I blink rapidly against the sight of the object hanging from between his fingers, suddenly unable to breathe.


Holy crap…


Shit. Just. Got. Real.


My heart gallops in my chest, and the realization that this is actually about to happen comes crashing down on me like a thunderstorm. Up until this very moment, I hadn’t realized just how unprepared I was, how unready for the reality of this arrangement I still am.


I find myself backing away from him, moving toward the bed almost instinctively, but the action is one born of anxiety—of fear—instead of obedience. But the result is the same, silently resigning myself to literally lying in the bed that I’ve made. I climb on top, shaking uncontrollably as my knees meet the comforter.


“Face the wall,” he orders, the intensity of his eyes matching his voice.


Oh, Jesus


My head damn near floats right off my body at those words, and I feel my chest constrict as I assume the position. My eyes slam shut momentarily as my heart pulses like a timed bomb, one more command away from exploding.


Frost walks up to the side of the bed, and impulsively, I look over my shoulder, watching as he steps out of his shoes, but he keeps the rest of his clothes on as he mounts it. I feel the mattress dip under his weight, and then I feel him behind me even before my eyes can confirm it, the heat radiating from his clothed body even though it isn’t touching mine.


“Grab the headboard,” he says.


Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit!


Before I can react, his arms reach out over mine, grabbing both my hands from either side in his. In a few swift, firm motions, he slides the leather cuffs around my wrists, fastening the buckles harshly and then securing the chain-link to the headboard. My mouth parts in silent disbelief, watching him literally bind me to the bed, so dumbfounded that I can’t even protest his rough handling. Or perhaps, I don’t see the point.


His fingers dig into my wrists intentionally, circling over the leather bands and squeezing. The pressure feels simultaneously good and bad, and my head buzzes from the conflicting sensation. The cuffs do little to pacify the pressure of his hands on mine, amplified by the already present and still raw bruises on them from last night. While they are far more comfortable than their predecessors, he strapped them on pretty tightly, and their super snug fit ensures I can barely move my hands.


He brings his lips to my ear.


“It’s important that you know…” he says, one hand trailing up my forearm, sliding up my shoulder slowly while the other remains firmly around my wrist, “though I have explicit permission to touch you however I please for the duration of our contract, the same is not true for you.”


Rock-hard goosebumps explode all over me, instantly appearing everywhere he touches me, his fingers creating a trail of fire in their wake despite the slow, lazy strokes. His knuckles graze the side of my neck almost seductively, curving into my nape and brushing a few stray strands of my hair away…


Before he roughly grabs a fist full of it.


“Aaahhh!!!” I cry out, my heart leaping into my stomach, startled beyond measure.


“So let this be the last time that I tell you this: You do not have permission to touch me unless I say so. You don’t get to take fucking liberties with me, Ramona,” he sneers, his grip tightening for emphasis, pulling my head back and forcing my chin up, “so there’ll be none of that hair-pulling you did downstairs.”


My scalp buzzes and tingles with blood rush, and my chest heaves with the effort of breathing in this restricted position, but the added reference to having my pussy in his mouth makes me visibly shake beneath him.


With his hand still gripping my hair, the other suddenly lets go of my wrist…only to pull at the drawstrings of his sweats.


The sound is unmistakable.


Frost’s hold on me ensures that I can’t physically move my head to see what I’m positive he’s doing, but I’m not sure I would dare to even if I could.


Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…


The bed rises and dips briefly, followed by slight shuffling. My chest vibrates with each shallow inhale, my breathing stuttered and broken, as if I don’t know how to anymore.


And then…I feel it.


Almost immediately, the head of his cock nudges against my nether lips insistently. My eyes flutter rapidly against the indescribable sensation of the blunt, swollen flesh of his tip over my pussy, shamelessly coating itself with my juices. New moisture liberally exits my core at the lewd act, and I feel it running onto his dick as my back arches involuntarily, pushing my ass against his hips in return.


I lick my bottom lip nervously before biting down on it, the impulsive, almost timid action all I can do to brace myself for what I know is coming next.



Series Navigation<< Doctor-Patient Confidentiality: Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-EightDoctor-Patient Confidentiality: Chapter One Hundred and Forty >>
  • Fascinated
  • Happy
  • Sad
  • Angry
  • Bored
  • Afraid

Leave A Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.