Page 86 of Sombra
“Okay?” He’s looking in my eyes, searching, making sure I’m not freaking out.
I’m so into this, he has no idea. It’s risky and naughty and fun. “Okay,” I whisper.
Taking the other pair of handcuffs, he repeats the action, securing an end to my left wrist and letting the other side of that one hang down as well. Then he guides me with the pressure of his hand on my lower back to the waist-high table at the foot of his bed. He’s placed a pillow on it—I hadn’t noticed it before—and he points to it. “Bend over this, amor.”
Now my pulse and my stomachare really going. I know I said I trust him, and I do, but what is this? What’s he going to do?
“You can always stop,” he whispers.
“It’s okay.” I’m not trembling, am I?
“Then come here. Bend over this.”
I lean down and press my breasts to the pillow, my ass bent over and sticking out for him, one-half of each set of handcuffs hanging off me. He takes one wrist andconnects the other end of the handcuff to the iron bed and repeats on the other side. My arms are now spread wide. Grabbing other pillows from his bed, he wedges them under me so that I’m supported and comfortable except that my ass is exposed.
As he walks by, he gives it a swat. I yip.
“Silencio.”
My head nods assent into the pillow. I turn my head to the side so I can seehim in the candlelight.
Standing behind me a moment, he pauses, and then slaps my other butt cheek, hard enough to sting. It feels good. Strange that a little slap would feel good, but it’s in an area where I have padding, and it doesn’t hurt. It just makes mefeel. As he keeps doing it, I find myself loving the sound, too. It’s amazing. Sexual. Sensual. He slaps the low part of my cheek,where there’s no fabric. The sound of skin slapping on skin on the most intimate part of me. Even while he’s still fully dressed.
Wetness seeps between my legs. I strain against the handcuffs, but that makes me claustrophobic, so I relax and let him do this. I let out a breath.
I’m loving the attention.
Kneeling behind me, he puts his strong hands on my ankles, and then slowlybrings them up my legs until he reaches my pink undies.
“Let’s take these off.” With a finger on either side, he peels them off my body. I step out of them, and he gets a good look. “You’re bare.”
“I showered. I shaved.”
“Joder. I need to taste you. I will. But first.” He stands, pads away, and returns. While he’s gone, I’m wondering what he’s getting. It could be anythingfrom a whip to whipped cream. “Your skin is burning, Kim. Are you okay?”
“I’m just fucking turned on, Tavo. I need you to move.”
He chuckles. “I think you like the pause. I think that’s what your dream on the white fur means.”
I don’t answer.
“Suck on this.” He holds an ice cube against my lips, and I take it in my mouth. The cold feels refreshing, and I drool a little,the water dripping down my jaw. The warm room with candles and Tavo made me decompress, but this wakes me up immediately.
He pulls the ice cube out of my mouth and draws it along my jaw. Then traces it in a winding pattern down my back until he gets to my ass. And he presses it between my ass cheeks and down into my pussy.
I don’t think I’ve ever used the word pussy before.
The cold only makes me hotter. The wet only makes me wetter. The waiting only makes my desire come alive.
I’ve never been more vulnerable than I am right now with him touching every part of me and me unable to move—but I’ve never felt more wanted. It’s messing with my head, being restrained like this for his viewing, and I think that’s the point—this is what ceding control looks like whenit’s done voluntarily. I want him to read my body, which is what he wants as well. It’s the ultimate exercise in trust, but I realize he’s trusting me, too. By showing me what he does behind closed doors, he’s showing me his shadow side, the part he’d never admit in Bar Marueco surrounded by his friends. It’s something he’d never discuss with anyone else close to him, but it’s part of him nonetheless.
And I fall for him even more. It’s not logical, but I adore that he’s doing this. That he’s showing me himself. That he’s restraining me and spanking me.
He smacks my butt, and I feel and hear his hand hitting my ass again.Slap. I gasp. Again.Slap. It stings. The other side.Crack. I wince and recover. The pain is minor, and the pleasure so much more. Each time, my flesh reverberateslike the waves that form when a stone’s thrown in a pond. I’m wiggling. I’m now testing the limits. Straining on the handcuffs. I’d succumbed to them before, but now I’m pulling on them.
Do I want out?
His breath meets my back and what was once an ice cube is now his tongue.
