There was a moment where he changed.
A sudden metamorphosis as if I had flicked a switch.
From passive acceptance to aggressive greed.
I felt small changes in his body before I realised what was coming.
Muscles that had been relaxed tensed below me, small movements at first, he pulled at his bindings, quietly straining at the ropes that held his wrists firm, some slight shifting of position. A testing to see if I would stop him.
And when I didn’t, he moved.
His body arched up off the bed towards me, seeking contact. His ankles were untied by then, he took advantage, used his legs to force his body up to crash into me. All muscle and hardness trying to wrap me up and pull me against him. I moved with him, just out of his reach, staying raised above him, letting his body hang off me when his legs found purchase around me.
He writhed and thrashed under me, wild and hot and desperately reaching for more of me, pulling hard at the cuffs that attached him to the bed frame, the strength of him breathtaking. My mouth clashed with his, his neck craning for more of that too when I pulled away.
When I dropped my body onto him, my legs gripping his quad, my hip against his cock, my cunt hot against his thigh, then he would breath again, letting the contact between us be enough, his body releasing some tension, his hips pulsing against me, silently willing me to stay flush and hard up against him, skin against skin. Small sounds between us, warm shared breath, some softness in the kissing, fingers tightly entwined in connection, a strength of grip that belied the scene of gentle sweetness.
When I lifted my body up again, I could see the flash of frustration play across his face, replaced quickly by that same set of his jaw, the gentleness in his face morphing into an expression of grim determination. He readied himself for more.
My god. So hot.