Chapter 10

She begins to shuffle. I imagine her ankles are burning as the thick rope chafes against her skin. The knots on either ankle are tightly pressing against the bone and will not let up in pressure as on the opposite side of them lies the metal bar that runs horizontally between her legs.

She is pried open, nowhere to go, her knees bend back towards her breasts and her wrists attached with a second and third piece of rope, connected to metal loops at the ends of the bar. Her fingertips and freshly painted nails can merely tickle the skin of her ankles and feet, but as she lays on her back, her range of movement is greatly constricted.

At this moment, she knows I am back in the room. She heard the door open and close behind her— out of her range of view—and the slow, methodical footsteps that follow.

She has been a good girl. Ordering what she wants. What she likes. And now I have a range of things to test and try and learn at my fingertips. But first I needed to see her like this. She gave me a quick tuition on knots and then as I tied her, I kept her blindfolded. I was slow and methodical, not letting my mind take in the sight of her. I just focused on one knot at a time.

Then I left, going to the bar to pour myself a drink so I could compose myself, prepare and detach so I could see her like this with fresh eyes.

She slowly moves her limbs, testing at her restraints to see how much give she can have and how much she can move, and the truth is it's not much. Her legs are spread wide and her neatly waxed vulva is obscenely open, inviting me to look, taste, touch, fuck her. Her breasts heave with each long deep breath, and I can wait no longer.

I approach her quietly. She is lying on the floor, tied, vulnerable, ripe for the taking. The room is darkened so that it shows everything dimly. Her senses are awakened. The darkness means she can hear each movement more clearly, feel the air change as I approach. The first touch comes against her lips as her mouth is opened, her tongue flicks so she can taste my skin. And just that touch, that taste, I can tell it arouses her. I watch as her nipples harden and I feel a bolt of desire between my legs, both of us wanting more.

Her lips bend under my touch. My index finger draws a circle around the contours of her lips before sliding inside her mouth and pressing against her tongue, coaxing her to show me how she sucks. And I know she can. "Show me," I whisper.

Her lips close around my finger and her tongue swirls. Her head rises up as far as she can reach so she can bob her head back and forth to give me nice, deep, lingering sucks. Her eyes are wide and needy.

I pull my finger from her mouth sooner than she might expect, pushing against her cheek so she doesn"t have a moment to close her lips, which leaves a drop of saliva on the tip of my finger. The backs of three fingers glide down the length of her neck, her collarbone, her sternum, then the gentle curve of her breast until she feels a wet push against her nipple, just the very tip. It hardens in an instant but doesn"t get the satisfaction of a pinch.

She lets out a light whimpering moan and she hears the bar click as her body tenses with want, her thighs instinctively trying to close together. But she can"t. So, she is left there, bare, to ache. She flexes, having no control of her wetness that drips from her exposed vulva and runs down over her anus.

My finger with just a hint of wetness left moves to her other nipple. There is a cold touch, then nothing. I let a few seconds pass and then she actually gets the pinch she desperately craves. It"s slow but it"s tight, and the soft skin of her breast stretches taut as I pull her nipple away from her body, then I lean down and run the tip of my tongue across her top lip then the bottom.

Her tiny moan vibrates against my tongue as I lick, the moment she feels that touch she reaches with her mouth, opening, and sucking on my tongue. My pull on her nipple is hard, her gasp caught by my lips as she feels that sharp shock of pain.

Her vulva is leaking wetness and I know she can feel it. Warm, wet trails of her desire flow out of her and ride the contours of her lips before they sink down in between the crevice of her ass. As she rocks back and forth, her ass lifts and then I know she must feel the wetness collecting beneath her.

"You"re such a dirty girl, aren"t you?" my voice murmurs against her soft lips and my chin brushes against her cheek as I move to her earlobe. Both hands stretching down, taking handfuls of her breasts, harder now. Full grabs. Toying with her.

Each rough touch makes her body only want more and more. I can feel her nipples pressed against my palms as I squeeze hard. "Fuck, I want you," I groan into her ear. And her pussy shows how she reacts to my claim. Her body rocking with a need to have just any touch against her most sensitive part. Desperate to feel me against her, inside her.

"Please," she begs softly with a whimpering moan.

My hands knead her firm breasts, squeezing them fluidly but roughly. Leaving them and stretching forward, my fingers leading the way, pressing against her belly, eventually raking over her hip bones and then pressing to her inner thighs on the stretched tendon on either side. I know she can feel herself open further for me.

Then she can feel something else. The light touch of my inner thigh as it rests against her cheek, the underside of my vulva skimming against her lips. "Show me what you love."

Her lips fall open and her head tilts back. Her tongue chases through my folds, lapping up against me before she takes a long exhale than a suck inward into her mouth. She sucks on me, slowly but with a loud need, her ass tilts up, her pussy angled towards me, and she flexes, again and again. She wants me so badly and it is the biggest turn on I can imagine.

"Fuck..." she moans against me as she sucks and licks harder. Faster. Showing me with her mouth how much she needs me to touch her. Begging with her lips as she pleasures me over and over again.

One knee bends as I kneel on the other, dipping myself against her mouth and letting her have me. I dip my hips like I"m testing her out, letting her practice. Perfecting her technique. Impress me, my body is telling her, and she steps up to the challenge.

But my hands show her my satisfaction and let her know how I"m impressed with her,. My fingers span outwards in star patterns touching her between her legs. My hands dance over her teasingly. My index fingers skim along her labia, pulling them open so she feels her most vulnerable to me.

"Fuck." I can't help but think she"s so very beautiful when she"s this slutty for me. More. I want more.

She tilts her head back further, so her crown rests on the floor. Her throat stretched out. And she keeps licking me as though she is starving and the taste of me is the only thing that will sate her hunger.

