Chapter Ten

Dominic

I expected dinner to be quiet. Odette was embarrassed that we heard her father yelling at her, and we were all pissed off that she had to live with that prick for so many years. Aiden guessed that she’d had a dominant when we first met her. In some ways, he was right—just not the kind we thought. Charles was much worse than I expected him to be. After she hinted at him making her shoot her own puppy, I had a feeling she may have been overreacting. After hearing the way he spoke to her and how her body recoiled as far as she could from him, I knew she wasn’t.

I wanted to know more. I desperately wanted to pry and ask her how bad it actually was. Was it just mental abuse, or did he hit her? When he left, and she couldn’t meet my eyes, I disregarded my curiosity—for now. The last thing she needed was to relive or explain anything.

To my satisfaction, dinner wasn’t quiet. There was no awkward silence or long pauses. Niko kept her distracted by making jokes about the game, and the rest of us joined in on their witty banter.

I was too excited to pay full attention, though, although they would never know it from the look on my face. I wasn’t a smiler.

Odette was mine tonight. She’d fooled around with Wyatt and slept in Niko’s bed, where they’d had their fun. I’d waited patiently, and now, it was my turn.

When she kissed me earlier, I was caught off guard, which doesn’t happen often. She was always so composed and proper; seeing her do what she wanted was refreshing. She overthinks. She was constantly straightening her posture or fixing some small strand of hair that went rogue. I didn’t want her to try around us. I wanted her to be able to relax and do whatever feels right.

That was how I wanted her tonight. I wanted to see her needy, desperate, and begging to get off. I want all her walls to come down and to take her long day out on me. She may be the one tying me up, but in no way was she going to be the one in control.

I didn’t know what she had planned or if she even had a plan. I was willing to bet she was a nervous wreck now that she actually had to tie me up and figure out what to do. Being in control wouldn’t come naturally to her. Hopefully, this would teach her something about herself.

I must keep reminding myself that while Niko, Wyatt, Aiden, and I have been practicing this dynamic for years, it was brand new to her. She didn’t know what she was into yet. She’d never even been fucked...

The rest of them thought her innocence was mouth-watering and tempting. They liked that she was a virgin; it meant that no one had tainted her. She was new, shiny, and ours to destroy.

I hated it. I thought it was annoying. It would be so much easier if she wasn’t a virgin. We were taking it slow, which wasn’t a problem, but I wasn’t patient. If I had it my way, I would have fucked her against the wall when she kissed me. I would have fucked her on the couch as Harry Potter played in the background. I would have fucked her on the counter when she stood in front of the coffee machine.

I had a long list of all the things I would have done with her, a list of all the things I wanted to do with her, but I couldn’t.

Her damn virginity keeps saving her from all the things I would do to her.

I was well aware of the difference between me and my friends. They were patient and had fun teasing her. They’d been discussing who should be the one to take her virginity when the time came. I opted out. I didn’t want to fuck her when she was still a virgin. I was anything but gentle, and I didn’t want her first time to be with me.

Being around her was constant edging. She was such a fucking tease, and she knew it. I found it impossible for me to keep my hands off her. Sometimes, it was out of lust; others, it was to remind myself that she was real.

There was always a genuine possibility that she might dislike our dynamic. She could pack up and leave at any time. I was trying not to catch real feelings for her outside of attraction. The others were quick to jump in head first, but I knew better. For my own protection, I wouldn’t allow myself to feel anything besides lust and a slight crush.

She didn’t make it easy for me, though. She was stunning; I’d never seen another woman so beautiful in my life. She was too bright for her age. In a world of youths who are dipshits, her intellect was attractive. It was hard not to adore her when she was sickeningly sweet.

Her virginity was annoying, but her innocence was not. I loved hearing her mutter things to her stuffed bears. She was so gentle—even with Cat, although he was built like a tank.

It wasn’t my place to say, but I had a feeling she might be a little. This wasn’t something I’d brought up to my friends, and I wouldn’t make that assumption out loud. If she and Reesia become friends, which I was sure they would, I think Odette may learn something about herself there, too.

It was much easier for things to be physical. Emotions terrified me more than anything. For now, at least, I’d do my best to stay grounded. One of us needed to.

I was unsure of her feelings as well. Obviously, she was attracted to us. Thus far, our relationship had been more sexual than romantic. She’d never asked ‘What are we’ or called us her boyfriends, which I was thankful for. I think she was like me: high walls and proceeding with caution.

Odette moved to stand up, capturing my attention. “I think this is my favorite dish you’ve made,” she complimented Niko on the Yakisoba he made for dinner.

He smiled, “I’ll have to make it more often.” His gaze fell to her plate, which still had a few noodles on it. “Are you getting more?” he asked, a happy gleam in his eye. For some reason, he was keen on feeding her. He’d never acted this way with any other submissive we’d had, and I found it strange.

“Yup,” she confirmed quickly.

A hint of a smirk played on my lips. This would be her third plate, and I knew for a fact she wasn’t hungry after the first two servings. I caught her looking full and slowing down halfway through her last plate.

She was stalling.

My hunch was correct; she didn’t have a plan. She was nervous and delaying the inevitable. There was no chance of her getting out of this—she must have known that. It was pathetically cute.

Before she could grab her plate, I took it. “Let me help you,” I offered.

She looked taken back as I stood with both of our plates in hand and began walking to the kitchen. She followed behind me, looking between the plate and myself. “You don’t have to do this,” she tried, fidgeting with her hands nervously.

I placed my own dish in the sink before standing at the stove. “How many more scoops are you going to stall for?” I questioned, wanting to cut to the chase. She wasn’t fooling anyone.

Her eyes darted away quickly before she looked back at me with a blush, “It’d probably be a bad idea if I lied to you and said I was still hungry, huh?” She tried to make light of being caught, but she sounded nervous.

I placed her plate in the sink and leaned against the counter. Smart girl. I was glad I’d sufficiently warned her about what lying would earn her. I wish she would lie. I thought. “Probably,” I agreed lowly, both of us knowing my answer was yes.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and softly nodded, looking like she was thinking of another excuse. I zoned in on the fullness of her blush lips, craving their taste again.

