So maybe your life is in shambles and you run away to London to get your head straight. Sure, you don't really have a plan but the Universe does, and before you know it, some kid from Kingston has completely turned your world upside and your body i...
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Tom ripped his face out of your grip and stared at you seething.
"Untie me," he said.
You thought about that for a second, then something occurred to you.
"Okay, wait, timeout -we need a safe word. How about 'spaghetti'?" you nodded.
Tom's demeanor changed immediately. He raised his eyebrows at you, "Why 'spaghetti'?"
"Because you like spaghetti? I don't know..," you shrugged. So did he.
"Okay, that's settled. Back in character," you clapped.
His face grew dark again and sweet, dorky Tom disappeared.
"Untie me," he repeated.
You hand slipped into his trousers again, gripping him tightly. You leaned in, placing your lips against his ear.
"You seem to think you're the one in charge here," you said, your voice hushed, barely a whisper.
Your grip turned to slow, deliberate strokes. He started groaning. You smiled at that, eyeing him closely. He was just so handsome when he was being tortured.
His legs started to move beneath you, stretching out, then back in . He lifted his hips and started sliding off the chair. You pressed all your weight down, pinning his thighs against the seat.
"Now where do you think you're going?" you asked, releasing your grip to poke a finger in his chest.
"Let me go," he growled. His brow was furrowed so intensely, for a second there, he had you convinced.
That furrowed brow also turned you the fuck on. This foreplay was just as much torture for you.
"I don't think you're going anywhere," you said and finally slid down onto him. And fuck, it was totally worth the wait.
Tom closed his eyes and leaned his head back slowly, giving another low groan. You grabbed his chin again and shook it slightly.
"Look at me," you ordered.
He grinned slowly and did just as he was told. And boy did he look at you. He looked at you like a starving man looked at a steak. He licked his lips. He bit his lip. He ate you up with his eyes.
You kissed those hungry lips, your hips grinding faster against him. The legs of the chair tapped against the wooden floor with each push. Tap..tap..tap..tap.
Tom's tongue roamed inside your mouth, pulling and pushing against yours. His arms kept jerking and flinching in their bonds, and each time he did, his hips would rise and he'd shove himself deeper. Tap.tap.tap.tap.
You moaned against his lips, both hands buried deep in his curls. He responded with a low 'fuck' against yours.
Suddenly, you stopped and stood up, backing away slowly.
