The Mammoth Book of Erotica Presents

Slowly, he drew a line around each wrist.

Her arms trembled with the sheer intensity of sensation that shot along the surface of her skin, and deeper.

“Shackles.” His voice was a murmur close to her. “Because I want you to be mine.” He kissed her throat and then, slowly, with great deliberation, he signed his name right across her breastbone.

“Oh. Oh, oh,” she cried. The intense sensation shot beneath her skin, wiring her whole body into the experience. Her nipples were hard and hurting. She shuddered with a

rousal, her toes curling under, her heart thudding against the wall of her chest.

His next move came out of nowhere. He drew along the crease at the top of one thigh, then the other. The sudden deep stimulation in a place so sensitive primed her for release. She longed to see his marks on her.

“The insides of your thighs are wet, right down to here.” There was admiration in his voice. Restraint, too. He touched her with the pen, briefly, between her thighs, and it made her squirm up against the wall.

“Face the wall,” he instructed, his voice husky.

She turned.

His cock brushed against her buttock. “There’s a box to your left, step onto it.”

She moved her foot, felt her way. He guided her up onto the box.

“Offer yourself to me.”

Understanding hit her; he was going to fuck her there up against the wall, while she stood there on a box, blindfolded. This was Doug; this is how he liked to have her, to be in charge of her. Hands braced against the wall, she spread her feet, angling her bottom up and out.

“Oh yes, I like you this way, on a pedestal, all ready for me.” His cock moved between her thighs.

The box put her right at the height he needed to glide up into her. Anticipation had her in its grip. She was breathing so fast she felt dizzy. Picturing the shackles he had drawn on her wrists, she splayed her fingers on the wall, knowing she’d need to anchor herself – he got kind of wild when he was inside her. He was humming again now, and she wondered what he’d done with the pen. Was it in his mouth while he arranged her to his satisfaction?

He stroked her pussy, opening her up. His fingers moved with ease, slick, sliding in against her wetness. With two digits, he opened her up to his cock. The intensity of being felt, held, and displayed that way on a pedestal all at once took her breath away. With one hand around her hips, he thrust the thick shaft of his erection inside her.

Where is his other hand? The thought echoed around her mind frantically.

Then she found out.

Even as he thrust into her, in shallow quick maneuvers, keeping her in place, he began to write down her spine with his free hand.

It was almost too much. Her shoulders wriggled and her pussy twitched on his shaft. Her stomach flipped and sweat broke out on her skin. She would have staggered, if he hadn’t got her pinned by his cock. She panted out loud, her mouth opening, her body clenching on him rhythmically.

“Oh yes, that’s good,” he said, keeping the pen moving in around her spine, working his way down her back. “This makes you so wild, you’re going to squeeze my cock until I come.”

“Can’t control it,” she whispered, head hanging down.

“That’s the way I like it,” he grunted.

By the time the pen reached her tailbone, she was a panting wreck on the verge of climax. He drew a wobbly heart there at the base of her spine, following the shape around and around with his pen. The action and her response were mesmerizing, and when her climax hit it lasted long, easing off only to return in a rush when he grew rigid and jerked, coming deep inside her.

They stayed that way until his cock finally slid free, and then he untied the blindfold and lifted her into his arms, carrying her toward the bathroom.

She squinted up at him, clinging to him. Kissing his shoulder, his throat, and when he turned toward her, his mouth, she felt grateful to have found her perfect opposite. She was still trembling from the intensity of her release.

“This is one of my favorite parts, scrubbing you down afterward, my dirty girl.”

“It gets you going again,” she teased, smiling at him.

“You’re not wrong there.”

Inside the bathroom, he stood her on the bath mat, and reached for the taps. While the bath filled, he traced his finger across her chest, following the line of his name that he had written there earlier. “So, you’ll move in with me?”