Niko was quick to tell us about her love for kissing—or ‘stupid hot oral fixation’ as he called it. I got a taste of that earlier, and he definitely wasn’t wrong. She was going to love having a cock in her mouth.

I could picture her on her knees, mouth agape, as she looked up at me with begging eyes. Her flawless mascara that covered each eyelash would be smeared and running down her face. She’d be salivating, desperate, and eager for her mouth to be filled. I’d make her kiss the tip and thank me for letting her take me into her mouth.

My cock twitched at the fantasy, and I looked away from those beautifully slutty lips.

It was clear she didn’t know how to proceed. She wasn’t going to bring it up—she was too nervous. “I’m going to go take a shower. After, I want you to meet me in my room,” I decided for her.

Her gaze shifted back up to meet my eyes. I didn’t move as I waited for her to acknowledge me. She was nervous, and I was basking in it. It brought an adrenaline that I hadn’t felt in years. I was excited for this, more than I’d ever let myself show.

A more primal part of me was expecting her to run away, scared. She wouldn’t get far if she did.

With false confidence in her big doe eyes, she slowly nodded at me, “Okay,” she agreed after several moments of thought.

Taking in her beauty for another second, I gave her an approving look. Good girl. I walked around the counter, past her, and started up the stairs.

Water droplets fell from my hair as I put on shorts after my shower. I felt refreshed, having washed the day away in a cold shower. Odette’s shower was running across the hall, and I knew she was doing the same.

Standing at the end of my bed, I looked down at the black silk sheets. Truth be told, I’d never had a woman in my bed—or even in my room, for that matter. This space was mine, and I didn’t care to share it with anyone. We typically used a spare room whenever hooking up.

If I was going to make this work, I couldn’t take her into some random empty room. I’d probably end up hurting her feelings if I insisted on doing this in her room or another room. As much as I wasn’t a fan of having people in my room, I’d make an exception for her.

My bed was made to the best of my ability; the corners were slightly wrinkled, and the pillows were dented from the months of use. The walls were painted gray, with one painting to decorate them. It was a skeleton, hand drawn with charcoal and colored pencil. I found it a few years ago while attending an anatomy event. It amazed me that someone had drawn a skeleton so accurately with mediums that weren’t easy to work with. The artwork represented the beauty of human anatomy, even the delicate movements of the hands of the artist who made it.

A soft knock at my door broke me from my thoughts. I glanced at my closed door before looking my bed over once more. Running my hand over the silk edge, I smoothed the crease of one of the corners. I didn’t know why I cared so much about the small wrinkles. My room was orderly, and there was no clutter. I suppose it was because she was always so put together; I didn’t want her to feel unwelcome here.

Opening the door, my gaze immediately zoned in on her. She undressed nicely into tiny blush shorts with a floral design and an incredibly sheer white top ending just below her ribs. The sleeves were much too long for her arms, going over the palms of her clenched fists, leaving her fingers sticking out. The collar or the shirt beautifully displayed her shoulders and collar bones, complimenting her features.

Only she could make an otherwise innocent-looking outfit alluring. The shorts were short , and her top didn’t cover much of anything with its sheerness.

I had to commend her on her ability to tease with minimal effort. There was no doubt in my mind about the reason why she wore this—both of those reasons were beckoning my eyes downward. Her nipples were hard under the thin fabric, the swell of her breast outlined a few inches above where the flimsy top ended. I only looked for a second as my eyes ran down her body.

Her legs were stunning—any model would be jealous. Long, toned, tan, and smooth, they perfectly complimented the rest of her body.

My eyes met hers after five seconds of gawking. To my surprise, she looked satisfied.

So she was feeling brave tonight? I knew she must have spent time contemplating what to wear. She chose this. Despite her nerves, she knew that sleeping wasn’t our intention—not immediately.

I stepped aside, allowing her into my room. I smirked behind her; oh, how that braveness will crumble.

Her plump ass—my favorite physical feature of hers—caught my attention like it always did. The shorts she wore covered her, although when she walked, I was able to see the slightest amount of her ass cheek.

Did she want me to spank her? I’d given her a little tap a few times—nothing compared to the hand marks I’d like to leave her with. She always seemed surprised and jumped, but she’d ask me to stop if she opposed it. So again, I ask, did she want me to spank her?

I wanted to know what she expected from tonight—not that she’d ever tell me. Even in her outfit that screamed ‘touch me,’ she was too shy to express her wants. She wasn’t good at communicating with words; her facial expressions and body language gave everything away. I understood this because I wasn’t the best at communicating either, but I could hide my other tells.

The door thudded against the frame as I closed it, making her turn to me. She stood, looking out of place in the center of my room. Her sleeves were pulled over her wrists and palms, and she fidgeted with them nervously.

I was going to make her talk. Something that Niko and Wyatt hadn’t done when they were alone with her. I wasn’t nice enough to give her that courtesy.

This relationship would never work if we couldn’t communicate. I didn’t care how uncomfortable it made her; she’d get over it. She had enough emotional intelligence to understand why it was necessary; she just needed to be pushed in the right direction.

I stood at her parallel, “Since you’re the one doing the bondage tonight, I’ll let you make the call,” I started. “Do you want to tie me up now, or would you like to have a conversation about what you think is going to happen tonight first?” I questioned.

I saw her neck turn a few shades darker, but it didn’t reach her face as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “We can talk,” she agreed, probably taking the opportunity to stall again.

Good girl. I sat on the end of my bed, gesturing for her to sit beside me. She sat down, one leg tucked under her ass and the other resting on the floor. Personal space and touch weren’t an issue for her—she was sitting close, and her knee was brushing against my thigh.

The simple knee touch made me happy. Odette was nervous, but I wasn’t making her anxious. She felt comfortable enough to be close to me, which wasn’t something I was used to.

She leaned her weight back on one arm and smiled at me, almost sarcastically. “What do you want to talk about?” Humor was her way of coping with uncomfortable situations. As long as she was open to having this conversation, she could cope how she’d like.

“What are you planning on doing after you’ve tied me up?” I asked, selfishly wanting to know.

She averted her eyes, and I saw a creeping blush again. She pierced her lips before she met my eyes, “That depends,” she raised her eyebrows at me. “Am I allowed to take your shorts off?” She asked boldly.

