dark promises

Part II: facing the consequences

Yaman heard Seher's soft moan from across the room, he was so attuned to her. He saw her reddened cheeks, the way she crossed her legs as she stood, how she braced against the wall.

Her eyes glued to the arrow he held within his grasp.

Yaman was as hard as steel for her—his length pushing against his black slacks as if trying to reach the woman who made him like this.

She was aching for him and so was he.

"So, you're not going to tell me where you went today?" Yaman kept his voice stern as he regarded the woman who was getting more and more aroused, watching his play with the nub of the arrow. He kept rubbing his finger back and forth, imaging it being her clit and then her hardened nipples that were currently pushing against her white t-shirt.

His eyes zeroed in on her heaving breasts and he swore he could almost taste her skin. He ached to suckle them—pulling out more sultry sounds from her. He had brought himself to come imagining doing just this more times than he could count.

Yaman thought the sounds she made the night they kissed were music to his ears. These new illicit sounds heated his blood until all he could have seen was her spread out in front of him for his use.

She liked watching him misuse this arrow, no, she loved it.

"Seher, come here," Yaman gave her a devilish look and he used the arrow, directing her to stand in front of him. She huffed and stayed where she stood.

"Answer my question," she breathed out. "Is that all I am to you?" Yaman loved it when she disobeyed him, it made him think of ways that he could get her to bend to his will, a way that involved the very arrow in his hands.

"Come here and I will tell you," he growled. Seher let go of her hold on the wall and walked towards him with extremely slow but sure steps, it was like she wanted to try his already thin patience. Seher finally stopped right by his feet—she was so close he felt the tips of her nipples graze his chest with each rapid intake of her breath.

Yaman was so hard for her, he needed to touch her. He took a step closer until the front of their bodies were crushed together, making Seher feel his hardened dick that was pressed against her soft stomach.

Yaman felt smug satisfaction as she sucked in a breath.

"You know you are more to me, you are mine," he growled the last word to her—forming coherent sentences was getting harder by the second. Her scent of vanilla and lemon surrounded him, hiking his own arousal to unparalleled levels.

"You are mine, but Seher, you did something wrong by not telling me you were leaving and for coming back so late. You need to be punished. Don't you agree?"

"Punished?" Seher asked in a soft voice. Yaman saw the excitement that lit her eyes at the wonder of what said punishment could be that he had in mind for her, but he had to make sure she would be fine with what he had planned. He lifted the arrow he had in his hand and ran the sharp tip against the side of her face—watching her eyes flutter shut. She exhaled a long breath as he ran it over her narrow neck.

Seher opened her eyes in confusion when he removed the arrow, but Yaman saw the truth; Seher wanted him to continue touching her, caressing her with it. Yaman flipped it in his hand with the blunt tip and feathers facing her.

He pulled Seher closer to him with one hand and felt her body relax against him as he ran the blunt, feathered tip down her back.

"Yes, Seher, punished," he poised the arrow at her ass and brought it down hard. She flinched in his arms, but she released a moan so loudly, he had to push her face into his chest, so no one heard her throaty sounds. Her knees gave out as he lashed her again with the body of the arrow.