Page 16 of Agency
I couldn’t help but smile as my hand left his twill-clad cock, and I began to work his belt buckle.
“Do you need—?”
“Shhhhhh,” I said, cutting him off as I finished undoing his belt and pulled the strip of black leather from the loops with a hiss. Going up on tip-toes, I kissed him, hard. Forcefully. With enough eagerness and earnestness that I knew he wouldn’t pay attention to what my hands were doing.
As we made out, my hands worked Morgan’s belt, sight unseen, into my next little subversive surprise. Trust me, there’s amazing things one can do with everyday objects around the house.
The longer we kissed, and the more I sucked and teased his tongue, the harder he fought to resist touching me. I could feel the tension in him, the tamped down want and need struggling to get out. Finally, his will broke, and he moved his hands into my hair. Strong, work-rough fingers tangled in my red tresses, pulling me deeper and deeper into our kiss.
I didn’t pull back.
I didn’t chastise him.
I simply reached up, even as I kissed him deeper in return, and gently removed his hands from my hair. I brought them down between us and pressed his wrists together. Sucking his tongue again and flicking the tip with my own, I slipped the newly double-looped belt over his hands and tightened the makeshift cuffs.
Our kiss broke, and his earlier almost-grin became an almost-grimace. “Hey,” he said, almost dreamily, as he glanced down between us to the belt-cuffs binding his hands together. His own belt-cuffs. “What the fuck?”
“You didn’t keep your hands to yourself like I instructed,” I said. “What did you think was going to happen?”
“This, though?” he asked, struggling against his bonds, testing their strength. He’d be able to eventually work his way out if he really needed to. “What the fuck, Carmen?”
“Was that too far?” I asked, dead serious. “You can tell me to stop, if you like. You still have your safe word, and you should use it if you’re uncomfortable.”
“No… No, I just…”
“Did you want me to spank you instead? Put you in timeout? Some other form of punishment? Because this at least prevents you from disobeying me, which I think might be an ongoing problem.”
“No… No, I…” Brow furrowed and eyes narrowed, he struggled against the bonds once more, but with less obvious force than before. “Look, I’m just usually the one tying people up, that’s all.”
I couldn’t tell if that last part was sexual, or simply related to his previous work. Either way, I smiled. “So, you’re saying it’s a change of pace for you?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“Feels like,” I said, hand slipping back down below his waist to his still solidly rock-hard cock, “it’s a welcome one.”
“It’s… It’s different.” He swallowed again as I looked up into his eyes. A mix of emotions hid there. Want, desire, uncertainty, need, lust, excitement.
“Not bad, though. Just different.”
“Different can be good,” I said, stepping up to him, my hand still stroking his cock through his pants. I pressed my body to his, forming myself to him so that his cuffed hands pressed into my belly. My hand, still snaked between us, slid from his cock to the fastener on his pants.
“Different can be very good. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, mistress,” he said, his words as soft as when he’d had me in his arms down in the hotel lounge, and his breath coming faster and faster. “Yes, I’d definitely agree.”
“Good,” I said, my voice matching his own as I looked up to him, my fingers drawing down his zipper. “Very good.” Mouth upturned to his, and only a bare fraction of an inch away, I slid the tips of my fingers back up to his underwear’s waistband. “How about this?” I asked as I slid my flesh over his, back and forth, teasing.
“Is this acceptable? Not pushing any limits, am I?”
“No,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “No, mistress.”
“Good,” I said, my fingers slipping past the elastic, then delving down through his sparse, trimmed hair, till I found the hot, thrumming, desperate root of the cock I’d been craving since first seeing him back at the dive bar. “Very good.”
He sucked in a sharp breath as my hand slid over him, wrapped him fully, and a tremble ran through his sturdy, muscle-bound body, as if he were nothing but a cube of chilled gelatin.
“Do you like that?” I asked, my mouth so close to his that he could probably better feel my words on his lips, than hear them with his ears. “Do you like feeling my soft hand on your thick cock?”
Nodding, he swallowed, and I could tell he was fighting back a groan of a pleasure.