A smirk escaped my void expression at her forward counter-question. I thought my answer would be obvious to her. “As much as I appreciate you asking, Darling, that answer will always be yes.”

“Noted,” she laughed.

“Will yours be coming off?” I continued. This answer would tell me all I needed to know. She could use her hands, mouth, or grind on me through her shorts. She could do nothing with my dick at all and tease me for all I knew. But if her shorts were coming off too, we would end up a sticky mess—which I was sure she knew.

Her eyes stayed locked on mine like she hadn’t given this much thought. “I’m not sure,” she shrugged. “Truthfully, I don’t have a plan. I figured I’d give spontaneity a try,” she answered shyly.

There was nothing wrong with that; that was what I’d hoped for. I wanted her brain to shut off for tonight. There was only one thing that couldn’t happen tonight—unfortunately. She pretended to hate the teasing and psychological edging we’d been doing. I hoped she won’t take the opportunity to fuck herself on me.

I knew she wouldn’t, but unexpected things could happen if we got into a slippery situation. It’d be a fantastic excuse for her to end the teasing and get right to the good part. She knew the only thing delaying us was her virginity.

“I only have one rule,” I informed.

She leaned a bit closer to me, looking intrigued. She probably wasn’t expecting any kind of terms. She’d be glad to know that soon enough, she’d be naming her terms, hard and soft limits, and everything in between.

I moved in closer, her lips centimeters away from mine as I spoke my warning: “You can do whatever you’d like. But if you try to fuck yourself on me, I’ll whip your ass until it’s purple.” My words came out in a whisper, the promise of my threat unmistakable.

Her eyelashes fluttered for a moment, but her eyes stayed wide. Her bottom lip was once again caught between her teeth. She kept leaning closer to me absentmindedly. I saw that look before when she was on the couch, and my hand was under her skirt. My simple threat turned her on.

I smirked, “Now use your big girl words and tell me you understand,” I ordered. It was a sick, manipulative trick on my end, but I was going to test my theory. If there was any part of her that was a little or had a Daddy kink, I was going to do my best to trigger it. All scientists have to press boundaries and do their research to test their hypotheses. Manipulative, yet harmless.

She nodded, her eyes not moving away from my lips, “I understand,” she repeated.

Giving the poor girl what she wanted, I leaned in and brushed my lips against hers. She responded instantly, pressing her full lips greedily against mine. My hands quickly found her waist, dragging her body across the silk until her legs were fully pressed against my thighs.

Her hands were pressed down on my thigh, supporting her weight as she parted her lips for me.

My dick twitched in my shorts as I basked in her submission. Even if she hadn’t fully admitted it to herself yet, her body had. She knew who was in charge, and she liked being powerless. She was almost too good.

I couldn’t remember the last time a person complimented and heightened my dominance like she so effortlessly did. It was restorative, and I was thriving off her.

Instead of giving her what she wanted, I continued to lick and suck her parted lips in a sloppy make-out. I teased her with my tongue as she kissed me. Only licking her lips when she craved more.

My hand found its way up her side, where my thumb caressed the swell of her perky breasts through the flimsy shirt. Still keen on turning her into a mindless plaything, I decided to stop, leaving her desperate for my tongue.

Niko mentioned that she got dazed the other night, something he mistook for subspace for a moment. Her brain was already shrinking.

She took my pause as a reminder of what she was in here to do. “I don’t have anything to tie you up with,” she admitted with swollen lips.

I smirked, “I think I may have something.” I slapped her thigh quickly, earning a cute squeak from her. I reached down and pulled out a drawer underneath my bed. These were the extras; we all had a few toys in our room if needed.

This particular drawer was filled with rope, chains, restraints, and other things that could be used to incapacitate someone. “Pick,” I ordered.

She looked overwhelmed at the sight, and I knew I had made the right decision not to take her to one of the spare rooms. The cabinets in those rooms were...well stocked. This was nothing. Even vanilla people usually had the basics.

She hesitatingly reached down and grabbed a considerable metal chain link restraint that I’d never personally used or been a fan of. It wasn’t practical, but it could be used to weigh someone her size down. She struggled to lift the heavy metal, giving me an uneasy expression as she held it. “This thing is wider than my arm,” she deadpanned.

My dick was straining against my shorts, and I wasn’t as patient as I’d like to be. “Is that your choice?” I asked.

She immediately shook her head, “Definitely not,” she rushed out. She put the chain back right where she found it and reached for another restraint I’d never used.

I should have expected this choice from her. She wouldn’t pick rope, chains, or any kind of rough material. She wasn’t rough. She was silk.

She held the black silk threads up, “These?” She looked confident in her choice, but her voice came out as a question.

Silk was one of the worst things that could be used to restrain someone. It slid around and was easily torn. But I wouldn’t tell her no. After all, this was her reward. “Where do you want me?” I asked, strangely not bothered by the words leaving my lips.

I thought I would hate this, but I didn’t. I enjoyed her unsureness; her lack of knowledge of how to be the one in control was rewarding.

She pointed to the pillows, “Lay down?” She asked a question again. It was almost as if she was worried I wouldn’t approve of one of her decisions. She’d be a bad delegator.

Obliging, I moved further up the bed and lay down on my back. “My bed has small pillars built into the frame,” I explained.

With a handful of long pieces of silk, she stood up and walked over to the side of the bed. Her eyes followed my torso to my chest, arms, and hands. “Have you ever done the YMCA dance?” she asked quickly, catching me completely off guard.

As a matter of fact, I hadn’t done the dance. Just as I wasn’t a smiler, I wasn’t a dancer. “No.”

One of her eyebrows lifted up slightly in a silent judgment. Had I been missing out on something I wasn’t aware of? “Okay, we can fix that later. But for now, just make a Y,” she laughed.

I was unsure of what she meant by fix. Nothing was broken; I had no desire to flail my arms around like a fool. But if she really wanted me to, I’d humor her. I laid down and placed my arms above my head. “Do you like to dance?” I questioned.

There was little that I actually knew about her. I knew she was beautiful, intelligent, a gifted athlete, and had immense Daddy issues. Niko had bonded over food. She was playing Aiden’s psychology games and beating him. And she got along with Wyatt like they’d known each other for years. I had nothing in comparison. Maybe, just maybe, I could figure something out about her that mattered—like unlocking a passion for dance.

