He lowered his hands to the bed, made tight fists.
Leaning forward, I lowered myself so my breast was right over his mouth. He sucked at the hard tip and I gasped. I might be mad at him, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love what he did to me. He knew exactly how to make me hot.
But I knew how to make him hot, too, because his hands were right back on me again.
I sat up, took his wrists and raised them over his head. He wasn’t paying much attention because my breasts were right in front of his face again.
“Hold here,” I said. His fingers curled around the slats of the headboard as he continued to suckle and lave at one nipple, then the other.
I rocked my hips again.
“Mate,” he growled. “Put me in you.”
I shook my head. “Not yet.”
During all the time we’d gone at it, I had yet to give him a blow job, both of us being too busy getting his cock in my pussy instead of my mouth. I slowly kissed my way down his lean, hard torso.
I felt his cock bob against my belly, and I looked up at him. His hands went to my hair, pushed me lower. If I hadn’t given him oral sex, that meant he’d never done it before, but he knew my intentions.
He didn’t, actually. If he did, he wouldn’t be so relaxed.
I took his wrists in my grip. Sat up. “You’re being bad.” I climbed off him, grabbed the utility belt from his uniform, found his wrist restraints. They dangled from my finger as I smiled at him. “It’s my turn to play.”
His eyes widened, but his cock bobbed, pre-cum seeping from the tip.
“You want to restrain me?” he asked, his voice dark.
I nodded. “I want to torture you. Make you beg.”
He growled, lifted his hands over his head voluntarily.
I moved so I could work one cuff onto his wrist, then through the headboard slats, then to the other wrist, taunting him with my breasts some more. He definitely was a boob man.
I checked they were secure and that he wasn’t coming loose, but that it wasn’t too tight.
Straddling him again, I kissed him. “Ready for the torture?”
His eyes darkened. “You want me to beg?”
I shrugged, kissed down his body again, hovered just over the crown of his cock.
“Mate,” he groaned, looking down his body at me. My hair was a curtain that fell over his thighs, his cock, his balls. Yeah, torture.
I kissed the tip, tasted his salty essence.
“Destiny,” he cried, his body going taut, the restraints clanging against the headboard. I kissed down his length and kept on going, sliding off the bed and standing at the end.
“Mate?” he asked, eyeing me. He looked gorgeous, naked and virile. Potent and so mine. He trusted me enough to allow me to restrain him, control him.
Yeah, well, I’d trusted him, too.
“The torture begins now, mate. That meeting you’re going to without me?”
His eyes widened, all at once realizing I’d somehow heard.
“Yeah, well, looks like you’re not going at all.”
I grabbed my clothes off the floor as he protested.