Page 92 of The Replay

"Fuck," I mutter.

She's tying my hands. With my belt.

"Will you be good?" she whispers at my back.

"Always."

More rustling. Silk covers my eyes. She's blindfolding me with her nightgown.

I scoff. "So evil."

"Did I say you can complain?"

I lick my lips as I consider. "Can I complain?"

"Yes, but only because I love to torment you, and hearing what I make you feel."

"You make me feel a lot, Mariana."

She leads me to her room, a hand on my bound wrists, with a vibe between us that paints her as a guard taking me to my cell for the night. Except I'm only happy to be her prisoner, if she'll do the kind of things to me she used to love.

A soft edge hits my legs, and I know I'm standing against her bed.

"I want you on your best behavior," she says.

"As you wish."

"Kneel on the bed."

I do.

"Do you remember our rules, Dom?"

"I told you I do."

"List them to me.

I gulp. "We can be rough. We can push. We both get a chance to take over. But when one of us is running the show, the other one listens."

I'm hard again. My chest feels raw with vulnerability, exposed as I am and kneeling on her bed, but unable to see a thing. Helpless. Under her control.

She plasters herself against me. Her arms come around me, and her hands handle my cock again.

"Go on," she says.

"We can stop it at any time." My voice rasps out of my throat. "And if we say no, or stop, or anything like that, the other has to listen. So we don't say that unless we mean it."

My vocal cords struggle the more I try to speak, and the more she plays with my dick. I moan but, when she retreats and leaves me cold and alone without her touch, it turns to a protest.

The push of her hands on my back leave me face down on the mattress and disoriented.

"Shit," I mumble onto her comforter.

I try to adjust my position but she climbs on top of me and stops me.

She speaks to my ear. "We always matched so well."

She kisses behind my ear, the back of my neck, and on my shoulder. She licks down my shoulder blade, then the spot between them. I shiver. Her lips journey over my tattoos, spending some time where her flowers are, but I can't think about it too much. She's moving away, to my side.