She worked carefully as she tied my wrists to the post on the bed. Too carefully, but I wouldn’t correct her horrible execution. I was quite gifted in Shibari; I’d been practicing for years. She shook her head, her mind clearly focused on her sloppy work. “No... I’m too clumsy for that,” she murmured.

Damn.

“Tell me something you do like,” I pushed.

Her gaze shifted to meet my eyes. She leaned her weight on one leg. “Hmm,” she thought. “Breakfast at four in the morning,” she answered before quickly moving to the other side of the bed.

Was there a place nearby for breakfast with a koi pond? She said she liked those. No, that wasn’t good enough. “Why?”

She began tying my other wrist with the flimsy piece of silk. Again, it was too loose, and the knot wasn’t tight enough to hold me. If I put any pressure on it, it’d break, and I’d be free. She was trying to be gentle, which was adorable.

When I first met her, my initial response (besides disliking her for being a student in general) was, ‘This girl wouldn’t hurt a fly.’ I thought that for many days. But after she slowly began opening up, I realized that wasn’t true.

She’d kill a fly. Then she’d give it a funeral and be plagued with guilt.

She was sweet and gentle, but it was in her genes to look out for herself. She clearly didn’t have anyone but those stuffed bears she always whispered to. She needed to be her own parent, friend, and caregiver. It was entirely possible the only love she got was from herself.

She would kill flies.

She shrugged, “It’s a peaceful time of day. No one else is awake yet. And if I’m going to be up at four in the morning anyways, there better be breakfast,” she explained.

She mentioned she had trouble sleeping and seemed to find peace in solitude. “Is that what you do when you can’t sleep?”

Odette gave the silk one last tug, “Sometimes. Although, most diners that are open twenty-four hours a day aren’t the safest places.” Her smile reached her eyes as she gestured to my bound wrists. “Ta-da! My gift to myself, all wrapped with a bow on top,” she joked.

I took note of the elegant bow she somehow made by my wrists. She made a bow but didn’t realize it was loose enough for my hands to slide through. Or that the knot was single, and I could pull one string and untie it with my fingers.

This just proved my point further; she had no idea what she was doing. It was so fucking cute, and I appreciated her trying.

With a plan set to take her out for an early breakfast, I nodded in approval at the bow. “Yes, you did an excellent job,” I complimented the bow, not the restraint.

Again, I chose my words carefully, hoping she’d have a reaction to the praise.

Just as I’d hoped, she looked smug, gently standing on her toes for a moment before she smiled.

Praise kink.

“You’ve tied me up,” I deadpanned. “Now, what will you do?” I pushed, hoping to earn another blush.

Poor Baby, trying so hard to stall. Her attempts would work on Niko, but I wasn’t as kind.

Odette pressed her lips together and widened her eyes, “For starters, you have to stop staring at me,” she rushed out.

Her request caught me off guard. “What?”

It was then that her nervousness became apparent. She was fidgeting with her hands again and struggling to meet my eyes. Now that our conversations were over and it was actually time for her to make a move, she froze.

She stood to the left of my bed, “I can’t do anything if you keep staring at me,” she admitted.

I fought a smile. “Do you expect me not to look at you?” I’d never heard such a ridiculous request. Obviously, I was going to see her naked at some point—probably shortly. Again, if I were Niko or maybe even Wyatt (depending on his mood), she’d get away with this. But she got stuck with me.

“I’m going to look at you,” I deadpanned. “With your clothes on or off, bare or clothed, I will look at you. Confident or nervous, you have all my attention. There is no room for shyness here, as adorable as it might be.”

“My looking at you is inexorable, Darling. So whatever you’re planning on doing, you’d better do it before I invite your other professors in to look at you.”

She looked stunned for several seconds after I explained my intentions. As fun as it was to make her blush and tease her, I was being truthful. Nudity should be the last of her concerns. If she was serious about being in this relationship with us, her body wouldn’t be the most vulnerable part of her that we got to see.

There was a strange gleam in her eyes that I hadn’t seen before. Finding her confidence, she inched her way closer to the bed. I tried not to let my eagerness show as one of her long legs lifted and swung over my torso. She pulled her other leg onto the bed, straddling me.

I could tell this quickly became a competition. We both knew that she was not actually the one in control here, but we were both pretending. She was trying so hard to play her role correctly. I would push her in the right direction, and she would pretend her actions were her doing and not my instruction.

The softness of her ass and the heat of her pussy against my hard dick made me want to grip her hips and make her grind against me. In fact, the only thing stopping me was my curiosity. I wanted to know what she decided to do on her own.

Odette smiled down at me, “How do I look from this angle?” She flirted.

Taking her words as an invitation to check her out, I let my eyes divulge in the beauty that was Odette. Her hair was loose, falling in gentle waves down to her waist. Her face had a youthful glow to it, showing her excitement more than she knew. Her torso was elongated, a gentle line running down the middle of her stomach that I’d never noticed before. She was an athlete, and her body was proof. Her breasts looked amazing, and the sheer fabric of her shirt showcased them in a way that a museum does art. As my gaze traveled lower, her thighs captured all my attention. They were spread, resting on either side of my hips. Where her thighs connected, left a thin piece of fabric to cover her pussy.

She was more than tempting; she was exhilarating, alluring, and irrevocably bewitching.

The charcoal skeleton was no longer my favorite work of art.

By the time my gaze met with hers, I could tell that my stare had its very own effect on her. Her lips were slightly parted, and I could feel her heartbeat pounding against my dick. And she wanted to pretend and claim that she didn’t like me looking at her.

A million different phrases came to mind when I thought about how to answer her question. But the only one I dare say aloud was, “Like my own personal art project.” A blank canvas that’d been sitting dormant for years, waiting for the right artists. I would paint her blush, like her cheeks. Black, like her hair that was begging to have a fist in it. Shades of purple for the bruises I wanted to leave on her skin. Crimson for any blood that I would spill from her delicate skin. And blue, for the tears of pleasure I wanted her to cry.

She wouldn’t be wearing that bashful smile if she only knew what my seemingly sweet words meant.

As if genuinely pleased by my words, she shook her head while trying to hide a smile before leaning down. Her face and deliciously tempting lips were millimeters from mine. She hovered over me, making me crave her lips against mine again. She tasted like pure passion, and I’d been deprived.

