R18
....
For a long time, Ava heard nothing but her racing heartbeat.
Matthew’s presence had vanished a few seconds ago, leaving her vulnerable here. And when she tried to extend her senses, she realized that he had used iron handcuffs. The iron had been wrapped in velvet so she didn’t sense it earlier.
She couldn’t use her magick.
"Damn it, Matthew!" she hissed. What kind of punishment was this? "Matthew?"
Ava gulped.
"Matthew?" Where the hell was he?
Luckily, she wasn’t naked or she would do everything she could to remove the damned handcuffs.
"Damnit Matthew where the hell are you?" she asked to noone in particular.
It took her a couple of seconds to realize that Matthew wasn’t playing with her.
He meant what he said.
"Matthew?" she said.
Did he fucking leave her alone in the hall? Tied up with iron cuffs?
What the hell!?
"Matthew... I swear to the goddess if you dared to leave-"
"Relax..." Matthew’s voice came from somewhere in her left. She stilled.
"Where have you been?"
"Getting some... tools."
"What tools?" she asked, she realized her palms were already sweating. Was she nervous? However, Matthew answered her by tugging at the neckline of her dress and ripping it down the center.
Her eyes widened. She couldn’t see a damn thing, and that was playing with her senses. The cuffs had disabled her ability to use her magick and now, the situation earlier had been reversed.
"You can tell me to stop now..." he whispered next to her ear.
She debated. Being bound wasn’t her strongest suit. She wanted control, she wanted to maintain her dominance. But something about his voice urged her to continue with whatever game Matthew had in mind.
"D— Don’t stop." She swallowed.
"Will you tell me if you want me to stop?"
She nodded. Yes. She would. She would definitely tell him if she had enough of his games.
"Good."
"What– "
Ava stopped talking when she felt something, a feather-like thing on her feet that barely touched the floor.
"Matthew?"
Instead of a reply, her ass was met with a gentle pat. She could tell it wasn’t his hand otherwise it would have stung.
"What are you doing?"
Again something landed on her ass, it sting a bit this time but not enough to hurt.
"Stop talking Ava."
"But..."
Her sentence was cut off as the thing landed on her other asxcheek. Her body jerked forward.
"You don’t take orders too well, do you now?"
She could hear the reprimand in his tone. And that displeased her. She didn’t want him to scold her.
She wanted him to... praise her.
So she decided to stay quiet and let Matthew do what he pleased. She arched forward, trying to brush her breasts to his chest but he stepped back.
She could feel him looking at her, assessing her.
She felt the feather light touch again, and realized it was an actual feather. It traced her curves starting from her neck, across her breasts, then her stomach and the sides of her ass.
Slowly, the feather moved from her foot to her leg then to her navel. Traveling reverse on her body now. It stayed there for a few seconds until she started squirming.
She shuddered as her cock deprived body rebelled against the fact that he was playing with her senses.
Ava was bound, unable to move her body as she pleased. And it was driving her insane.
Teased until she squirmed, tormented until she came. But the fact that this only made her blood rush towards her entrance was horrifically weird.
And yet so very... very satisfying.
Something about being bound, her movement limited, was turning her on. Something about being helpless, unable to move was making her pxssy clench.
Her core throbbed. The unfamiliar pressure from her arms that was forced to sustain the weight of her body reminded her that she was still suspended. She was at his mercy.
"Please Matthew... " she said, breathless. She wanted to beg him to fuck her. But she couldn’t say it.
He yanked her hair at her back, forcing her to arch her body in his arms, tipping her head back. She felt the feather drop near her foot. Then he twisted her nipple, pinched it until she called out for his name.
It drew a moan from her lips. She closed her eyes. The pain only created electricity pulses on he stomach. She wanted more of the pain.
Damnit!
She was losing her mind.
"Please Matthew!"
"Then? Tell me... what you did, Ava."
"I—" She wanted to pretend that she didn’t know. But she did. Hell, she knew it from the start. Jude. It was Jude. Matthew was jealous. And now, he was punishing her. "It was something that I needed to do."
"Was it?"
Her chest raised and fell.
"Please..."
"Please what?"
"Fuck me. Please..."
He chuckled behind her. Goosebumps skittered through her skin. She was wet, dripping. And all she could think of was him... inside her.
"Please..." she begged.
Matthew stopped moving behind her. Then she felt his dxck rubbing against her from behind.
Damnit. She cursed inwardly.
She badly wanted to touch it and guide it towards her wet entrance. But she couldn’t fucking move.
He was taking his damn time!
He walked in front of her. Then he lifted both of her legs up and rested them on his arms– a position that she only saw at pornsites when she was in her teens. It was definitely new to her and fucking erotic. Being fucked like this in the dark with her handcuffs on was just... different.
It was just them and the dark.
And something about that brought comfort inside her.
He slowly rubbed his hard shaft against her slick entrance. Before sliding inside her. She bucked her hips upwards, as she welcomed him.
She was wet and ready, yet she could still feel him stretch her wide open.
"Oh... god.." It felt good. It felt so fucking good.
She wanted to grab his thigh, to urge him to move. But again... she couldn’t.
All she could do was wait.
And when he did, warmth immediately surged in between her thighs. The pressure that had been building earlier spread in waves through her body.
"Do you want it fast?" he asked, slowing his pace.
"Yes... Yes please..." This man. He wanted her to beg. And she obliged. There was no harm in begging for something she was dying to have.
"Then shut your mouth Ava..."
She pressed her lips together and waited...
Then he started moving. Hard, rough and languid strokes ravaged her.
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