Listen Through the Wall

love when it makes you lose your bearings

A/N: IMPORTANT: This chapter contains passive consent! The couple in this story know each other well, have an established relationship, and kink ground rules already laid. Consent is the most important part of kink play! Stay safe out there!
(This chapter also includes spanking, rope play, name calling and gagging.)

"Bil, have you seen my black Docs? The platform ones?"

I sighed; I was getting irritated, and she was still getting ready.

"It's just... dinner," I said for the thousandth time, pulling the Docs out from under her night stand. "Just dinner."

"Yeah, with your brother and his extremely hot girlfriend," Haleigh huffed, checking her mini dress in the mirror for the millionth time.

I licked my lips. She looked hot as hell in red, her long strawberry blonde waves thrown back over her shoulders. She'd parted her hair down the middle, then tucked both front pieces back in oversized clips. She ran her fingers over thick, perfectly styled brows, highlighted cheekbones, a moisturized, pouty mouth...

And her freckles. Those goddamn freckles drove me wild day in and day out. Naturally sprinkled over nearly every inch of her body, they highlighted anything that kissed the sun; her nose and cheeks first, then the tops of her shoulders, and dipping down, down below where anyone but I could see...

I reached out and ran my thumb over her shoulder blade, comfortably, like I'd done a thousand times.

"Baby, you've met them," I said quietly, trying to keep the edge of annoyance from my voice, and doing a terrible job. "We're all friends, and there's no need to impress. You look... fucking incredible. Now can we please go?"

For the first time, she stopped, one platform boot pulled on and zipped, the other dangling from delicate fingers. For one moment, I mildly questioned how much it would hurt to get whomped with a 3 inch platform Doc Marten combat boot, when she cleared her throat.

"Eyes here," she spat, pointing up at her light hazel orbs. I blinked up at them, and her gaze held me. It was the absolute first thing about her that had pulled me in; her irises had been a muted sage green that day, calm and relaxing. Some days they were a light, sparkling hazel, with facets of bright green and even golds. But when she was angry--

They were a dark, stormy mix of all of the above, kind of how they were now.

I did my best to reign in my ADHD, though my own eyes wanted to travel her curvy form once more; I sucked my lower lip in, and bit down, keeping my gaze locked on hers.

"Good job, daddy," she murmured, soft and low. I nearly cringed at the name, and pushed down the sudden urge to roll my eyes at her. "I take a long time to get ready, because I want to look my best for you."

Mouth suddenly fiercely dry, I swallowed, hard.

"Don't I look my best for you... daddy?"

This inquiry had me breaking eye contact, and now I gave her the study I really desired. I followed her freckles down her body, like an adult version of connect the dots, wishing like crazy that it was the end of the night. I found myself stuck along her line of cleavage, and the pillowy skin around it. Her dress had wide scarlett straps and a square neckline, and fit impossibly close to her tits, cinching in tightly and allowing her breasts to nearly spill out the top.

Her torso tucked neatly in at the waist, but she was, by no means, thin. No, my girl was truly thick, through and through; there was ample softness around her hips and ass for me to grab at, and I did, as much and as often as I could. Her thighs were like her cleavage; soft and pillowy, and they were some of the first things I reached for whenever we fell into bed together.