Page 39 of Tempting Frankie
I bind her wrists together, then secure them above her head. The rope crisscrosses her torso, framing those breasts I love to suck on. I take extra care crafting an intricate harness around her mounds; the pressure making her nipples pucker enticingly.
Moving lower, I spread her thighs wide, binding each leg separately before securing them to the bedposts. The positionleaves her completely exposed; her glistening pussy on full display.
By the time I'm finished, Francesca is a work of art. The ropes accentuate every dip and swell of her body, leaving her bound and helpless in the center of the bed.
I stand back, admiring my handiwork. Francesca writhes against her bonds, testing their strength. The movement makes her jiggle enticingly, and my mouth waters at the sight.
Maintaining eye contact, I slowly unbutton my shirt. Francesca's gaze is hungry as I shrug it off, revealing my chest and abs. I toe off my shoes next, kicking them aside.
Now I stand before her in just my slacks, my erection still standing proudly out from the black fabric. Francesca's eyes are fixed on it, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.
“See something you like?” I tease.
She nods eagerly, straining against the ropes. “Please, Daddy,” she whimpers. “I need it.”
I smirk. “Oh, I know you do, baby girl. And Daddy's going to take such good care of you. You’re going to come with nothing but my name on your lips, baby. Nothing else. Nothing fucking else.”
I slide a silk blindfold over Francesca's eyes, plunging her into darkness. She lets out a soft gasp, her body tensing against the ropes.
“Shh,” I soothe, running my hands down her sides. “Just feel. Let everything else fade away.”
I trail kisses along her jaw, down her neck. My teeth graze her pulse point, and she moans, arching into me as much as the ropes allow.
“That's it,” I murmur against her skin. “You're doing so well for me. Such a good girl.”
My hands cup her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples. They pebble under my touch, and I pinch them lightly, savoring her sharp intake of breath.
“These were made for my hands,” I growl, kneading the soft flesh. “And only my hands.”
I lavish attention on each one, alternating between gentle caresses and firmer squeezes. When I take a nipple into my mouth, sucking hard, Francesca cries out.
“Please, Daddy!” she whimpers, straining against the ropes.
I chuckle darkly. “Patience, little one. We're just getting started.”
I pull away, admiring how she writhes in anticipation. Her slit glistens, begging for my touch. But not yet.
“Don't move,” I command, though the ropes make it impossible, anyway.
I stride to the table, retrieving the ice bucket. Francesca's head turns at the sound of clinking cubes, her brow furrowing beneath the blindfold.
“W-what are you doing?” she asks, a tremor in her voice.
“Trust me to take care of you,” I reply simply.
I pluck an ice cube from the bucket, rolling it between my fingers. Slowly, I trace it along her collarbone. Francesca gasps at the shock of cold, goosebumps erupting across her skin.
“Fuck!” she hisses through clenched teeth.
I drag the cube lower, circling one nipple then the other. They harden instantly, puckering into tight little buds. I follow the ice with my mouth, the contrast of cold and heat making Francesca twitch and moan.
“You taste so fucking good,” I growl, nipping at the underside of her breast. “Like you were made for my mouth.”
I trail the melting cube down her stomach, watching the muscles quiver beneath her skin. When I reach her mound, I pause.
“Color?” I ask, needing to check in.
“Green,” Francesca pants. “So fucking green.”
