Page 46 of Forbidden Fruit

He starts with my left leg, tying the back of my thigh to my calf before coming back up and creating intricate knots at the apex of my thighs that rest on each side of my pussy. His deft fingers are so close to where I’m wet and aching, the barely there touch absolute torture, and I clamp my lips tightly shut to suppress a moan.

It’s the smallest twitch of his mouth, but I’m watching Lino so closely, I don’t miss it. His fingers keep grazing against where I’m leaving a wet spot on my shorts and I can read the satisfaction on his handsome face. His clear grey eyes behind the glasses land on mine and don’t leave as he binds my right leg.

I observe him, but this time, I don’t get lost in him. I watch and search. His shoulders are tilted back with what looks like pride. His brow has softened and holds something akin to relief, a sentiment my whole body echoes.

Despite the heat of this moment, my desperation so thick I can taste it, Lino’s touch anchors me to the here and now. Myerratic heartbeat is only a result of the current of tension and electricity between us, but anxiety is a feeling of the past.

When I’m all tied up, my wrists pinned to my thighs, legs open and pussy dripping, Lino rests on his haunches. He admires his work, a hint of awe glinting in the irises that have turned the colour of a stormy sky at sea, holding years of secret and history.

“How are you feeling? Any numbness?” he asks softly.

“No. I feel… free,” I giggle and Lino grins. His smile could light up the world if only he’d let it show. It makes me smile even wider, taking him in, so carefree and peaceful, on his knees in front of me. I might be the one bound by ropes with no way to escape, but we share that thread.

He leans forward and kisses my temple before whispering in my ear, “Good. Now, beg me to take care of that aching little pussy.”

I whine and bite my lip. “Oh,please, Daddy.”

Neither of us comment on what we’ve called each other every time we’ve let our inhibitions drop. It feels natural, genuine, and I know with how much his cock strains against his pants that he loves it.

“Goddamn,zitella,” he swears under his breath.

Lino glides a finger over the fabric of my shorts and my face flushes with how wet I feel. Even if I wanted to hide my reaction, I wouldn’t be able to.

“Oh, baby. Is this all for me? Did you get all wet when Daddy tied you up like his perfect little doll?”

“Yes,” I breathe.

His touch is too soft and I whine again, trying to move my hips and seeking fiction but getting nothing. His laughter is dark when it reaches my ears. “You look so pretty when you’re needy and writhing. Will you beg me to make you come?”

“Anything for you, Daddy, just please touch me.”

“Iamtouching you,” he counters playfully.

“More,” I beg. I don’t even care how that sounds. I need his fingers on me, inside me. I need anything he’s willing to give.

Lino stands up abruptly, but I don’t have time to feel disappointment. With one hand on the ropes at my lower stomach, he lifts me up. His forearm bunch, muscles swelling and straining. For a second, I’m suspended in the air and it’s the most liberating feeling I’ve ever experienced. I’m not in this space, yet I’m fully conscious of where the ropes bite into my skin. I feel floaty and grounded all at once.

And then my back hits the sofa.

Now I know why he bound me like he did. My legs are held wide open, the ropes doing the work for me. My fabric-covered pussy is fully exposed to Lino as he lowers back down to his knees and caresses the back of my legs. With control, he moves the fabric of my shorts aside and opens me up with two fingers. “Such a pretty sight,zitella. You have no clue how much I’m starving for your cum.” And then, his head lowers and his tongue swipes at my cunt from entrance to clit in a lavish stroke that has me seeing stars. He groans against my pussy. “You taste so good,zitella.”

I’ve received oral before, but this is a man making a proper meal out of me. This is someone desperate to taste me. His hands reach under my ass and lift me up to his mouth. His tongue enters me and I cry out. “Oh God, Daddy!”

Lino lifts his head and replaces his tongue with his thumb, never stopping the maddening little circles and figure eights.

“That’s it, get loud for me. No one can hear you but me.”

His encouragement fuels my need. My entire skin buzzes as my orgasm inches closer to the surface.

Lino gathers saliva at the tip of his tongue and I watch, riveted, as he spits on my clit. Wetness pools between my asscheeks until I soak the couch underneath us. Lino’s tongue is back on me and swirls at my swollen clit.

“More, more, more,” I chant. “Please, Daddy, give me your fingers.”

I don’t know where the confidence comes from. Maybe it’s from the utter desire for the man between my thighs, the feeling of being everything he needs at this moment. Without delay, a thick digit enters me and I climax, my walls clenching around him, my whole body spasming with the strength of my release.

Lino keeps his finger inside me and inserts another, the come hither movement prolonging my orgasm for what feels like eternity.

I float. I let go.

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