Sweet Torture

Story Info
A little trust and silk scarves go a long way.
7.7k words
4.64
70.3k
55
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

"Now you've got yourself into a bind."

I snorted softly. It was a very unladylike sound, but at the moment, the only thing I could think about was what would happen next. Had he really read between the lines of all of our Emails? The online chats? The late night phone calls? Maybe I should have been more subtle. That's what all the magazines said, right? Guys needed to be told what to do.

"Relax, Kenzie."

The whisper against my ear made me jump. "Easy for you to say, Damien."

"Shh. I'll be right back."

I took a deep breath and slowly blew it out, licking my dry lips. Had it only been an hour ago when I'd had the control? Or at least the option to walk away?

I heard him moving around the room, the TV turning back on...realizing he was waiting for me to get comfortable. I closed my eyes—not that it would matter since I couldn't see anyway through the blindfold—and thought back to earlier tonight...

###

I raised my cell phone and exhaled. My finger hovered over the SEND button, my eyes glued to the two words on the screen: I'M HERE. I took another deep breath and sealed my fate, praying that my nerves would settle so I wouldn't feel nauseous anymore.

There was no turning back now.

The sound of a toilet flushing drowned out the ringing of a phone nearby. A heartbeat later, the door across from me opened, and my nerves magnified.

"Are you going to stand out there all night?" The smooth, deep voice came from the backlit doorway.

Damien.

I didn't have to close my eyes to imagine him anymore. His wide shoulders towering a foot over me, draped in an untucked button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His obsidian eyes staring down into mine with a glossy look. His large hands gripping the frame and the door as he leaned into the hall toward me.

Our last—and first—encounter had been at a gangster/flapper-themed dance a week prior. My own stomping grounds, my own friends, my own comfort zone. It had been easy to fall for his charms, the way he held me close when we'd slow danced. The way he'd tilted my fedora back in the parking lot before kissing me softly, his fingers barely touching my cheek. The way he'd whispered in my ear that my decision to dress gangster had turned him on. My knees had buckled when he'd pressed up against my hip, proving his arousal.

It took all of my strength to function the next seven days, especially at work. Our late-night chats on the phone and Internet did not help. So why was I so scared? He was handing me the moment I'd been fantasizing about ...

"Kenzie?" He propped the door and stepped fully into the hall now, the corners of his mouth turned down. "You okay?"

I backed against the wall, gripping my overnight bag on my shoulder.

It's a mistake. I shouldn't have come. What was I thinking? Wait, I wasn't thinking. I—

His fingers brushed my cheek as he lifted my chin. "It's okay. Don't be scared."

"Who me?" My voice sounded shaky, and nowhere near confident, even though I smiled.

His frown deepened. Concern and disappointment battled within his dark eyes. "Do you not want to do this?"

"I do. I'll be fine."

I pushed away from the wall, marching into the lion's den. The door shut loudly behind me, making me jump as I took in the surroundings. It was a standard hotel room with the bathroom to the left, clothing rod in an alcove to the right, and a wide-open suite ahead with two lamps and a digital clock on small tables flanking the lone bed. A couch, table, two chairs, and a low dresser with a TV bolted on top finished off the furniture pieces.

Nothing fancy. But then, it wasn't a special occasion. Well, not one that you'd rent a luxurious hotel room for, like for a honeymoon.

A soft snort escaped on the last thought. No, nothing important like that.

There was a tug on my arm, and I blinked. My eyes rose to meet his, and his gentle smile eased some of the tension.

"Let me take your bag."

I released my grip on the strap, watching him set the duffle bag on the dresser beside the flashing but silent TV screen. He pressed a button on the casing, and the screen went black. Now it really was just the two of us.

Small sounds seemed amplified. The soft hiss of the air conditioning unit. The buzz of the light above our heads. The clunking of ice in the machine just outside the room. The gurgle of water in the corner hot tub by the bed.

Well, maybe this isn't such a standard hotel room after all.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears. I tried to keep my breathing even, tried to wrap my mind around the whole situation. What I was doing. Why I was doing it.

A soft moan escaped when I thought of the possible end result, and something tightened in my gut.

"Kenzie? Sit down." He took my hand and guided me to the bed. My skin tingled from the contact. My knees bent automatically, and then I was resting on the edge, my short stature making it difficult to sit and still touch the carpet. "You look beautiful tonight."