Keeping myself from breaking out of her pathetic restraints, I clenched my fists. I wanted to grab her face and smash her lips against mine, this time with no intent of stopping.

Finally, she ended my eternity of torture and granted me the smallest kiss. She barely brushed her lips against mine, once again reminding me of the chokehold I was trying to fight. She could have me so easily, but that wasn’t something I wanted her to know... Not yet.

Odette was a virgin temptress. Seduction came naturally, and she wore it like a shield to her emotions. Somehow, she knew exactly what she was doing without trying.

To my dismay, the combination of her lips against mine and her pussy pressing against my dick with only our shorts to separate us, I was beginning to struggle. She’d been in this room for fifteen minutes, and all I’d gotten from her were two small kisses. Maybe she did have a plan, and perhaps that plan involved edging.

I didn’t want to give her too much credit. After all, if I hadn’t pushed her, she would probably still be downstairs eating dinner.

She took a small breath, my only warning before she fully pressed her pillow lips against mine. I fought back a moan as she parted her lips for me almost instantly. “That’s a good girl,” I whispered, gently sliding my tongue past her lips.

She reacted instantly, moving her tongue against mine. Her hips gently rocked, making my dick twitch against her. So close, yet so far. Not having my hands to touch her was torture, whether she planned it or not.

She wrapped her lips around my tongue and sucked it, continuing to grind down on me. A deep hum of satisfaction rippled through my throat as she moved.

Something soft covered my eyes, and her lips slowly separated from mine. I was confused for a split second before I opened my eyes. The little minx had covered my eyes with an extra piece of silk. “I agreed to be tied up, not to be blindfolded,” I smirked, knowing something she didn’t.

She meant to disservice my eyes by robbing them of her sight . However, silk was exceedingly sheer. Through her makeshift blindfold, I could see her clearly as day.

Now, the fun begins.

She smiled smugly as she looked at me, seemingly happy with herself that she’d ‘caught me off guard.’ “Use your imagination,” she giggled.

“That’ll hardly be necessary,” I said honestly.

This may have been better than having no blindfold. My only goal for tonight was to see her raw, desperate, and doing whatever she wanted. If she had been shy and didn’t want me looking at her, she may have held back.

She didn’t know I could see her, which worked entirely to my advantage.

Her eyes fell between us as she moved to sit on my thighs. Her bottom lip was between her teeth again as she looked at the imprint of my dick straining against my shorts.

Odette looked entirely intrigued by it, which amused me. She looked up at me through her lashes before looking down again. Lifting her hand, she looked like she was going to grab me, and I mentally prepared for the contact of her hand around me.

Instead, she retracted her hand back and made a face. I had to stop myself from smiling at the inner pep talk she was clearly having. She rolled her eyes at herself before peeking at my face again.

After she mustered up enough courage, she ever so gently touched my dick through my shorts. Her touch was gentle, and I could barely feel it, if I was being honest. It was as if she was trying not to hurt me.

“Did you find something you like?” I inquired, remembering I was supposed to pretend I couldn’t see exactly what she was doing. Her expression gave all her emotions away.

She widened her eyes. “Maybe...” She responded softly, applying more pressure as she palmed me. She pushed her eyebrows together as she wrapped her hand around me through my shorts. She pulled her hand away from me and wrapped it around her opposite wrist. When she concluded they were about the same width, her mouth dropped open.

It took everything in me to keep my expression neutral. If I had any doubts about my dick, they were long gone now. Fuck, she was so cute.

I observed her carefully as she wrapped her hands around the waistband of my shorts. She looked nervous as if it would jump out and bite her. Her eyes flickered back up to my face, “Is this okay?” She asked.

She knew my answer. I was very clear earlier. “You know the answer, Darling.”

She bit her lip as she pulled my shorts down. My dick sprung up, released from the restrictive shorts. Hard was an understatement after the torture she put me through.

Her stare was locked on my dick as she ran a single finger along a vein. I let out a breath, watching her wrap her hand around me. Her eyes kept flickering to my face as if trying to gauge my expression. Of course, I gave nothing away.

Slowly, she began stroking me. Her eyes stayed locked on my face the entire time.

She didn’t know it, but my eyes were locked on hers. I’d never seen someone so stunning. In the simplest terms, it looked like she belonged here. Sitting in my lap, my dick in her hands, and her eyes on me.

Odette said she couldn’t do anything like this while I watched her; little did she know that we were watching each other. Just as she was enjoying my reactions to her touch, I enjoyed hers. I wish she could see herself through my eyes; then, she would know that there was nothing at all to be embarrassed about. If she could see herself the way I do right now, she would think her idea of me wearing a blindfold was silly and downright unnecessary.

While she stroked me, I watched in satisfaction as she used her other hand to rub herself through her shorts. Again, I clenched my fists, reminding myself that if I broke away and touched her myself, I wouldn’t get to watch her crumble.

Her fingers were small and dainty, a drastic comparison to my large ones. She even made touching herself look proper.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” I ordered. I wanted to hear her say the words. The very improper words.

She blushed as she parted her lips, not allowing a moan to escape as she touched herself. “Use your imagination,” she said again.

I smirked, “Are you touching yourself, Odette? Does jerking me off turn you on?” I asked the obvious.

She moaned, looking slightly frustrated, “Yes,” she admitted, not a fan of being caught.

Her hand against me felt amazing, but I was too focused on her to fully appreciate the sensation. Truth be told, I cared more about her, her reactions, and her need for pleasure.

Through the sheer fabric of her shirt, her nipples hardened, making small peaks. I lightly thrust my hips up, encouraging her to continue her movement. “Your hand feels so good on me, Baby,” I rasped.

Odette’s cheeks lit in a blush as her eyes flicked up to me again. Like icebergs in the Atlantic, her eyes shine with curiosity and new sensations. Her innocent expressions and lustful pouted lips were a deadly combination. She would forever be a femme fatal as long as she was on top of me.

To my dismay, she took her hands off both of us, stopping the ripple effect she had on my body. It was only when she removed her hand that I realized the subtle goosebumps that covered my thighs and arms. I’d been touched before, and she made all the others cease to exist. Past encounters were just touch compared to the warm desire that seemed to have a domino effect from her hand to my body.

