For a moment she's still, laying on the bed while resting on her side. Wouldn't most people feel vulnerable and exposed, trapped at another's mercy, naked when their partner is not?
But she's the one who told him to take off her clothes, and she's the one who showed him the length of crimson she'd brought for them to play with, and encouraged him to use it on her.
There's a sinuous way she moves her body once she's bound. Little rolls of her shoulders, a way of moving her thighs together, as if she can't help herself. She knows he needs a moment, needs to experience pleasure in his handiwork, that sense of power and control. It's like giving him a gift.
She looks up at him through her lashes. "What are you going to do with me now?"
The way she moves is intensely satisfying, and the funny thing is that he isn't even touching her yet, tempted as he is. Curious, there's a thought in the back of his mind to ask just what she wants him to do with her, since she's been leading the charge up to this moment.
But, as it stands, Lydia has made it clear who she wants to be in charge. The one who is tied up is never the one in charge. He brushes a finger over her skin, following the line of the rope down to her legs.
One of his eyebrows quirks up; he'd expected as much when she demanded he tie her up in the first place, but to hear it is another thing entirely. Lydia is usually the aggressive one, so seeing her like this is a big deviation from the norm. Gale likes it.
And he likes how she dares him to do something about the situation, how she leans into his hand as much as the ropes will allow. Leaning down, he catches her lips with his in a gesture that says he is up for the challenge, his other hand coming up to curl tightly into her hair.
Lydia loves Gale's mouth. The shape of it, the heat of his lips when they press against hers; his rare smiles. Kissing Gale is never something she takes for granted.
But as she nibbles on his lip, parts her mouth to curl her tongue against his, she can't help but pull away briefly to murmur in his ear, "Lots of place you could put that mouth of yours now that I can't do anything to stop you."
Again a roll of her shoulders; if there's any loosening of the bright red rope, it's subtle and perhaps not noticed.
"Somehow I don't think you would if you could," he shoots back, a smirk turning up the corner of his mouth. In retaliation, he bites at the spot where her shoulder meets her neck, running his tongue over it soothingly a moment later as he moves down, sucking and nipping at her skin.
She lets out a soft, pleased sound when his mouth meets her flesh. He's occupied, and she's worked to develop a slack on the length around her wrists. She just needs a few moments more.
But as distracted as he is, he's doing a fine enough job of distracting her from her own attentions, and as his mouth moves downward, her nipples start to become more pronounced in her anticipation, her body begging for his attention. It's difficult compartmentalizing when Gale is so devoted to keeping her in the present.
Progress is slow and gradual, with Gale taking his time so he doesn’t miss anything. He’s pressing down against her as he moves down, giving them both a little friction to benefit from, and his hands wander down, down, and further down, over her sides and hips and backside before going back up her thighs around her front, slowly inching closer to her center. His priority right now, however, is exploring her body with his mouth, and Gale is more than a little pleased to note the state of her breasts when he gets there, pulling one of her nipples gently between his teeth and rolling his tongue over it.
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But she's the one who told him to take off her clothes, and she's the one who showed him the length of crimson she'd brought for them to play with, and encouraged him to use it on her.
There's a sinuous way she moves her body once she's bound. Little rolls of her shoulders, a way of moving her thighs together, as if she can't help herself. She knows he needs a moment, needs to experience pleasure in his handiwork, that sense of power and control. It's like giving him a gift.
She looks up at him through her lashes. "What are you going to do with me now?"
no subject
But, as it stands, Lydia has made it clear who she wants to be in charge. The one who is tied up is never the one in charge. He brushes a finger over her skin, following the line of the rope down to her legs.
"Looks like I'm free to do whatever I want."
no subject
She lets her lashes half drop in pleasure when his finger slides along her leg and she shifts a little to tilt her body toward his hand.
"What do you want? I can't stop you. I don't want to stop you."
There's a faint hint of challenge in her tone.
no subject
And he likes how she dares him to do something about the situation, how she leans into his hand as much as the ropes will allow. Leaning down, he catches her lips with his in a gesture that says he is up for the challenge, his other hand coming up to curl tightly into her hair.
no subject
But as she nibbles on his lip, parts her mouth to curl her tongue against his, she can't help but pull away briefly to murmur in his ear, "Lots of place you could put that mouth of yours now that I can't do anything to stop you."
Again a roll of her shoulders; if there's any loosening of the bright red rope, it's subtle and perhaps not noticed.
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no subject
But as distracted as he is, he's doing a fine enough job of distracting her from her own attentions, and as his mouth moves downward, her nipples start to become more pronounced in her anticipation, her body begging for his attention. It's difficult compartmentalizing when Gale is so devoted to keeping her in the present.
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