Time for more training, Miss Steele.
Her lips part as she inhales…she’s excited.
Gently I tug both her braids. “You look so young with these.” But they’re not going to stop me. I drop my towel. “Oh, Anastasia, what shall I do to you?” I grasp her upper arms and push her gently back on the bed, keeping hold of her so that she doesn’t fall. Once she’s prostrate, I lie down beside her, grab her fists, and raise them above her head. “Keep your hands up here, don’t move them. Understand?”
She swallows.
“Answer me.”
“I won’t move my hands,” she says, her voice husky.
“Good girl.” I can’t help my smile. She lies beside me, wrists bound, helpless. Mine.
Not quite to do with as I wish—yet—but getting there.
Leaning down, I kiss her lightly and let her know that I’ll kiss her all over.
She sighs as my lips move from the base of her ear down to the hollow at the bottom of her neck. I’m rewarded with her appreciative moan. Abruptly she lowers her arms so that they circle my neck.
No. No. No. This will not do, Miss Steele.
Glaring down at her, I place them firmly back above her head. “Don’t move your hands, or we just have to start all over again.”
“I want to touch you,” she whispers.
“I know.” But you can’t. “Keep your hands above your head.”
Her lips are parted and her chest is heaving with each rapid breath. She’s turned on.
Good.
Cupping her chin, I start kissing my way down her body. My hand travels over her breasts, my lips in hot pursuit. With one hand on her belly, holding her in place, I pay homage to each of her nipples, sucking and nipping gently, delighting in their hardening response.
She mewls and her hips start to move.
“Keep still,” I warn against her skin. I plant kisses across her belly, where my tongue explores the taste and depth of her navel.
“Ah,” she moans and squirms.
I will have to teach her to keep still…
My teeth graze her skin. “Hmm. You are so sweet, Miss Steele.” I gently nip between her navel and pubic hair, then sit up between her legs. Grabbing both her ankles, I spread her legs wide. Like this, naked, vulnerable, she is a glorious sight to behold. Holding her left foot, I bend her knee and raise her toes to my lips, watching her face as I do. I kiss each toe, then bite the soft pad on each.
Her eyes are wide and her mouth is open, moving alternately from a small to a capital O. When I bite the pad on her little toe a little harder, her pelvis flexes and she whimpers. I run my tongue over her instep to her ankle. She scrunches her eyes closed, her head twisting from side to side, as I continue to torment her.
“Oh, please,” she begs when I suck and bite her little toe.
“All good things, Miss Steele,” I tease.
When I get to her knee, I don’t stop but continue, licking, sucking, and biting up the inside of her thigh, spreading her legs wide as I do.
She trembles, in shock, anticipating my tongue at the apex of her thighs.
Oh no…not yet, Miss Steele.
I return my attentions to her left leg, kissing and nipping from her knee up the inside of her thigh.
She tenses when I finally lie between her legs. But she keeps her arms raised.
Good girl.
Gently, I run my nose up and down her vulva.
She writhes beneath me.
I stop. She has to learn to keep still.
She raises her head to look at me.
“Do you know how intoxicating you smell, Miss Steele?” Holding her stare with my own, I push my nose into her pubic hair and breathe deeply. Her head flops back in the bed and she groans.
I blow gently up and down over her pubic hair. “I like this,” I mutter. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen pubic hair up close and personal like this. I tug it gently. “Perhaps we’ll keep this.”
Though it’s no good for wax play…
“Oh, please,” she pleads.
“Hmm, I like it when you beg me, Anastasia.”
She moans.
“Tit for tat is not my usual style, Miss Steele,” I whisper against her flesh. “But you’ve pleased me today, and you should be rewarded.” And I hold down her thighs, opening her up to my tongue, and slowly start circling her clitoris.
She cries out, her body rising off the bed.
But I don’t stop. My tongue is ruthless. Her legs stiffen, her toes pointed.
Ah, she’s close, and slowly I slip my middle finger inside her.
She’s wet.
Wet and waiting.
“Oh, baby. I love that you’re so wet for me.” I start to move my finger clockwise, stretching her. My tongue continues to torment her clitoris, over and over. She stiffens beneath me and finally cries out as her orgasm crashes through her.
Yes!
I kneel up and grab a condom. Once it’s on, slowly I ease myself into her.
Fuck, she feels good.
“How’s this?” I check.
“Fine. Good.” Her voice is hoarse.
Oh…I start to move, reveling in the feel of her around me, beneath me. Again and again, faster and faster, losing myself in this woman. I want her to come again.
I want her sated.
I want her happy.
Finally, she stiffens once more and whimpers.
“Come for me, baby,” I utter through clenched teeth, and she detonates around me.
“Thank fuck,” I cry, and let go, finding my own sweet release. Briefly I collapse on her, glorying in her softness. She moves her hands so they are around my neck, but because she’s tied she can’t touch me.
Taking a deep breath, I rest my weight on my arms and stare down at her in wonder.
“See how good we are together? If you give yourself to me, it will be so much better. Trust me, Anastasia, I can take you places you don’t even know exist.” Our foreheads touch and I close my eyes.
Please say yes.
We hear voices outside the door.
What the hell?
It’s Taylor and Grace.
“Shit! It’s my mother.”
Ana cringes as I pull out of her.
Leaping out of bed, I throw the condom in the wastepaper basket.
What the hell is my mother doing here?
Taylor has diverted her, thank heaven. Well, she’s about to get a surprise.
Ana is still prostrate on the bed. “Come on, we need to get dressed—that’s if you want to meet my mother.” I smile at Ana as I pull on my jeans. She looks adorable.
“Christian—I can’t move,” she protests, but she’s grinning, too.
Leaning down, I undo the tie and kiss her forehead.
My mother is going to be thrilled.
“Another first,” I whisper, unable to shift my grin.
“I have no clean clothes in here.”
I slip on a white T-shirt, and when I turn around she’s sitting up, hugging her knees. “Perhaps I should stay here.”
“Oh no you don’t,” I warn. “You can wear something of mine.”
I like her wearing my clothes.
Her face falls.
“Anastasia, you could be wearing a sack and you’d look lovely. Please don’t worry. I’d like you to meet my mother. Get dressed. I’ll just go and calm her down. I’ll expect you in that room in five minutes, otherwise I’ll come and drag you out of here myself in whatever you’re wearing. My T-shirts are in this drawer. My shirts are in the closet. Help yourself.”