Free Black Ink by N.M. Catalano

lay on your back.”
    My heart is pounding in my ears.  I’m so scared and so turned on, I can’t think.  But I do what he tells me to.
    “Good girl,” I hear him whisper.
    Shockingly the praise makes my heart skip.
    “Raise your arms over your head, Gemma, together.  I’m going to tie your wrists.”
    My breathing is fast and my mouth is dry.  I do as he asks, slowly raising my arms over my head.  Everything is magnified because of the darkness I’m in.  The touch of his fingers on my skin, moving so softly with a feather light touch, sends shivers through me.  He glides them up one side, then over my breasts, my mouth, the blindfold, down my neck, shoulder, side, the curve of my hip, then up the inside of my thigh.  Both his hands travel down my legs until he’s at my ankles, his grip wrapping lightly around them. 
    “Such a good girl, Gemma.”
    He places open mouth kisses on the tops of my feet then the arch, one foot then the other, as I feel the slip of fabric encircling my ankles,
    There’s nothing but blackness and his voice, the bed underneath me, the feel of the ties around my ankles, and the tingling in my skin where he touched me.  Then the sound of his clothes rustling.  I know he’s getting naked.  My eyes fly open behind the blindfold but there’s nothing.  The sound of his zipper ignites a trail of nerves straight down my body stopping right between my thighs.  The bed dips and creaks and I know it’s from the weight of his body.  My breathing is ragged meeting the pounding of my heart.  The image my mind’s eye sees is Black, confident, intimidating, coming in for the kill.  It’s all erotically overwhelming and scary as hell.
    The faceless man grips my ankles firmly but doesn’t move.  His hold begins to unbelievably calm and ground me with the surety of his touch. 
    “Trust me Gemma,” I hear through the whooshing noise of my blood pumping through my body inside my head.
    He might have broken in my house, subdued me and is tying me up.  Something tells me he’s not going to hurt me.  I know in my heart in some sick way I can trust him.  What I can’t admit it is that I want to.
    I close my eyes.  My focus is drawn to where our bodies are joined with his hands on my body, the spot throbbing, wanting more.  I take a deep breath and tip my head back.
     
    Alexander
    That was the moment she submitted.  When she exhaled, freeing her body with the simple tip of her head, she let go.
    She is mine to do what I want. 
    I realize I must go slow and gain her trust.  It’s a lot for a strong and intelligent woman to find a strange man in her house taking her sexually.  It’s a hell of a lot more to make her want it. 
    She’s just handed me that trust.  It’s up to me to show her she made the right choice.  I have no doubt that I will. 
    My grip tightens around her ankles, “I’m going to slide up your body now, Gemma, and bind your wrists.”
    “No,” she responds automatically.
    “Yes, pet,” I say as I begin the slow ascent up her body, beginning with my hands moving up the insides of her thighs. 
    Her hands jerk down to stop me.  I stop her from shooting up from the mattress with a hand at the center of her chest.
    “Ssssshhh, Gemma.  Don’t touch me or I’ll stop.”
    The statement freezes her as I thought it would.
    “Grab the headboard and hold on tight.  Don’t let go.”
    I see her small hands move slowly back to where they were over her head and her fingers curl around the brass.
    Returning both my hands to her thighs, I squeeze the meaty flesh.
    “First, I have to have a small taste.  Keep your hands there Gemma,” I warn her.
    My tone barely goes above a whisper.  I can’t risk her recognizing my voice, or feeling my face and seeing my features with the touch of her hands.
    My mouth is already watering when I dip my head between her legs and take a long slow swipe over her glistening pink lips.  I’ve been waiting for this since I