He gazes at her silhouette in front of the window -her skin tight black dress, sumptuous ass, and silky raven hair. Everything this woman is and does sparks a fire inside him.
She speaks. “The evening sky is a delicious shade of blood red.”
“Like your lovely lips, Cara Mia.”
“Tish, that’s French. You know that makes my blood boil!”
He rises from the bed of nails, but she doesn’t turn as he stands behind her and grabs her shoulders, digging in his fingers. As he inhales her hair she instinctively leans her head to the left to let his lips find her neck. They both tingle with longing at their connection; it’s always like the first time.
He trails his half suck half kisses down her shoulder and the length of her arm, atop her long lace sleeves. When he reaches her hand she cups his chiseled chin in her palm and lifts his head back to her neck. He grabs her hand from his face and quickly spins her around to look at him. They stare into each other’s eyes, but can’t fight the pull of their chemistry and their lips meet. The kiss grows in passion; tongues searching each other’s mouth.
Her hands rest at his face while his trace up and down her sultry figure. He grabs her knee and lifts it to his hip, then continues to slide his hand up her slit along her thigh to her ass; with one swift move he pulls her closer to feel his erection.
Around them it begins to storm outside. Thunder rumbles throughout the brick room while lightening seeps through the window of their playroom. “The night encourages us,” he gives her a devilish grin.
She unties his red velvet robe and slips it off his shoulders. Underneath, his bare chest heaves in anticipation. “Cara Mia.”
“Mon Cher.” Passion ignites in his eyes and he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close for another passionate kiss. She wraps her arms around his neck as he finds the zipper on her back and starts to pull it down. He slips the garment off her shoulders, kissing down her right arm as each inch of skin is exposed; the dress falls to her feet just as his lips reach her fingertips. He stands upright and admires her beautiful naked form. Her milky white skin glows in the pale light from the storm.
“What shall I do to you tonight, my dear?”
“Mmm,” she moans, “Remember Devil’s Isle?” He smirks and leans his head back at the memory.
Gently, he places his hands around her throat and begins to squeeze. She gasps, eyes closed, and he leans in to kiss her quivering lips. Cupping his face she breathes, “It must be that fiery Castilian blood in you that leaves me wanting.” Removing his hands from her throat, he pulls her close, pressing her bare breasts tightly against his skin, but then loosens his grip.
With a wave of his hand, he directs her to lie down on the wooden rack, and of course, she willingly complies after a curtsy. He kisses each of her beautiful wrists and ankles before tightening the thick brown leather straps. After she is secured he initiates cranking the gears, extending her limbs. She moans when taught.
He kisses her feet and sucks each of her toes, sending pleasurable tingles through her body, then he walks to the large upright lever and begins pulling to the left until the table stands upright so that she hangs upside down, her black hair pooling on the floor. He inhales, “I love the smell of anguish in the playroom.”
“I am only aching for you, Mon Cher.”
“Tish, you know what that does to me,” he starts kissing her shins. “You should be punished.” She smiles, still as pale as ever, seemingly void of the expected blood rush.
He drops his pants and tosses them and his house shoes aside, then rests his hands on the wood on either side of her knees; his erection just inches from her navel. He bends and lowers his head between her legs, sucking on her left thigh. His moustache tickles her and she giggles, but he doesn’t stop.
Not the submissive type, she tilts her head forward and swiftly grabs his tip into her mouth. He groans and thrusts himself deeper into her warm, moist throat. Her teeth just graze his shaft, but her lips stay hard pressed keeping the suction. She maneuvers her tongue like a snake slithering around him as he goes in and out, “Cara Mia.” His focus and concentration return to him and he kisses and bites her inner right thigh making his way down to her savory clit. His tongue circles and laps at it; it’s so pleasurable to hear her stifled moans.
He moves his hands and tightly grips her waist, sliding up to her ass and back down; her skin is so incredibly smooth. Pulling himself out of her mouth, he recedes to a dark corner of the room returning moments later with four throwing knives. A smile crosses her face. Quickly, he hurls them at each edge of the table. His beloved’s chest heaves in excitement, but she never flinches.
“No fear in you my darling?”
“I do love the anticipation that you may hit me,” she says in her low seductive voice.
“I’ll aim closer next time.” He growls, eyes hungry, and stance ready to ravish her, but he changes and instead finds the lever again. This time he pulls it in the opposite direction so that she is lifted head-upright. His eyes watch as her buoyant breasts shift; he wants this woman.
Standing in front of her, he gets as close to her face without touching her, their eyes lock. “My darling,” her breath heavy, “take me.” He grabs her hips and bites her bottom lip. “Now,” she pleads. He smiles and thrusts himself inside her; the feeling is welcoming, so warm and so wet and her scream is magnificent; everything he has needed. In and out he continues as he buries his head in her neck, biting and sucking in succession with each push deeper into her.
Thunder rumbles through their bodies. Her moans and cries of pleasure urge him faster, harder, until that spine tingling convulsion seizes them. Her breathing is ragged as she gazes into her lover’s eyes. “Oh, Gomez.”
“Tish,” he kisses her before resting his head on her shoulder, catching his breath.