Holding back

She led him back to the bed, still blindfolded, and made him get on it, lying in the centre, face up.

She attached his cuffed wrists to the corners of the bed, sliding her naked body across him, leaning on him, enjoying the feel of his skin under hers. She moved down his body and put ankle cuffs on him, spreading his legs wide, attaching them to the ropes at the bottom of the bed. When he was spreadeagled and bound, she sat back and looked at him. He looked incredible; lean-muscled, strong, vulnerable, sightless, helpless. And his cock was beautiful, not a word she generally applied to cocks, but there it was, hard, perfect, beautiful.

She slid her body up his, tender, stroking him with her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, his body reaching for more of her. He knew, knew, that she would want to kiss him, and she saw him anticipate her with his mouth and she moaned silently deep in her throat at his gently opening lips, his face tilting up to her.

Instead, though, she touched his skin elsewhere with her mouth, not even tasting, just touching her lips to him, his pale nipples, the outline of his ribs, his navel, his ridged stomach, the hollows at his hips, taking her time, soft. She lifted her mouth from him and suddenly licked his cock hard from base to head and he grunted in surprise and pleasure, his body involuntarily arching up to her. She looked quickly up into his face. His mouth was open, his neck tensed, a grimace on his face. She pressed her pussy against his leg, her wetness against his skin. She licked his cock once more and let his reaction wash over and into her. She wanted to growl and bite and scratch and mark him, but held herself back and was terrifyingly, frustratingly gentle with him.

She smiled, unseen by him. Now this… this was going to be fun…