She shifted on the bed before she was completely off of it, where she stood on the wood floor. I fought the urge to turn my head, knowing I’d give myself away and potentially rob my mind of the artistry she was made of.

“What are you doing?” I questioned, not liking that I couldn’t see her. The sound of fabric on skin—a sound all too familiar—made my heart spike in excitement. I suppose her hand wasn’t doing the trick... I smirked.

Slight fumbling was heard—my best guess was that she tripped over herself. She was the clumsy type.

“Your pants are off; it’s only fair that mine come off too,” she rushed out. I could imagine how many times she’d practiced that one confident sentence in her mind before voicing it.

Fair seemed like an oxymoron. “Fair isn’t what this is about, Darling. You’re the one tying me up,” I reminded. She won, and this was her reward. “If I were in your position, I’d be much more selfish with my reward.”

After a few seconds, she responded, “You want me to be selfish?” Her lips were close to my ear, and her voice was a seductive whisper.

There was an edge to her tone that made me hungry. I craved her skin, thirsted for her lips. She sounded needy, and I’d just invited her to be greedy with me. “I want you to be desperately selfish,” I confirmed.

The little minx took me by surprise once more as I felt her lips on mine. Naturally, my eyes closed to bask in her taste. Her hands trailed up my chest, sending electricity throughout my body.

In an effortlessly swift movement, she swung her leg over me again. The bed shifted as she hovered over me, depriving my dick of what was above.

My fingertips moved to grab the single string that would untie me. It would be so simple to let myself take control. I needed her pussy against me. I needed my hands to grip her hips while pulling her back and forth on top of me. Fuck, I wanted to be inside her.

I couldn’t untie myself—this needed to happen her way. So that when we were done, she’d realize she’d rather be the one tied up. I let go of the silk and sighed, only for my breath to come out as a throaty moan as she lowered her hips.

“Fuck,” I cursed into her mouth. Wet didn’t even begin to describe the sensation of her pussy. It was soaking and slick. “Awe,” I teased. “Your little pussy is dripping, Baby.”

She broke away from our sloppy kiss, allowing me to open my eyes. “You sound flattered?” she questioned.

Her face was the only thing in view. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks stained a rosy pink. Whether that blush was from embarrassment or arousal, I didn’t care.

Returning to my experimental manipulation, I chose the following words with intent. “If you want me to flatter you, you’re going to have to do more than kiss me, Darling,” I informed. “If you want to hear how good you feel,” I raised my hips, running my dick along her slit. She shivered, absentmindedly putting more of her weight onto me, enjoying the friction. “If you want me to tell you how much of a good little girl you’re being, you’ll have to earn my praise,” I finished.

Like putty, she rocked herself against me, her brain becoming mush. Poor Baby, it was almost too easy.

She placed one last gentle kiss on my lips before she pushed her upper body up. My eyes greedily took her body in as she sat upright. Her makeshift shirt was still on, but everything below her ribs was bare, and it was mine.

Niko had made a fuss over how pretty her pussy was. Personally, I’d never cared much about the different ways a woman could look. They were all unique and sexy; I was a simple man. However... Niko was spot on. Odette had a very... very pretty pussy.

It was pink in color and glistening in her arousal. She was clean-shaven—or waxed, whichever gave her the result of complete bareness. This wasn’t a surprise coming from her—she was always kept together, and it was only assumed that her grooming habits reflected that.

My dick was slick and covered in her juices, making her glide her swollen clit against me easily. I’d been so distracted by the sight of her that her moans almost went unnoticed.

Her hands were behind her, propping herself up as she held my knees. She used the angle to her advantage as she rubbed herself against me. Her eyes were closed, with her head slightly tilted back. Moans—a delicate mixture of whimpers and soft breathing blessed my ears.

She looked like fucking art. With each moan, she made the air around her a slave to her lips.

Watching Odette like this had my dick throbbing. With her grinding against me, I feared I might not last long. “That’s it, Baby. Your pussy feels so fucking good,” I encouraged. “Does this feel good? Tell me how much you’re enjoying yourself,” I instructed.

Selfishly, I wanted to hear that proper mouth of hers say dirty things. I wanted to taint her innocence so badly.

She let out a long, breathy moan as she moved faster. “I—” she struggled to form a sentence. This time, the blush was from embarrassment.

I smirked. “Use your big girl words for me, Baby,” I husked out, hoping to trigger a reaction I’d been craving.

As if the simple words were a key to a waterfall, I felt more wetness pool out of her onto me. Her hands were squeezing my knees, keeping herself stable as she rode me. “Dominic,” she moaned.

Daddy. Sir. Master.

Dominic was not what she’d be calling me in the bedroom—that I was sure of. However, now wasn’t the time to introduce that until we gave her options. Daddy may very well be a hard limit for her—seeing as she had very real father issues.

Still, The thought of the endearments coming from her mouth made my dick twitch. “Oh, I know, Baby,” I dismissed.

My breathing was harder now as I tried to control myself. My mind was plagued with the awareness of how easily I could break out of the silk restraints. Precum was leaking out of me as she expertly worked her pussy on me.

This was precisely what I wanted. Usually, when sex got desperate, sweaty, and messy, it didn’t always look the best, which was expected. But she made desperation look stunning. She was a moaning mess, spilling her arousal onto me like I was nothing but a dick for her to grind on. The only thing on her mind was getting off.

I was entranced by every movement she made. Every sound, every breath, every twitch of her aching core against mine.

If I thought her addicting before, now I knew that if something were to happen, and our relationship were to end, no rehab could save me. Each breath she breathed was Nicotine. Her lips, the finest liquor. Her touch mimicked the effects of hard drugs.

Her hips moved faster as she found another rhythm, this one more jerky than the last. I knew it wouldn’t be long until she crumbled atop me. “Are you going to cum, Odette? Is that what you want? Do you want to cum for Da- me?” Fuck.

“Yes!” She cried as she breathed heavily. Her stomach muscles contracted as she moved, her hip bones coming in and out of visibility as she moved in the most natural way humans do. Cumming was one of the most intense sensations we could have, and she’d been deprived of it for too many years.

