The blindfold’s darkness is total. The handcuffs’ chain scrapes against the bed’s iron frame, the bracelets cold against her slender wrists.
The bed creaks as he kneels down between her trembling thighs. His steady palms glide up her legs, past her stocking tops. The touch of his flesh against hers electrifies her.
She smells his maleness, hears his excitement, senses his ravenous eyes devouring her near-nakedness.
His powerful hand settles over the front of her meagre panties. He grips the waistband and pulls, the fabric tearing like tissue paper.
“You’re mine now,” he says roughly.
It’s true.
She shivers deliciously.
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