Page 30 of Bound and Branded

She’s breathing hard, shallow. I see panic in her eyes and I wonder what’s scaring her about this that didn’t frighten her yesterday.

“Safe word, Dove,” I say.

She shakes her head, her expression fierce as I slide a rope beneath her, around her ribcage, and slowly replicate the rope bodice I made for her yesterday. But this time I go tight over her tits, one strip of rope above her nipple, one below, those tight buds squeezed tight between the rope.

I loop the end down through a segment around her ribcage, down around the crease of her thigh and just over her labia, where I pull it tight so it holds her pussy open for me. She gasps, lifting her hips up, and I take the end of the rope and crack it against her clit. “Hold still.”

A broken, sharp sound rises in her throat. Pleasure. Pain.

She doesn’t say the safe word.

I repeat the same action on the other side of her body and now she’s totally open to me. Her legs tied wide, nothing hidden.

She’s wet and pink and perfect and I’m starving for her.

She arches and pulls against the restraints, and I can’t think of when I last saw anything prettier.

Avery Carmichael.

God.

She found me.

She found me on the app, and part of me is tempted to turn that into something. I’ve never done that in my life. Never romanticized a God damn thing. I’m not romantic. Farthest thing from it. But she felt like something special from the moment I first met her, and God knows this feels like part of that.

That I get to have her now, spread out in front of me like a feast. I had bigger plans. Plans to spend hours designing a rope harness for her, but I decide to forgo those plans. For now. Just for now. She’s bound just the way I want her. And there’s a limit to how much self-denial I can endure.

I join her on the bed, lying beside her and tracing her jaw with my fingertip, then putting my finger in her mouth. She bites me. Not hard. Just enough to show me her strength. Her resistance. I like it.

I withdraw my finger from her mouth and move it down her body, pinching the top and bottom rope that brackets her nipples so that it clamps down hard on both of them. She has great tits. I’ve always thought so. But they’re even better served up in front of me like this, her nipples red and ripe.

“Look at you,” I say. “I could do whatever I wanted to you.”

She bucks against the restraints, and I move my hand between her legs. She’s wet there. So wet. I push two fingers inside of her, draw that slickness out, and rub my thumb over her clit. She cries out, moves her hips away from me, and tries to draw them down into the mattress. But I’m relentless. I push a third finger inside of her as I continue to tease her slick clit with my thumb.

“You’re mine,” I say. “All mine.”

I want to devour her. And she’s spread out before me like a feast, so I might as well. I pull my fingers out of her slick pussy and suck them into my mouth, tasting her arousal.

Then I move down her body, my lips hovering above her skin. Until I close my mouth over that hard little clit, sucking it in deep.

I don’t go down on all my subs. Not because I don’t like it. The taste of a woman is one of my favorite things. But it’s a submissive posture, and a little too close to kissing, which is something else I don’t do often. In fact, I much more likely to eat a woman out than I am to kiss her on the mouth.

But having her here like this, where she can’t get away from me and I can eat my way into her for as long as I like?

That’s perfect.

I clamp my arms over the top of her stomach, clasp my fingers together, and hold her completely against my mouth. Entirely at my mercy as I lick her, thrust my tongue inside of her, and get an easy orgasm ripped from the back of her throat.

I want her mindless. I want her to lose it. I want her panting and shaking and begging. So I keep on licking her, even as she sobs. As she begs me to stop. She comes again, and I push three fingers back inside of her while I continue to lick her as her internal muscles pulse around my fingers. I stroke her slick walls until she cries out a third time, taking us both right to the edge. I’m so hard that it hurts, and I’m ready to take her.

I take a condom out of the drawer, grab hold of it and tear it open, covering myself. Yeah, we can have sex without condoms because of the way things are set up on the app, but that’s not something I do. Along with kissing.

I drive myself into her, welcoming the tight clasp of her cunt around me as I take her hard and deep. She’s held fast by the bindings, which make it easy for me to set the tempo and the pace without her interfering. Mine. All mine.

It’s easy for me to imagine, then, what it would be like to take care of her. Completely. To have her like this always, in my bed. I could pay to make all of her problems go away. She could belong to me.

I shove that thought aside as I surrender myself to the physicality of being with her. No thoughts. Just feeling. That’s all I want. I want to bury myself in this little sub until I can’t think of anything else.

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