Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Darkness surrounds me. With the blindfold over my eyes, I can’t see anything. My hearing is sharpened, my ears continuously searching for any signs of Matteo even being in the same room.
I rock from side to side on the bed, trying to keep my limbs from becoming numb.
After the shower, Matteo carried me into bed, then blindfolded me and told me to get on my hands and knees.
He spread my legs apart and tied my ankles to the bottom of the bed frame. Without any warning, he pulled my wrists under me until my cheek was squished against the bed, then he tied them to the bed frame too.
Lastly, as he chuckled, I felt something cold being squirted on my ass and something hard being inserted. He murmured soothing words as I whimpered, telling me to relax.
I knew if I had said my safe word, Matteo would’ve stopped. He would’ve removed my restraints and asked me what was wrong.
I could’ve stopped this. But I didn’t.
What does that say about me?
Every time I wiggle, the plug in my ass slides around inside me. I thought this would feel painful or at least uncomfortable but it’s actually . . .
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying it’s pain-free or totally comfortable. This is dirty and wrong, but above all, it feels sensual.
That’s why I didn’t stop Matteo. His fingers caressing my cheeks and his coaxing voice in my ear made me lose my mind.
I don’t know how long I’ve been lying here like this, waiting for him, my pussy ready for him. My heart skips a beat every time I hear the slightest sound—a knock against the window, a thud just outside the bedroom door, a heavy footstep.
Whenever Matteo wants me, I’m here, ready for him to use. The idea drives me wild. My pussy feels empty in contrast to my stretched ass.
Every time I try to lower my hips, the butt plug lodges itself deeper, in a different angle, stopping me. It must be attached to something; perhaps the head of the bed. I can’t reach my fingers high enough to reach the part of me that’s dripping wet either.
I’ve been dying for release since we were in the shower, when I had Matteo’s cock in my mouth, when his hands lathered me up and washed me down.
And now . . .
With an impotent groan, I pull my thighs as close together as I can in a desperate attempt to relieve some of the pressure that has built up in my core. It doesn’t work.
“Didn’t I tell you not to even try?” Matteo’s voice makes me jerk against my restraints in surprise. When did he enter the bedroom? I didn’t even hear him breathe.
“I didn’t touch myself,” I protest.
“Yes, kitten. Because you couldn’t,” he says.
My cheeks heat up. I feel like a little girl who has just gotten caught stealing cookies from a hidden jar.
“I’ve been watching you.” I feel the mattress dip under Matteo’s weight, and my heart thumps in my chest. He’s right beside me. “I opened and shut the door, then I stayed in here. You think I’d miss the opportunity to watch you squirm in frustration, all helpless and vulnerable and sexy?”
I bite my bottom lip. This is embarrassing. But despite my shame—or maybe because of it—tingles rush all over my body, waking up my nerve endings.
“I said you weren’t allowed to play with yourself. But you couldn’t help yourself, could you, kitten? You tried everything. Don’t deny it. I saw everything.”
A moan escapes my lips when Matteo traces the length of my spine with a light finger. God, I’m so sensitive. Goosebumps rise across my skin.
“I told you I’d punish you, kitten. I’m going to spank you. Not now . . . but later, when you least expect it.”
“What are you going to do now, Sir?”
Matteo says nothing. I feel him move behind me, between my spread legs. Just knowing he’s there makes my whole body thrum with anticipation. What is he looking at? What will he do next?
“You look so sexy like this I want to keep you tied up just like this all night,” he says, desire dripping from every syllable.
“Matteo, I can’t—”
A smack on my ass makes me yelp, cutting off the rest of my sentence.
“That’s one,” he says. “But you still have two more coming because you didn’t address me properly. You’ll behave, won’t you, kitten?”
My arousal grows as the sting on my skin starts to feel good. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
I gasp when I feel something at my entrance. Something hard and hot and—“Matteo,” I moan as he slides into me, filling me up.
“I can’t help myself, kitten. I need to have you now.” Matteo grabs my hips as he thrusts into me again and again, turning me into a shuddering heap on the bed. “Did you forget what you’re supposed to call me?”