear the sleep from your eyes and realize that you are bound, I am already at the end of the bed, to forestall any complaints or questions from you, I lean over and place one small kiss on the tops of your feet. It may well be the only moment of submission that you get from me. But it is enough, though I can sense the weariness through your form. It's all those hours at work, the ones that have made you so tired and me, so insatiable.
Crawling onto the bed and drag my nails up your leg while listening to the sweet hiss of your breath. Then leaning down I run my tongue over these new red welts that grace the sensitive skin of your thighs, feeling the heat from them. My tight red curls tickle your skin as I move, and I can feel you shudder beneath me.
I cannot help but drag my tongue up your thigh and over your hip bone, diligently avoiding the one area I know you want me to touch, its own aching neediness jumping at my nearness. But ignore it I do, sinking my teeth into the relative softness of your belly, hearing your groan. I decide to leave a mark there, sucking gently so that the red spot will remain even when I am finished with you. My skin slides over yours as I move up your chest alternating between my nails striking at you, leaving designs in red, or my tongue whose wetness only leaves a tingle before it's gone. We are pressed together for but a minute, your heaving chest music to my ears.
Watching as your tongue slides along your lips, I don't even kiss you, and hurriedly move my body over yours. Placing a knee on either side of your head, one hand reaches for your hair, the other the headboard to hold myself up against the power that your mouth holds over my body.
That first sweet, tentative, lick frees me, and I hear my inhibitions whisper goodbye in my ear. My fingers pull at you, and my hips push lower to bring me closer, to pull you deeper. Feeling our combined wetness, I moan softly. You're fully awake now, and starving, and press yourself up into me as much as is possible. My hips buck over your tongue and the pressure to my clit sends a gasp trailing out of my mouth. I toss my head back and moan deeply, my hair sliding out of my eyes, only to cover my face again when I look down, I can feel every lick and nibble, the soft grate of your tongue over my clit, the full kiss you deliver to me. It makes me weak, and I am glad for the wall. Every touch from you, elicits another sound from me in our little game. Moaning, gasping, mewling, these sounds are almost foreign to my ears, though they push me on, make me want more.