My fingers pinch her folds together, rubbing them against each other; I'm teasing her and I like it.

Before pulling away from her, my finger gives the quickest of swipes against her clit ...but hard. So, she feels it.

She moans loudly.

I stand and walk around her positioning myself between her legs.

"Jesus," she moans as I watch her body. "Fuck, I need more," she pleads and I can't resist her.

My fingers return to her body, along with my mouth. I pull her open again and begin to lick her with long and slow strokes from her anus, up to her clitoris, pausing occasionally to push my tongue inside her as far as is possible to go.

"I can"t take it. I need you. I need to feel you in me. Fuck me. Please fuck me," she begs with a wanton desperation in her voice.

"So, it's my fingers you want? Inside you? Is that what you want? What do you deserve?" I respond as I tap my fingers against her opening as I tease her. "Like this?" And I push my long fingers against her, as though I'm going to enter her, and then I stop and she cries out at the interruption.

"No." I step back for a second. I take my time admiring her. I really admire every single inch of her. From her roped wrists and ankles, to heaving flushed breasts and sweat glistening skin—she is delicious. My fingers close around a toy, a glass dildo. It is cold and the curve is smooth. I know the first touch will be a shock until the glass warms to her body heat.

"Fuck… Yes." Her hands bunch into fists and she moans so fucking loud as I thrust the cold, hard glass into her. She is so wet and it is so smooth, it slides in easily and her body arches and she moans as she accepts it.

I reach up a hand and use my thumb to press against the knot of rope that is tight against her ankle bone. Every thrust and the rope rubs her skin there. She can feel the bind around her wrists that are tied to her ankles as well, and if she reached out with her painted nails, she could just barely rub her fingers against my thumb if she wanted. All this as I fuck her with long strokes. Pounding her, claiming her as mine to toy with. Mine to devour. Mine to fuck.

I don"t think she has much but what little control she does have is lost. She cries out, screaming with pure need and pleasure every time I thrust the hard glass toy into her. Her ankles and wrists burn with every writhe of her body. Of course she tries to reach for me. She is desperate for any touch. But she's helpless.

I can see her body beginning to tense, her orgasm is coming. It"s there; I can see it written all over her body, and then I hear her voice, no more than a whisper, "Can I come? Please, please can I come?"

I lean forward and touch my thumb to her clitoris while I continue to thrust with the dildo. "Come for me. Come for me like a good girl," I command. And just as her orgasm crashes over her, I pull the dildo from her and press my tongue against her clitoris. I want to taste her. Her climax erupts everywhere and I lose myself in the taste of her and the sweet sweet sound of her pleasure.

I need my own orgasm and I reach to my own clitoris with the fingers of my right hand. I'm soaking wet and my clitoris is more responsive than I have ever known it.

My orgasm comes quick and hard and I moan into it as it shudders through me. I'm lost in the sensation, feeling it ripple through me until I hear her, begging, "Let me taste. Please." I make her stretch her tongue out and beg before I give her my fingers to suck on.

I lean down so I can suck and mark her neck, something primal within me desperately wants to mark her flesh as mine. "My good girl," I say before my teeth bite her flesh.

I move to her mouth. It takes seconds, or minutes, maybe hours, to stop kissing her. Once I finally come back to my senses, I untie her slowly. Adoringly. Massaging her hands and feet lightly with my thumbs as I slip the rope knots undone and free her from her binds.

"Are you ok?"I ask her gently and she nods.

She looks fragile, but content. "So much more than ok." she murmurs and looks at me with warmth in her gaze.

She moves her hands slowly, testing them out, feeling the blood flow again. I know she must ache and be sore. The marks are there on her body, but they are minimal. Nothing I have done was intended to cause pain or damage to her in any way, merely to add to the feeling of restraint and control.

She looks up at me with those wide green thick lashed Dahlia eyes and I melt. My heart explodes and I scoop her up into my arms. I pull her tight against my chest so she can feel her skin against mine as I carry her into the bathroom.

I hold her as the tub fills, the water hot and steaming, shimmering vapes of coconut heaven filling the room. At first, we don't speak, not with words anyway. Just touches and looks, having spent so long tied, her fingers are now in overtime. They touch me everywhere. Lightly, softly, as though I will vanish from her at any moment.

But I won't. I am not going anywhere.

I overfill the bath but I don't care; I want every inch of her covered and soothed. I lower her in gently. I watch her soft skin sink below the bubbles. She tenses a little. I feel the heat of the water on my arms, and I know it is hot, but not too hot, it will take a minute for her to adjust.

And then her smile spreads and her eyes close as she relaxes in her soapy bliss. I move around a little, opening the cabinet under the sink until I find a new flannel. I add some expensive looking liquid soap and make my way to the bottom of the bath.

I adoringly wash every single inch of her beautiful body. I take tender loving care of her wrists and her ankles to make sure that I don't irritate her skin, I need to soothe it. My hands work their way up and down her legs with the soft flannel, each time she raises them up, steam curls from her freshly pinked skin. I could eat her.

But my touches are not sexual. Even as the flannel glides between her legs and up and over her breasts, the movements are slow and with care. I want her, of course, I want her, but I need her to feel my attention for something more than just sex. I need to caress her with my love for her. This is the part of BDSM that so many don't understand. This time of aftercare only strengthens our bond and our connection, cementing the trust between us so we have a solid foundation to build off each time. I need her trust; I need her to have total faith that I will take care of her even when she is at her most vulnerable.

My mind begins to wander again to what we have. To all that we could maybe be, but my grandmother's words from before ring truer than ever.

The moment we are in is all we ever have. So, I throw myself into that with all the love that I have and hope that it will be enough to show Dahlia all we could be.