I blinked again and tilted my head up to him. No one had ever called me beautiful, save my parents. My eyes dropped down to the dress I'd chosen to wear to the dance tonight, a silky red, rose-patterned skirt topped with a black, sleeveless bodice that provided ample cleavage. It was one of my favorites, mostly because I felt beautiful in it, despite my oversized body.

A smile pulled at my lips, glad that he had liked it, too. "I-I'm sorry. I'm just a little..."

"It's okay. I understand." He sat beside me, still holding my hand.

For several minutes, the only noise we made was our breathing—his even, mine staggered.

How can he be so calm?

I kept my gaze on my own lap, swallowing heavily when it wandered to his lap...and the slight bulge there. He squeezed my hand every now and then. Finally, when I felt calm myself, I raised my eyes to his face.

He was watching me; the corners of his mouth were turned up. "I'm going to kiss you, okay?"

I tipped my chin in response, and then his hand cupped my jaw, drawing me closer. My eyes drifted closed when his warm lips touched mine. They brushed lightly at first and then pressed harder. I squeezed his hand, sucking down air, little squeaks of surprise reaching my ears.

His hand slid to the back of my head, his fingers burying into the gathered strands of my hair. When his tongue outlined my mouth, I shivered. When he nipped at my bottom lip, I gasped. And when his tongue slipped inside, flicking at my tongue, I moaned.

Damien continued to ply my mouth with his until our tongues danced, tasting each other, and my moans became more frequent. He pulled his hand from mine and released the clip that held my auburn locks secure. The soft waves cascaded to my shoulders, whispering against my ears and cheeks before he brushed them back so he could hold my head more firmly.

My hand found his thigh and squeezed, eliciting a moan from him. Our bodies turned into each other, the nerves slipping away as he helped me scoot back on top of the quilt. When he laid me back against the pillows, I sighed, and anticipation replaced the anxiety in my tense muscles.

His fingers caressed my cheeks and forehead and neck, twirling through my tresses as he moved his mouth against mine. He was gentle but firm. In control, but in no hurry, either.

My fingers rose to trace the contours of his neck, across the slight stubble on his jaw, up into his wavy hair, holding his head.

When his fingers slid down to my shoulder, over the wide strap of the bodice of my dress, and grazed against my bare arm, I sucked his breath into my mouth. Even through the dress and bra, I could feel the heat from his touch and ached for him to cup my breast, to ease some of the pressure I'd been feeling ever since we'd met. He was so close, yet he seemed to purposefully avoid that area.

"You taste so good." His mouth covered mine once more before moving to my chin, my jaw, and behind my ear before settling in the curve of my neck. His nose nuzzled, his tongue licking at my flesh. He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly with a groan. "You smell amazing."

I whimpered, my skin tingling as he ravaged it. "Please, don't stop. Mmm."

"I don't intend to." His voice was muffled as he sucked gently, nibbling and then licking away the sharp pains that resulted.

I gripped his arms, anchoring myself to him. His warm body pressed against my side, igniting sparks under my skin. I wanted to pull him on top of me; I just didn't have the energy. Or the guts to take the initiative.

His mouth landed butterfly kisses across my shoulder and over to my throat. When he pulled back, my eyes fluttered open. His eyes were fixed, but not on my face. I followed their path, and my breath hitched when I saw the object of his concentration: the quick rise and fall of my breasts pushing against the confines of the dress's plunging neckline. My gaze returned to his face just in time to see him lick his lips.

"If you do want me to stop, now would be the time..."

"No, no, no." I clenched my eyes, and a shudder ran through me at the thought that it could be over so quickly.

A soft chuckle was his only reply, and then his lips brushed my throat again. Slowly, methodically, they covered every inch of skin. Sometimes, his tongue darted out, making me shiver. My breath caught repeatedly as he moved lower.

When his lips caressed the swell of my breast, I gripped my skirt, my body arching up to him on its own volition. The flat of his tongue stroked the rise above the edge of my black satin bra, and the feeling of wet heat burned through me. He shifted, laying an arm across my abdomen and turning his head. My nose buried in his hair. It smelled slightly of woodsy aftershave, and I exhaled with a sigh.

