He was on top of me. His voice was wooing me with the soft sounds of evil. Silky words of dominance whispered in gentle tones of control. His voice taunted me in a deceptively dulcet array.
“You are my little whore. I will do whatever I want with you.” His teeth grazed my nipple. I was sure the pain and sting were next. Then his tongue swirled the tip. Soft and gentle… agonizing.
“You are mine.” His weight pushed me into the bed, I was trapped.
“Yes.” I whisper as his hand wraps around my neck.
“I didn’t ask you. You don’t have a choice.” His grip tightens as his lips tease mine with tortuous tenderness. They trail down my chin to my neck. He poises himself over the most vulnerable part of me, the curve of the neck right below my chin. He knows how this terrifies and excites me in tandem. His mouth assaults me there. I pant and struggle under his power. It is utterly useless, I’m immobilized.
“Breathe, my Love.” He hears me struggle.
His grip on me relaxes slightly as his words drip from my neck, “You excite me. My muse, my biographical Goddess extraordinaire, your words turn me on and set me on fire. ” His other hand caresses my breast as he leans back to look down on me. I was in the throes of his dominion. My neck arching back, I can’t help but expose myself to him this way. My eyes fixed on his face now that he was above me. The look he gave me was deep in the darkness of our connection. I felt his hand on my breast, caressing, taunting, soft and slow. I knew by his downward glances that breast torture was on his mind. I gasped each time he looked down. The achingly gentle circles his fingers drew on my nipple were a dichotomy. Any moment, I knew his hand would pull back and slap me.
He lifted up between my legs and positioned his cock in my crease. I moaned aloud to have him inside me finally. He was making me crazy with his dominance and his silken words. His lips settled on my breast again with deliberate, hot, lusty caresses. The absence of the wicked stings he levels on my breasts when in this mood was throwing me off. I didn’t know what to expect. The sultry, measured lovemaking he was delivering to my breasts was at odds to the tormenting grip on my neck and the hard thrusting of his hips as he spread me wide with his cock.
“I can’t get enough of you. You’re my little slut and I will have you.” The waves of pleasure his body was eliciting were sending me into another place, a place where only his voice and his grip on me resided.
“Wrap your legs around my ass.” I put my legs around him, holding on with the tattered vestiges of my control. He thrust deep and continued to thrust to the hilt until he came in a shaking, wild orgasm. My body accepted all that he had to give as his hand released my neck and his touch and motion eased.
He asked me if I was okay as I cleaned us up and curled into his arms. “I kept expecting you to torture me but you didn’t.” I said as he kissed me gently.
“I know. That was the point. But you liked the gentle caresses, didn’t you?” I purred my assent.
“That’s what I call Scenario 47.” I had to laugh, knowing I would write about it soon and there was my title.
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