Here’s a fresh teaser for you guys this week…inspired by a pic I found online.
****WARNING: BDSM elements, Domme, sub, and a bit of rough play.
He hesitated before entering the studio apartment. When he finally stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him, I approached him slipping my arm around his waist and sliding the deadbolt home.
What happened here was between the two of us, I wasn’t about to share him with anyone. His sharp inhale at the contact struck a chord of lust and sent it reverberating through my body. The dim lighting reflected in his eyes as I looked up at him. They shifted from green to blue and dilated. I pressed against him savoring the hard feel of his body against mine and the smell of his aftershave.
“You shaved.” I brushed my fingertips along his jaw and pressed them to his full lips when he opened his mouth to reply. The words died in his throat. He nodded instead.
“Did I give you permission to do that?”
He shook his head.
“I can’t hear you.” I leaned closer forcing him to meet my gaze. My left hand rested on his chest, the other hovered over his lips.
“No, Mistress.” His brow arched and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The sparkle of mischief in his eyes emboldened me.
“We discussed this before.” My fingers traced his sharp jawline. I tangled my fingers in the mass of dark curls lying against his collar and tugged his head back with a sharp jerk. He dropped to his knees in an instant, his eyes still locked on mine, the heat simmering in their depths. “I told you not to shave this week.”
“My apologies, Mistress.” His deep baritone made me shiver. I loved the way he called me mistress, like it was a prayer and a curse all combined in a loving caress.
“If you’re not going to follow the rules—” I slid both my hands into his hair. “—how do you expect me to follow them.” His chest rested against my hips and torso. If I released his hair, he could bury his face in my cleavage, but I wasn’t ready to give him what he wanted. He came to me because he wanted my domination. I would give him what he wanted, but it would be on my terms. “Did you do it on purpose to garner punishment?”
His defiant gaze never wavered. “Yes, Mistress.” I tugged both fistfuls of hair. He moaned, his body arching against me.
“You want to touch me, don’t you?” I released my grip and stroked the back of his head with my fingertips.
“Yes, Mistress,” he whispered as his eyes drifted closed.
I bent down and whispered in his ear. “Only when I’ve made you beg for it.”
Comments always welcome. What do you think?