My concentration shifted when I felt his finger trail along the curve of my cleavage, dipping into the space between my breasts before sliding under the edge of the bra. His tongue followed, and a moan rose from the back of my throat. My nipples were so hard they hurt. If he would just...

My body writhed, urging him to go just a little lower to where I wanted it. Where I needed it. When I moved my hand, literally trying to take matters into my own hands to ease the aching, he shifted again and grasped my arm, raising it above my head. He rose up enough to release my left arm beneath him and joined it with my right arm. Holding both wrists with his right hand, he lowered his mouth to my breast again and resumed worshipping my now burning skin.

"Please...oh, please, Damien..." I mumbled past the whimpers he pulled from me.

"What do you want, Hun?" His breath breached the barrier of the bra and made me ache even more. "Tell me what you want."

"Oh..." My mind was hazy, and I was suddenly embarrassed again. Why can't he just read my mind?

"This, maybe?" His fingers grazed the underside of my breast through the dress and I shrieked. "Yes, I think that's it."

He teased again, and then finally his hand cupped my breast, squeezing gently. His thumb brushed over the peak. Even through the material, it sent shockwaves through my entire body.

"Oh my—!"

My eyes shot open and I held my breath, staring at the ceiling but seeing nothing, reveling in the fact that he had finally touched me where I needed it. I gasped as he moved his hand up and slipped a finger under the edge of my bra and swept it over and over again directly on my nipple. Heat rushed down and pooled between my legs.

The world stilled.

His lips brushed my ear, his breath hot but still making me shiver. My breath hitched again when his hand slid further inside my bra to cup me fully. His skin was slightly rough as he kneaded my breast, rolling my nipple between his thumb and fingers.

I turned toward him, my mouth searching for his. He moaned, pressed his lips against mine, and pushed me onto my back again. I wiggled beneath him, echoing his moan as his tongue swept my mouth and played with my tongue.

He squeezed my breast one more time and then removed his hand. He released my left wrist, slid his hand up over to my shoulder, and pulled both the strap of my dress and my bra down my arm. Cool air brushed over my now bared breast. My nipple tightened painfully.

I was gasping for breath, shivering as his fingers slid along my arm and slowly brought it up back up above my head. When I felt him tie something around my wrist, I automatically jerked. "Damien?"

"Yes, Kenzie?" He kissed his way down my arm and over my breast, sucking my nipple into his mouth.

"Oh!" I forgot what I was going to ask him, my nerves wiped away with that one simple action, and I arched against him.

He chuckled, teasing my nipple with his tongue as he climbed over me and released my other wrist. When he'd bared my right breast, he moved his mouth over to that side while he brought that hand above my head again. I struggled to swallow, watching him tie off my right wrist.

"You are so sexy." His eyes were glossy as he sat back beside me, staring down at my naked chest, my dress and bra just under my bust line.

I pulled gently on my wrists and gulped at the tension. There was enough slack to let my arms relax against the pillows, but not enough that I could actually untie myself if I so desired.

"I didn't think you'd remember." What had happened to my voice? It sounded so husky.

"Oh, I remembered. I remembered everything." That lazy smile, that deep tone, that sudden darkening look in his eyes made my heart skip a beat.

My mind raced to remember everything we had discussed...and wondered if I had forgotten to mention anything. But my focus was lost when he reached under my back and released the clasps on my bra and slid the zipper down on my dress. I kept my eyes on him, apparent fascination in his eyes as he shimmied my dress down, revealing more and more of my naked body.

He sucked his breath in when he unveiled my black, satin panties. I bucked up to him, and he paused, gripping my hips and running his thumbs back and forth over my covered skin. Resuming his undressing, the satin of my skirt brushed against my bare legs, and then he tossed the dress aside. His fingers slid over my calves, up to my knees, and then down again to unbuckle and remove my heels.

I had a sudden surge of courage. I slowly ran the tip of my tongue along my upper lip and wiggled my hips. "So you like what you see?"

His eyes raised to mine, and I swear I saw a flicker of fire in them. He didn't speak, but he slid his fingers under the edge of my panties and slowly pulled them down. I gulped, aware that I really was concerned that he liked what he was seeing.

Cool air brushed against me, and I couldn't help pressing my thighs together, moaning and squirming as he just stared at me. A couple of times, he raised his hand as if he were going to touch me down there, but his hand returned to his lap. I wished I could read his mind.

