Page 76 of A Promise For Tomorrow

“I love you,Mariposita. I’ve loved you since the first moment you gave me your blind trust.” I caress her face with my hand, giving her the reassurance she can trust me once again. “Back when I had you chained up in my dungeon, I told you that you should see yourself from my perspective. You told me it was fear you were experiencing, but we both know it wasn’t.” I saunter over to the table and retrieve my laptop. I find the file and click play, bringing the laptop close to her face.

Her nostrils flare as the memories of that night replay on the screen. It was absolutely lust.

My little liar.

The video shows her hanging from the ceiling. I circle her, knife in hand. That pretty mouth of hers bound by tape. The edge of my blade slicing through her clothing like butter. Her nipples harden and her breathing becomes labored.

We watch until the end. My hand comes down to slap the laptop shut. She jumps, rattling the chains.

“I’ve been dying to reenact that moment. And I know you have too,” I say, lust coating my throat in gravel. The black of her pupils expands as the gold threads explode around it.

I place the laptop back on the table before collecting my favorite pocket knife. Then I grab the remote for the electronic chains and hit the button to raise her a few inches off the ground. Her arms raise above her head as the chains go taut. Now she is at eye level with me.

The predator in me enjoys circling her, playing with her mind. “I thought about covering that pretty mouth with tape, but last time I made you bleed. In that moment, I vowed to never again have you bleed at my hand. So there will be no tape. Besides, I need that mouth accessible to hear you scream my name.”

“So sure of yourself…” she pants, her breasts rising and falling beneath the thin camisole she has covering her bathing suit.

The tip of my knife starts at the neckline of her shirt. With precision, I glide it through, splitting the fabric in two. When I am done, all that is left are two spaghetti straps holding the fabric around each of her arms. Pulling the material taught, I slice into both of them. The scraps of fabric sink to the floor.

Madison’s nipples harden, pressing against the purple bikini she has on. I want to run my tongue around them until she is moaning my name—but we have time for that. Instead, I slip the knife into the waistband of her mesh coverup.

The outline of her ribs shows as she sucks in a breath.

With steady hands, the knife descends, splitting the seam and recreating our first moment of heightened sexual tension.

I circle her again, guiding my other hand around her hip as I switch the handle of the knife into the other hand, running the blade up between her ass cheeks. She lays her head back to rest on my shoulder and my teeth find my new favorite spot on her.

Right over that tattoo she got for me.

Mariposita.

When my knife slices through the remaining fabric, both sides slide right off her. The pants have a drawstring at the topand are flared at the bottom. It pools on the floor with the remnants of her shirt. Next to go are her bikini bottoms. Careful as ever, I line the tip of my knife just above her pubic bone. It cuts into the material with ease. Adding a bit of pressure, I lower the blade and cut through the elastic, easing off when I reach the thin nylon.

Once more, I trail the pathway between her legs, tracing the slit she has beneath the fabric. A shiver rocks her, rattling the chains above us. I lean in to kiss her and she does the same. Needing to tease her, I lean back, continuing to circle around her back.

“Asshole,” she sneers, all frustrated.

“I’ve been called worse, sweetheart.” I chuckle.

I finish off, slicing through the backside of her bottoms. The purple scraps land neatly on top of the growing pile.

My heart beats erratically against my ribcage seeing her naked from the navel down. She could be naked all hours of the day, and I would still react the same exact way.

Every. Damn. Time.

Madison De La Cruz is a goddess among us. Even more so today. Her body literally shimmers, making her appear ethereal. It’s as if she was dipped in gold, the color complementing her bronze skin perfectly.

Hard as stone, my cock strains against the confines of these board shorts. Her gaze goes right to the tent in my pants as she licks her lush lips. Lips I’d love to have wrapped around this cock right about now. But this moment isn’t about me.

It’s about her.

Leaving her dangling a few inches off the ground, I pad back over to the table behind her. She swivels her head over her shoulder trying to get a glimpse, barely able to see what I am up to. That is all part of the game I am playing with her. It heightens her senses, making this moment even more thrilling.

I collect the pliers I set out earlier. This wasn’t in my original plan… but most plans need adjustments. When I noticed at the pool she was wearing a bandeau top with a nice metal ring in the center—I had to add a new tool to my inventory.

My bare chest presses against her back as my hands come up to fondle her breasts. The ridge of my cock lines up with her ass—that she desperately tries to push against me. I pinch a hardened nipple, siphoning a beautiful moan out of her.

The hand with the plier slides up her stomach, tracing a line until it reaches the circular ring holding the two pieces of her top together. Her shimmering chest is rising and falling so rapidly, that I swear she may hyperventilate.

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