Page 31 of Bound and Branded

Take her. Make her mine.

Mine.

Just for now. Just in this bed.

And then I feel her shuddering beneath me, another orgasm racking her frame as she pulls tight on the bindings, trying to free herself as I continue to fuck her. That’s when I can’t denymy own pleasure any longer. I draw out my release, the climax so good it nearly takes my breath away.

I want to do more than I did last time. And I don’t question the urge. I leave her there, tied to the bed, as I go into the bathroom and cross the palatial space, turning on the deep, oval tub that sits there next to one of the windows. Then I go back into the bedroom and slowly begin to unwind her bindings.

“I…”

She doesn’t have words. That doesn’t surprise me. It was intense.

“You didn’t expect that.”

“I made dinner,” she says. “I figured that we would sit and eat.”

“You knew exactly what you were doing. Brat. You knew that if I came in and saw you naked I’d have you tied to the bed.”

“I didn’t,” she says.

I lift her up off of the bed, her naked body pressed against me. I’m still partly dressed. I didn’t bother to take everything off. I set her down next to the tub and strip my shirt, jeans, and underwear off, discarding them on the floor. Then I pick her up and haul us both into the tub.

She hums, a sweet, contented sound that I’ve never heard another person make before. I like it. I brush her hair away from her face, let her rest her head against my shoulder. She’s in subspace. Floating on a cloud. I envy her that for just a moment. But watching her experience it is better anyway. I don’t know how to be happy. Not like that. I don’t fucking know.

I lather up a washcloth and begin moving it over her curves, touching her everywhere. Absolutely everywhere. Then I discard the washcloth altogether, moving my hands over her thighs and finally through her slick folds. I toy with her there, dipping a finger in and out of her before sweeping my hands up her body and caressing her breasts. She whimpers, snuggling against me,and I know that I’m going too far. I need to let her recover. I move my thumb over her soft lips, and I let her nip me just gently.

Then when we’re done in the tub, I take her out and wrap her in a large towel, drying her off and depositing her back on the soft bed.

“What did you make for dinner?” I asked.

She looks up at me, bleary. “Roast.”

“Not the easiest thing to eat in bed,” I say.

She laughs. “I don’t think so.”

I moved to the dresser, open it up, and take out a pair of soft sweatpants and a shirt. Along with a silk robe.

She frowns. “Those are women’s clothes,” she says.

“Yes,” I say. “Sometimes I have women in this room. And sometimes they need soft clothes.”

“After you’re done fucking them?”

She’s exiting subspace and she’s getting back to herself. I told her she could ask questions, though. And I meant it. This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but why not?

“Yes, Avery. After I’m done fucking their brains out, sometimes they need something soft. You do.”

“Maybe not. Maybe I’ll stay naked.”

“You won’t,” I say.

“Why not?”

“Because I need a break, you brat.”

She seems pleased with that. And doesn’t fight me when I put the clothes on her.

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