Desperate [m/f] [BDSM]

He walks back into the room, and finds her exactly as he left her. Tied up, blindfolded, a wet spot on the sheets between her legs. Helpless.

He brushes a hand over her arm and she stirs at his touch. He trails it up her arm, then down her body, between the valley of her breasts. She arches into him.

He pulls away.

She whimpers in protest, but stops when Sir squeezes her thigh.

“Little slut,” he says, his breath tickling her neck. “You just couldn’t help yourself could you? Making a mess of the sheets while you wait for me.”

He simultaneously pinches a nipple, hard, and slides his hand between her legs.

She grinds desperately against him, trying to get any friction, needing it.

But he holds himself just far enough away that all she can do is work herself up even more.

“Look at you.” He croons. “So fucking desperate that you’ll do anything for me, and I was only gone for a few minutes. Imagine how you’d react of I left you along for longer…”

She whimpers again.

“Good girl,” he praises, but pulls himself away at the same time. She squirms a little, only stopped when he straddles her hips and his weight presses her down.

Then, she holds utterly still. Breathless.

He grinds against her softly, teasingly, making sure she can feel every single inch on his erection.

She arches into him again. She can’t help herself.

He chuckles.

“You want this inside you, don’t you?”

She nods frantically.

“Say it.”

“I want it inside me, Sir. I… I need it.” She begs softly.

He strokes her cheek.

“Such a good girl” he whispers, and shifts himself back between her legs. He teases her entrance slowly, sensually.

God, she’s so wet. He believes her when she says she needs him.

He slides his tip inside, and she gasps at the feeling. Then deeper, deeper, establishing a slow, rocking rhythm.

“Faster,” she moans.

He grabs her hair, tugs on it. “Excuse me?” He demands.

A pause.

“Sorry Sir. Faster please, Sir.”

He maintains the same pace for a while, and his grip on her hair, just so she remembers who’s in charge. Then he relents and fucks her properly.

Hard, deep, pounding into her until she’s begging, for more or for mercy she could barely say. They’re both the same to her, anyway. She wouldn’t want anything less than him inside her, using her like she was made to be.

He plays with her clit, stroking it until he finds a rhythm that makes her beg him not to stop. So he doesn’t. He wants his toy to cum, be his completely in this moment. He watches her tense, feels her tighten around him, her whole body completely in his thrall.

She whispers, “I’m going to…”

“Cum for me,” he moans it, but it is still all command.

She convulses around him, crying out his name.

He waits for her to calm before he ups his tempo again. He’s railing her, as deep as he can, thrusting fast, his body now over hers, clutching at her like she is his salvation.

“Beg Sir to cum for you.”

She does; ‘Please Sir I need it’ interspersed with moans and mindless need.

He thrusts inside her one last time and finishes with a groan.

They lay together, breathing heavily for a short while. He kisses her neck and pulls out, leaving a trail of cum along her thigh. He cleans it tenderly and removes the rope and blindfold. He joins her back in bed, and they cuddle drowsily.

“Thank you,” he whispers into her ear.

She snuggles closer.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ueby89/desperate_mf_bdsm