The beautiful piano notes of “The Lightning Strike” by Snow Patrol flooded the room. He backed her on the wall, cupped the back of her head, and kissed her hard, as he never had before.
A need to brand her as his whipped through him. He closed his eyes and imagined her bound by ropes or cuffs. He became so hard he hurt. Fuck. She doesn’t know the first thing about this game. Take it slow, Alistair. Their lips clashed and he bit her lip hard. She moaned. Yes, Sophia, that’s it. He backed away from her and started to divest himself of his jeans, boxers, and loafers. He advanced on her naked, sporting the biggest erection of his whole life.
She gasped and her hands faltered on the fastenings of her bra.
He inhaled deeply, controlling the urge to snap the ties of her bra and delicately unfastened the silk strings that held it in place. He looked hungrily at her breasts, palming them. He led her to the bed. He laid her down, in the middle of the bed, reclining on the bedpost to study her, taking his time before sitting on the bed and leaning to kiss her neck and shoulders, his hands roaming over her body, driving her crazy with need. “Let me guide you through this.”
Oh, my! What is he planning to do?
He picked up the first scarf and paused to gaze into her eyes. “Close your eyes.”
Sophia stared at Alistair with a twinge of fear. His whole bearing had changed. She wouldn’t dare speak a word. When his fingers gently touched her face, she almost screamed.
“Don’t be afraid,” he licked her throat with the tip of his tongue. “Can I blindfold you?”
She only nodded. Her already big eyes appeared huge on her face. Her hands started to tremble and she fisted them.
Delicately, he folded the white scarf, “Shut your eyes,” he ordered again, softly, and covered her closed eyes with the scarf tying it on the right side of her head.
Sophia heaved a deep sigh as the darkness enfolded her and she fumbled for his biceps. He held her hands in his and guided them to rest in the bed angled upwards to the bedposts. “I’m going to tie your wrists with the scarves,” he knotted the first scarf around her right wrist and tested the fastening, then did the same to the other wrist.
Sophia’s mouth dried out in anticipation and her breathing shortened.
In the darkness, everything became overwhelming: the feel of the cotton against her back, the silk around her wrists, the fluttering brush of his fingers on her arms and shoulders, the shift of the bed, the music, the lyrics.
“Now, the scarves to the bedposts,” he tied them to the bedposts and pulled her, arms stretched to the point where she couldn’t move.
Oh, hell… Oh, hell!
“Sophia,” his deep and low voice vibrated in his chest like a rumble, almost a primitive sound, that made goose bumps appear across her skin. “You with me?”
“Yes,” she rasped.
“Free your mind.” The mattress dipped between her legs as he settled himself there and she exhaled. “Don’t rationalize.”
She felt his chest and abs as he hovered over her. The touch of his silky skin and hard muscles was all she could feel.
His thumb brushed her mouth and she opened her lips. He pressed it inside and she suckled on it. He breathed in sharply and his other hand fluttered against her throat and down her shoulder, finding a breast.
She moaned, “Oh, please.”
She never thought how arousing being tied and blindfolded could be. She controlled herself, her teeth sunk in her full lip to stop her screaming at every move he made.
“Scream if you want to,” he rasped, reading her struggle, “let me hear your pleasure.” He held her head in his large hand and bent to suckle a breast, tonguing the nipple slowly with gentle strokes, teasing, tormenting.
The unknown brought on by the darkness and the impotence of being at another’s mercy were arousing and scary. Sophia was sinking, desperate for a lifeline.
“You feel like heaven.” His control rapidly slipped away. “I can’t get enough,” and he closed his teeth around her nipple.
She arched on his mouth and gasped low and long, thrashing her head on the hand holding it. He tightened his hold on her head as he suckled and tongued and bit her nipple.
He travelled to the other breast and applied the same sweet torture. His hands went down to her panties and, untying the ribbons, he felt for her slit, his middle finger entering her, “Sophia, you’re soaking wet,” he revered. And dived in again, his thumb brushing her clitoris.
She cried, grabbing the scarves for support.
“Beg, scream. I want to hear you,” he grunted in approval.
She shivered. “One more. Another finger. Please.”
As he fit a second finger in her tight passage, her muscles crushed them deep inside her. He rotated his hand.
“Alistair,” she screamed his name.
He teased her again with his hand and a fluttery touch of his thumb.
“Kiss me.”
“You’re in no position to give orders here.”
“Please,” she heaved, “please.”
“Are you begging?”
“Yes,” she all but shouted.
He laughed low in his throat and kissed her, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth. His demanding, beseeching kisses and slow fingering took her higher and higher.
“I want you. Now!” she cried as she ground on his fingers.
He stopped his caresses and she moaned, in protest.
“Eager and commanding, aren’t you?” He tsked twice. “Wrong move, Beauty.” He moved back to the edge of the bed and lifted her legs on the crook of his arms, his hands supporting her buttocks in the air, opening her to his mouth.
He groaned when his tongue brushed over her clitoris and she screamed.
“You taste like honey,” he dipped his tongue deep inside her and swirled it. “No,” he whispered and tasted her again, “like ambrosia. I’m going to get addicted.”
Sophia’s fingers fisted around the silk and she begged, “Please, please, I’m begging.”
She heard as he tore the condom foil and moaned, “Yes, please.”
He chuckled deep and low and sheathed himself. He knelt down on the bed by her side; his hand ran over the length of her torso. She squirmed under his caresses, panting.
“So soft, so beautiful, so perfect,” his voice was decadent and his hand descended hard on the side of her thigh. She screamed and he hit the other. He moved his hand to cup her face and bent to kiss her stormily. Without warming, he slapped her clitoris hard again and again and again as she gasped and cried low. He rolled onto her, all the while observing her expression, supporting himself on one forearm. “Wind your legs around my waist and lock your ankles, but don’t move.”
Sophia had never been so confused in her whole life. How is pain so arousing? Why does he like this? All rational thought had fled her mind.
“Sophia.” The bed dipped between her legs as he shifted to hit her again on both of her thighs. “Will you do as asked or will I have to spank you?”
“No. No,” she panted, “it’s enough. It’s enough.” Her thighs were stinging. He was too strong. She raised her legs and wound them around his waist.
He leaned on her and started to move, grinding the head of his erection up and down, from her slit to her clitoris and back. Sophia’s breath hitched and she licked and bit her lip.
“You drive me crazy when you do that,” he murmured and sucked her bottom lip into his mouth.