Deleted steamy scene – the couple is in the Moon Garden
“Tonight, I want to get out of my head. Make me feel helpless, exposed.”
I run a hand on the side of her neck before catching the back of it and pushing her face close to mine. I tap my temple with one finger. “I have just the thing here in my head.”
I crawl behind Sophie, a length of rope in my hands. When my chest touches her back, she relaxes into me with a sigh. I run the taut rope against the skin of her neck. It’s a slow action to give her a chance to switch mindsets, to relax, to feel the hemp string before it captures her.
I strain my ears as I do this, trying to catch the most minuscule of sounds from outside. My alarm button is in my pocket. The scene I’ve planned is a short one, no more than twenty minutes. I’m afraid my frayed patience won’t last longer.
Taking Sophie’s relaxed hands in mine, I bend them behind her back with care and place them forearm to forearm. I won’t tie them but Sophie wants helpless and exposed, so I force her chest to jut forward as I wrap my rope around her shoulders and pull tight. She moans. The drumbeat of my heart slows down, my nerves easing with each pass of the rough rope between my fingers. We’re in the eye of the storm. A calm that will be gone in the blink in the eye. So I force myself to savor every breath that I coax out of Sophie’s red mouth. Her hair is a waterfall that smells of cocoa butter and orange, a scent that mixes with the lilac from the room in a perfume of comfort.
I wrap the rope around her chest, making half-hitches here and there, creating a diamond pattern. It’s as tight as a corset, emphasizing her breasts. When I’m done with the harness, I run my fingers across the fabric of her dress.
“So many layers for a sex party,” I whisper.
My hand goes into her bra, pulling her breast out of its confines. Her nipple is a hard point between my index and middle finger. I squeeze, forcing a moan out of her. For the sake of fairness, I do the same with her other breast. My chin is resting on the top of her head. I’m getting high on the smell of her hair and the sound of her soft, shallow breaths. Her body is so relaxed, she starts sliding down my front, ending up in a semi-lying position, her shoulders just where my diaphragm is. With every breath intake of mine, her head bobs in sync.
I frown. Sophie looks chilled and comfortable – what about exposed and helpless? I pull the fabric of her outfit out of the way and tuck it under the rope harness. She pushes her chest forward as she struggles a bit, rewarding me with a full view of her breasts. But that’s not enough. I run my fingers up and down her body as I think. I have to add another layer of exhibitionism in this scene. She needs to feel like there’s nothing in her that can stay hidden when she’s with me. I want to unveil her.
“You should tie my eyes if you want me to feel helpless,” Sophie says out of the blue.
“Topping from the bottom, are we?” I put my hands under her and make her sit up. She still holds her arms behind her back obediently. But I’m the Rope Top tonight, so I will do anything but blindfold her. I rummage in my bag, taking out a ball gag. It’s one I bought ages ago and never used.
I push the smooth sphere into Sophie’s mouth. She feels the hole in the middle so she sticks her tongue playfully through it as I fasten it at the back of her head. While the hole is interesting, and playing with her tongue is a fascinating idea, I take the second part of the gag, a velvet rose with a fat stem, and slot it in. It’s a flower party after all.
Sophie’s eyes shoot open, confused. She looks down at her nose, cross-eyed. I don’t tell her why the gag is special. This knowledge is mine alone and the torment that she doesn’t know what she’s biting down on adds to her helplessness and to my petty enjoyment.
With that, the kinky ideas flow free in my head. I will expose her even more. I sit in front of her, maintaining eye contact. Her gaze has a smidgen of angry defiance. Good. I grasp her ankle and wrap another strand of rope around it. After the single column is done, I push her shin to her thigh, circling both with broad movements. The rope is tight, making the skin of her leg jut out between the wraps. Delight paints the tone of her next moan.
Moving her tied-up leg to the side, opening her up, I take her free ankle in my palm and push it upward. She’s flexible so I can probably put it behind her neck. Instead, I hold it high in the air, looking her up and down. Showing her she is spread for my pleasure. The corners of her eyes crinkle with a smile that she can’t express with her lips. I plant a kiss on the rose in her mouth before dropping my face to her chest. I pepper little kisses on her collarbones and down between her breasts. I’m careful not to get carried away. Her nipples are hard points, with little shadows where her wounds are healing. I want to feel the nubs against my tongue but I’m content with only observing them for now. If and when Sophie is ready to face the trauma surrounding nipple-sucking, I will be there with my mouth ready.
I continue with my lazy kisses, the fabric of her wood-nymph costume tickling my face. As I reach her pelvic bone, I can smell the sweet scent of her arousal. She has green see-through panties on, her pale pussy in full view thanks to the shape I’ve pulled her in.
There’s a knock on the door, an unwelcome interruption to what would have been a delicious moment between the two of us. I ignore it, trying to salvage the mood of the scene. Sophie’s eyes have hooded. She’s spaced out, enjoying my touch, the rope digging into her skin like an unrelenting embrace.
I let go of her ankle and thread my fingers through her hair. She lets out a breath, something between a moan and a sigh. I clench my fists, capturing strands of strawberry-gold in my palms, and pull backward, forcing her neck in a position which opens her throat to me. I stand up, abandoning the sight of her pussy so I can bite her like a vampire. She shivers, goosebumps covering her legs. I can feel her pulse on my lips. It moves with the electrifying rhythm of anticipation. She says something but her words drown in the petals of the rose.
Her little whimpers stop abruptly when there’s another knock. Then, before I can react, the lock rattles with a metallic whiz. My heartbeat picks up pace. I turn to look at the door as the room plunges into silence once again.
When my attention returns to Sophie’s flushed face, her eyes are no longer closed but her body is still soft and warm next to mine. She is not panicking. She is folded in the comfort of sub-space.
I should stop getting worked up too but the train has left the station. My body is on full alert, my thunderous heart pumping blood like there’s no tomorrow. It rushes in my temples in rhythm that’s too fast for what I’m doing right now. My momentary freeze remains unnoticed by Sophie, who dips her chin to her chest and sighs a trusting sigh.