He reached into his back pocket and then leaned toward me, brushing his lips against mine.

"You okay?"

I took a couple of deep breaths and then smiled. "Yeah. I'm good."

His eyes met mine, and he smiled back. "Liar."

His hands moved over my face. A soft cloth covered my eyes, blocking out the light, and he secured the elastic band over my head.

My breath quickened. I couldn't help it. He was right. Part of me worried that I had gotten in too deep. I had wanted this. But once my control was gone, my nerves had returned and I was afraid. Not necessarily of Damien, but of what I would do...or not do. He appeared to have done this before. What if I didn't live up to his expectations?

###

Which brought us back to me laying on the bed, completely naked, blindfolded and hands tied to the headboard. Damien was sitting or standing elsewhere in the room listening to reruns of Law and Order. I highly doubted he was watching the TV.

I could actually feel his eyes on me. And it wasn't that uncomfortable feeling you get when you know someone is watching you and you wonder why and then glance around nervously trying to locate the culprit. Instead, I felt warmth spread through me, pleased that he found me worthy to look at.

Several minutes passed, the show went to a commercial, and in the background, I heard the distinct click of the hotel room's door opening and closing.

"Damien?"

There was no answer. I tried not to panic, but I couldn't help tugging on my restraints. I didn't hear anyone else in the room, which was a good thing. But still...

My thoughts were just getting the better of me when I heard the door open again. I held my breath, hearing the tinkling of ice in a glass and the hiss of an opening can of soda. The heat of another body brushed against my right side, and the bed dipped from the weight of someone sitting down. I gasped when a cool palm brushed over my right nipple.

"Did you miss me?"

I let out a ragged breath, relieved to hear Damien's voice. "Tell me next time you leave!"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." His lips brushed mine. I smelled the cola on his breath. Our tongues flirted for a moment, and then he sat back. "Shall we begin?"

I grinned, relaxing against the pillows. I heard him set down his glass, and then he reached under my head, pulling down the comforter and blankets. Goosebumps prickled my skin as his hands brushed against me. I helped as much as I could in my position by lifting my body. When I was lying on just the cool sheets, the weight on the bed shifted again, and the TV went silent.

"You can't see anything, right?"

I tilted my head back, to both sides, and then relaxed again. "Nope. Not a thing."

"Then enjoy. And not a word."

I nodded and flexed my wrists and fingers. I knew he was watching me again, and heat gathered between my legs. I shifted my hips, wiggled my toes, and then rotated my ankles. Anything to keep myself distracted. My lips were suddenly dry, and I licked them, swallowing and finding my mouth dry as well. I forced myself to breathe normally, listening for any indications of what he might be doing.

The air conditioner shut off, and then I only heard his even breathing. But still, he did not touch me. After several more minutes, my muscles relaxed, and my legs fell open slightly. His breath caught, and I smiled. I wondered if he was masturbating, but surely, I would have heard some indication.

I was going to ask him if everything was okay when I felt it. It was the lightest touch, directly across both of my nipples. I groaned when they hardened. The sensation moved down, following the curve under my breasts and up the sides.

It was definitely a feather, the fullness grazing my skin like the softest fingertips. It flitted across my abdomen, outlining my ribs, circling my bellybutton. My hips bucked when the tip grazed the dip where my leg joined my body. I shivered, cooing. He repeated the motion, moving out over my hip and slowly back again, following the line of my pelvis.

I was writhing by the time he ran the flat part of the feather across the top of my left thigh. Goosebumps prickled my skin, and I opened my legs more, using my feet to gain leverage against the bed to push up.

Damien chuckled. "Patience, Hun." But he did slide the feather along the inside of my thigh, drawing it down under my knee and calf.

I giggled when he tickled the underside of my foot. He moved to work on my right side. I could feel the heat of his body leaning over my legs. The feather traced the same pattern backwards from my foot up my calf, under my knee and over my thigh, across my pelvis and along my ribs. I arched my back and groaned softly when my nipples brushed against the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt.

"Hey, no cheating!"

I grinned and licked my lips, but I behaved and lay back down.

He pulled away, and I felt him move up over my head. The feather traced the underside of my right arm up to my wrist and brushed against my fingers. He drew circles on my open palm before moving back down my arm. The tip swept across my shoulder, down my collarbone, and across my throat.