Free Best Bondage Erotica 2012 by Rachel Kramer Bussel

script.
    â€œI’ll do anything.”
    It’s like a penny dropping down a well. It takes forever until her voice is the clank that dissipates the confused silence. Yet I stare into the blackness of my mind and I hold on to hope. Because I do love her—and she brings me some sense of peace. When I look up, her delicate fingers are wrapped in a harsh grip around her wineglass stem and the edges of her flesh are pale. Red wine’s always been her security blanket. And there’s no doubt she’s weakening. I dip my fingers down to casually trace my décolletage, a lingering taunt to my growing sexual buzz. She started this thing. I won’t let this moment pass me by without using it.
    â€œOkay.”
    That’s all I get.
    But when her hand slides up my inner thigh under the table,
despite the trepidation in her fingers, I can’t help meeting her blue eyes and answering her smile. Her gaze sparks with ownership, despite what her words told me. My pussy floods with anticipation while my heart stumbles. It shouldn’t be this easy.
    There’s a quiet, safe place inside me, where it’s bare-bones pleasure and silence that seeps into my mind, so I don’t have a worry in the world. Marley holds the key to that part of myself that doesn’t escape during my nine-to-five. When her small hand pops into the air and she calls for the check I can’t catch my breath. Stars sparkle under my closed eyelids. But her other hand’s still tightly clasped on my thigh. And I wouldn’t move it for the world.
    She drags me by the hand out into the chilly November night, only to press me up against the uneven brick wall in a back alley. Public canoodling is an unexplored fetish. Before I can groan, she grabs both my wrists in one hand and shoves them above my head, until I writhe against her hot little body. Her gaze glints dangerously in the night, a contrast to her sweet scent that envelops my nose, and her little, lopsided grin. What will she do next?
    Her lips explore the sensitive flesh of my neck and I shudder at the danger of discovery. I quickly scan the darkness: nothing, no distraction from our dark descent. Marley bites my collarbone, obliterating all thoughts, and my lower abdomen twists for her brand of pleasure, with a need to be filled with her fingers. Trapped against the cool, rough brick, I’ll gladly be her bitch. Her thigh pushes between my legs and I gladly open them for the promise of friction that dampens my panties.
    â€œI’m gonna have my way with you,” she taunts and roughly grabs my breast, tweaking my peaked nipple until I muffle a moan. “Tonight you’re mine to do with what I like, does that please you?”

    â€œYes, Mistress,” I gasp as her hand shoves up my skirt and she cups my barely covered pussy with her icy palm.
    â€œThat’s what I like to hear,” she purrs in my ear, her fingers tightening on my wrists until I’m bucking into her hand, seeking release.
    One of her fingers slips over my slickness and flicks my panties aside to trace the seam of my labia before dipping into my cunt. God, it’s not enough and she knows it. She screws me slowly with one finger until I’m humping her hand and a slow build of pleasure buzzes through my brain. It’s a fucking tease. There isn’t even any pressure on my clit because she’s strategically keeping the rest of her hand away from my heated flesh. Just as I come close she pulls out, leaving me null and void. Without fail she always knows what I need—even if I don’t want it.
    â€œWe’re leaving now.” She steps away from me and starts walking.
    She knows I’ll be right behind, thighs clenched together and juices slick against my skin.
    Â 
    This is hardly the first time I’ve seen her place. All dark, warm wood, black and dove-gray paint. Nor is it the first time she’s led me on my hands and knees through her doorway