Once we introduced her to more aspects of our desires, she’d never be left unsatisfied. In fact, I was sure she’d become our personal little nympho, craving our touch or dominance to clear her head. If she was this desperate now, she’d be a sobbing mess later.

My dick twitched as I felt my own climax begin to unfold. “You’re going to make me cum, Baby,” I warned.

“Really?” She sounded surprised through the moans. What? Did she expect her attack on my dick to not affect me? I may have been more interested in her pleasure and the way she looked right now than getting myself off, but any person would fall to their knees at the sight of her.

“Yes, you feel so good. You’re being such a good girl for me,” I assured.

Her juices had made quite a mess between us. My own hips and torso were glistening with her arousal. The sloppier, the better.

Her lustful eyes moved to me again as she moved faster. That’s right, eyes on me. Such a good little slut. Her bottom lip was pulled tight between her teeth as she rode out her orgasm. “Dominic,” she moaned.

My mind was quick to replace my name with Daddy.

I was jerking my hips up, meeting her as she ground down on me. My dick twitched before I felt myself join her in our release. “Fuck, you’re making Daddy feel so good, Baby. You did such a good job,” I grunted as I came on my torso.

Her legs shook as she caught her breath. Whether she didn’t hear me, was dazed, or was outright ignoring my slip-up, she didn’t have any reaction. I was hoping she didn’t hear me over her own moans. We hadn’t discussed names or much else yet and agreed we’d give her the list of options tomorrow.

Her cum was all over me—more so than it was on her. It covered her inner thighs and pussy, the sight of it made me crave her. I knew she’d probably had enough, but I hadn’t. She’d been walking around here, teasing, seducing, looking ravishing every day. I wanted to taste her.

Fuck it.

In a second flat, I’d pulled the silk string and released my hands. I tore the ‘blindfold’ off my face and reached for her.

Her dazed eyes widened as she tried to cover herself. “What are you—”

“Move your fucking hands,” I warned. She moved her hands away immediately from the low tone of my voice. I didn’t waste any time as I grabbed her by her thighs and lifted her body up to me. I laid back down, pulling her pussy down onto my mouth.

She shrieked out in shock, trying to lift herself off of me. “Dominic, I’m sticky and gross—” she tried to think of an excuse. In reality, she was just shy. I’d just seen how desperate she was to get off, that didn’t disappear within seconds.

“Then sit down and let me clean you up,” I rasped.

My arms were wrapped around her thighs, and she wasn’t going anywhere. I pulled her all the way down to my face and held her, knowing she wasn’t strong enough to battle me in this fight.

My tongue found her clit immediately, and I began to overstimulate the little minx. She’d already given herself a lot of attention and friction on my dick; now, it was my turn.

It was satisfying how much louder she got when she wasn’t the one in control. She was a moaning, whimpering mess as she held the headboard. “Oh my—”

She lost her words in pleasure.

Kindness wasn’t in my nature. That didn’t change with her. I didn’t grant her the courtesy of a break. Instead, I selfishly indulged myself in her taste. She tasted sweet and so addictive. I hummed in pleasure against her, “You taste so fucking good, Baby.”

One of her hands moved from the headboard to my hair, where she tangled her fingers, “This is ch-cheating,” she struggled to say.

I smirked as I teased her hole with my tongue. So tight... I pushed my tongue into her, feeling her squeeze around it. “Fuck,” she panted. She stopped trying to fight me and finally let her weight go, allowing me to grip her perfect little ass.

Awe, she likes having her little hole filled. I curled my tongue up, flicking a soft spot inside her. Her grip on my hair tightened, “Please don’t stop,” she begged, gently grinding down on my face.

I moved my hand down to her entrance, ready to replace my tongue with my finger. I pulled away, taking the opportunity to look up at her.

I moaned at the sight of her. I could see directly up her flimsy shirt, giving me a dazzling sight of her beautiful, perky breasts. Heart tattoo and all. Aiden was going to be jealous. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Odette,” I whispered before I plunged my finger into her.

She cried out at the intrusion but was soon replaced with moans of pleasure as I curled my finger into her greedy hole. My tongue resumed its attack on her clit, keen on overstimulating her. I knew I couldn’t go as far as I’d like without establishing a safe word.

“Please,” she repeated, clenching around my finger.

“Can you feel how tight you’re squeezing my finger? Awe, we’re going to have to stretch you out, Baby,” I teased.

“You feel so good,” she moaned, her lust overpowering her embarrassment.

That’s right, Darling. Crumble.

My teeth grazed her clit, and she flinched, “I can’t take this much longer,” she warned.

Her pussy was squeezing my finger so hard I thought it might turn purple. I curled it faster, hitting that soft spot she seemed to love. “I want you to cum, Baby. Give me every last drop,” I ordered.

On command, she almost screamed out in ecstasy as she came. Her cum leaked out of her into my hand. I pulled my finger out of her and lapped at her hole.

I would never get tired or bored of her, not with her being so addicting. She was my drug and my art.

Her thighs shook beautifully, her eyes closed as she tried to catch her breath. Her body was limp as I moved her to the side of the bed. She lay flat on her back, following my movements with tired eyes. “You weren’t supposed to untie yourself,” she panted.

I had to resist the urge to kiss her as she sprawled there like a work of art. Her hair was wild, laying in untamed waves against the pillows. Her bottom half was bare—and in desperate need of a cloth. I wanted to photograph her—to save this moment forever. I wanted her to see how flawless she looked when she let go.

I tilted my head, “I also wasn’t meant to see through the silk blindfold, but I did that too.”

Her eyes widened when she realized that I was watching her the entire time she was taking her joyride. She had nothing to be embarrassed about; in fact, she should’ve been proud. She gave me quite the performance.

Remembering her nakedness, she quickly crossed her legs, sat up, and draped her arms over her crotch. “You should go take a shower,” she rushed out.

I didn’t understand her need to cover herself. “I’ve seen you naked, Darling. That’s not necessary,” I informed as I stood. “Coming?” I questioned, gesturing to the bathroom.

She raised her eyebrows. “Huh? In there—with you?” I could see a million excuses flying through her worrisome mind. None of them would change the fact that I wanted to take care of her now, including getting both of us clean.

“Please.” The words felt strange as they left my lips, but I couldn’t think of anything else to portray my want. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” I prompted.

