Page 167 of Wallflower

A breath stutters past her lips when I release her. The unwavering eye contact alone is enough to light me up, awakening my lust-driven side.

Rose stretches up on her tiptoes, planting a gentle kiss to my lips. It’s brief, but enough to have the rage leaking through my fingers like sand. She pulls back, turning on the spot. Raising her arms, she lays her wrists within the binds attached to the solid X-frame.

Bringing my chest flush with her back, I reach over her to secure the leather cuffs. “You’ll use your safeword?”

“Yes,” she breathes, anticipation flowing steadily through her veins as I clasp the final cuff into place. Usually I’d bind the ankles, but this is far enough for her first time.

“You will not cum, do you understand?”

Rose nods her head, a smirk pulling her cheek.

She knows the rules, communication is so fucking important when engaged like this, but she breaks them just to have my hand crack off her ass.

Fuck, I can’t resist her when she’s this close. The way she smells, how her skin feels beneath my touch, the sounds she makes cumming all over my fucking dick. She sucks me in like a helpless creature trapped in her whirlpool.

Sweeping her hair to one side, my lips blaze a path down her neck as she arches into me. Palms skimming over her corset, I fight the urge to unlace it. I need some barrier between us, otherwise I’ll toss everything out the window just to have my mouth on her fucking body.

Prying myself away from her is agony. I’ve spent weeks fantasizing about her like this—tethered and at my mercy. I step back. “Get a good grip, baby, I won’t be nice.”

I watch her strong legs shift, adjusting her stance in the black pump heels with red bottoms. Her fingers curl around the cross’s frame, gripping tight, as she bends ever so slightly at the waist.

Fucking tease.

My palms rub together. “Ready?”

Rose nods, and without warning, I spank her.

Smack.

She fucking moans. It echoes through me so deeply I feel it everywhere. There isn’t an inch of me unaffected by this enchantress.

“Count,” I demand, landing another punishing blow.

“Two,” she pants.

Again.

“Three.”

Crack.

“Four.”

Once more, I land another slap to the same spot. The most beautiful shade of red borders the lighter coloured welt of my handprint.

“Five,” she gasps, rocking back, pulling against the anchors.

My cock leaks a steady drip, begging to be inside that sweet cunt.

The small lapse of time allows the reason for this to resurface, the unfavourable emotions forcing themselves to the forefront of my mind “Tell me, flower. What weren’t you ready for before that you are now?”

“You’re going to have to do better than this to get that out of me.”

I step into her, pressing my cock against her clothed centre. She whimpers, winding her hips. Sinking my fist into her hair, I coil tight, pushing her into a deeper bend.

With my free hand, I pull the end of the ribbon, slowly unlacing the corset. She shakes in my hold, pussy soaking the front of my boxers as she grinds against my dick.

“Why won’t you tell me?” I ask, pulling the ribbon through the last loop. The corset falls to the cement floor, and I kick it aside.