She looked confused as if she expected me to dismiss the fact that she was as much of a sticky mess as me. Vulnerability was written all over her expression and body language. She wasn’t used to being cared for by others, and it showed. “I can clean myself up,” she said slowly.

Trying to keep my voice lighthearted, I responded, “Yes, but I want to,” I promised. I’d be irritated if she didn’t accept my help. We were going to have to help her learn that we were here for more than just sex.

She still seemed unsure and confused, but she nodded and did not argue further, which I appreciated. “Okay.”

She stood up, her legs still slightly unstable. I grabbed her hand, noticing her start to fidget. I hated that she felt this way after what we did. She didn’t feel bad or regret anything, but she wasn’t giving any emotion away. I was worried that if she needed aftercare or something more from us after a scene, she wouldn’t ask. She’d deal with anything she was going through herself because she didn’t want to be a bother.

I hated that she thought this way and needed to break that thought right out of her head. She was safe with us; she didn’t have to take care of herself; that was what we were here for.

I turned the faucet to hot and turned to her. She looked cold in the freezing house, with goosebumps all over her skin. We only had a few minutes before that water turned as cold as ice, so I had to move quickly.

“Lift,” I spoke the order gently, touching her elbows. She averted her eyes quickly before she met mine again. Doing as I said, she lifted them into the air. I grabbed the flimsy top and lifted it over her head, leaving her completely bare.

I took her in for a moment, now getting to see all of her at once. Everything about her was perfect. From how her bone structure complimented her subtle curves to how her jet-black hair made her eyes shine, she was perfection.

“It’s going to get cold,” she muttered, breaking me out of my trance.

Unable to stop myself, I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into the shower with me. She giggled at my sudden action, clearly happy to be in the warm water.

With my hands around her waist, I pulled her body flush against mine. She peered up at me with wide eyes, as if she hadn’t just ridden my face. I kissed her, easing her mind a bit. I grabbed soap—realizing she wouldn’t smell like the luxury brands she must use to smell as good as she did all the time. I didn’t have any women’s products in here- hopefully, she’d be okay with smelling like a man for the night. I gathered the soap into my hands and began gently rubbing my hands over her body, taking special care not to touch any areas she’d be uncomfortable with.

“So, now that you’ve tied me up, how was your reward?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Apparently, I’m not very good at trying you up... or informed enough to know that silk is see-through,” she answered, cringing at herself.

“No, you’re not. If it makes you feel better, the bow was very cute.”

She smiled as the suds washed off of her body. The water quickly changed to cold, and she flinched, “I hate this water,” she deadpanned, moving to get out.

I smirked, washing myself up in record time. I was used to the changing water temperature. Cold showers were normal, and I’d grown accustomed to them over the years.

By the time we were both dried off and back in our clothes, she looked unsure again. She was lingering in the middle of the room, and I knew the exact thoughts going through her mind. “Let’s go to sleep,” I pulled back the sheets, gesturing for her to come in.

She looked relieved, “Are you sure? I don’t mind sleeping in my own bed—”

“Get in the bed, Odette.”

Her feet moved quickly as she climbed into my bed. I turned the light off before sliding in next to her. I didn’t allow her any space as I pulled her back flush against my front, spooning her.

“Goodnight,” she said softly.

I pulled her tighter to me, letting my eyes close.

The bed shifted, and my arm fell to the bed as she slid out from under me. “Odette?” I mumbled, sleep still heavy in my voice.

My room was pitch black, only allowing me to see her silhouette in the moonlight. It was late; what was she doing? She didn’t respond to my call as she wandered to my door.

I sat up, confused as to why she was leaving. Had I done something wrong? Was the manly body wash bothering her? It was the wrinkles in the sheets—it had to be. “Odette, what’s wrong?” I questioned, getting up to stop her.

She wandered down the hall, completely ignoring me as I followed her. She didn’t react to anything I was saying; she was just walking. Her movements were sluggish and slow, and her eyes looked dull.

“Odette, did I do something?” I asked again, now beginning to worry. Did I misjudge the mood earlier? Did I scare her? Was I too rough?

She wandered downstairs, where I could hear my three friends talking. It was probably around midnight, and they were grading papers in the living room. Being a teacher meant a lot of late-night grading.

Aiden was the first to notice her, “Odette?” He questioned. He looked at me, and I could only shrug. I felt like a damn fool, not knowing how to explain to them that I’d somehow made her upset.

“Is everything okay?” Wyatt asked, a deep look of concern on his face. She wasn’t okay; that much was clear. Her expression was entirely void, and I could only think of one thing that would cause it.

I called myself Daddy, and she wasn’t ready for that. It was a stupid fuck up, said out of impulse. I knew better than to scare her off right off the bat.

“What happened?” Niko pushed his eyebrows together, moving to stand.

“Odette, stop,” I said firmly. I fucked up, but that didn’t give her an excuse to ignore any of us. We could talk this through.

Aiden stood up and approached us, “What happened?” He asked me.

I ran my hand through my hair, “Everything was fine, then she woke up and left my room—”

Aiden turned away from me and looked at her as she walked—or wandered. She was moving slowly; it was a miracle she hadn’t stumbled down the stairs. “Did she wake up?” he asked himself.

Tiredly, I gestured to her. She was up, walking, eyes open.

“She’s asleep,” Aiden said confidently, following behind her.

“She’s sleepwalking?” Niko seemed intrigued as his eyes followed her.

“I don’t know if sleepwalking is the right term. This looks more like a night terror. Her eyes are open, but she’s not in the same reality as us,” he explained.

“She said this hasn’t happened for years,” Wyatt added.

She stopped walking by the front door. I recalled Aiden’s previous explanation for her strange sleeping habits. He said that she was trying to get away from something—or someone—that was why she’d always wake up in other places besides her house.

Her hand reached for the doorknob, and I tensed. Did she not feel safe here? Perhaps in her sleep, we’d see something she didn’t want to admit to us. It was possible we were moving too fast, or this was too much for her.

Aiden looked especially worried when her hand touched the knob, like he was thinking the same as me.

But she didn’t open the door. She locked it. The lock was long broken and wouldn’t engage, but she locked it. She wasn’t trying to get away anymore. She was trying to keep something out.