Anything He wants

This was all so unreal, he reflected, to touch her smooth, clear skin, to feel her delicate jawbones beneath a soft layer of flesh. She felt too good to be real, like a work of art crafted by countless artisans to portray the very best of her kind, to be exemplary of all the finest that femininity possessed.

Or perhaps he was merely growing more smitten with her over time rather than losing the enchantment he held all these months.

“Of course I trust you,” she sniffled, her eyes growing watery again, her lips pursing and trembling as she looked on the verge of more tears.

“No more of that,” he chided gently, cupping her face in his hand. He took a deep breath in. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I want to help you.”

Her cheek fit so neatly into the palm of his hand. That delicate jawbone touching to his flesh as she looked up at him, blinking away the watery tears that were forming in a flurry of eyelashes.

“I… I don’t want to let myself hurt anymore,” she resolved, biting her lower lip, a rosy hue filling her cheeks as she belatedly realized what he’d said. “The most beautiful?” she repeated, so sweetly disbelieving.

He nodded, slowly, before lowering his left hand to her right wrist, wrapping his fingers around it. It was a motion both firm and gentle, and he caught her pulse quickening through the fragile flesh. “Come with me,” he said, guiding her down the hall, past the framed pieces of art and into that warm, antique room of his.

The fire was dimly lit, the light casting odd shadows around the room, and he went to the candles at the side of the bed. They boasted of scents that were masculine, like leather and tobacco and the outdoors, and he thought it suited the room nicely. He lit the trio with his back to her, letting her ease into the foreign room.

Aubrey followed after him like a lost little girl taking the direction of an older man, her pleated skirts swaying as she swept into the room. All her pain and sadness was held at bay as she darted her big, emerald eyes about the chamber, soaking it all in so curiously. In all her time as his roommate, she’d never seen his room.

The smell of the candles, of the fire, they all filled her dainty nostrils and she stayed close to him, clutching her hands together beneath her petite bust, anxiously wringing her hands together.

“This is your room?’ she asked in her soft, weak little voice. “It’s so… so beautiful,” she remarked, a bit awed and intimidated by the vintage style that dominated the room. It all served to only make her feel like an even younger and more lost little girl, so out of her element. So out of her league in this lair of a rich, strong man.

Her room was designed to comfort, his was designed to keep her on edge. To purposefully make her feel small and uncertain. He smiled over her shoulder at her, realizing it was doing its job. “It is. All real heartwood, too.” He placed the candles on the elegant nightstand and turned to face her.

“If you want me to stop, at any time, you just say ‘Sunshine’, okay? ‘No’, ‘stop’, those won’t count, okay? I’ll just keep going until you say sunshine. Say it,” he ordered, his voice stern.

That frail little princess stiffened at the authority in his voice, her waifish figure twitching and standing a little more erect as her gaze locked onto his. Those green eyes of hers betrayed not fear at the command, but something else. The total focus of attention. The eagerness to obey.

“Sunshine,” she said quickly and breathily, her pale, slender fingers knitted together as she pressed them up beneath her chin, as if it was a prayer.

“Good girl,” he said with a smile, fancying that he was doling out affection and compliments as easily as commands. “You can stop me whenever you need. Even if it’s just for a break.” He was still quite in control, but he didn’t hide the compassion or the concern in his voice.

He found himself walking a fine line between offering what she needed and frightening her off. And he couldn’t do that, not when she was so near, trembling like a little leaf and so ripe with sensuality that was only starting to stir from its sleep.

“I’m going to blindfold you now, Aubrey.”Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

She had grown a little stiller as authority edged into him, but the thought of having her sight taken from her made her quiver harder still. “You’ll… you’ll be careful with me… right?” she asked, gnawing her lower lip, those white teeth sunk deep into her pink bottom lip as she fidgeted, one leg rising up so that her calf rubbed against the back of her knee.

“Of course. If I’m not, you can stop me,” he reminded her, reaching for the bed stand drawer and opening it, withdrawing a black, silk blindfold. “It’s quite soft,” he chimed as he closed the distance between them. His heart was thudding so fast, and all he really wanted was to shove her down, to take her then and there, but he knew he couldn’t. Not yet.

He wouldn’t rush it with her. It would be sweet torture for them both, and the way she kept biting her lower lip made him all the more certain.

He reached his hand up to her lower face, cupping her jaw and using his thumb to roll her lower lip free. It was so red from her worrying upon it, and he had to wrestle back the urge to suck it into his mouth.

“You better stop that.” His voice was husky, marred with arousal, but his eyes betrayed his humour as he rose the blindfold to her face.

“Sorry,” she murmured in a meek, soft little voice, already sounding so sweetly obedient, as if she were meant for such a life. Meant to obey.

When she gently pressed her soft, lightly pinkened cheek into his palm, it only stressed the point even more so. Her delicate scent of vanilla wafting off her beautiful young figure as he leaned in around her with his own strong aroma. Already she was marked by him, his own more masculine scented hair products mingled into her soft, luxurious hair.

He couldn’t have chosen a better candidate than her. She was everything he could have dreamed of, so… malleable.

He wrapped the blindfold around her face, tying it tightly at the back of her head. He smirked a little as it mussed up her thick tresses, but he smoothed them down gently, and just like that she was perfect once more.

He took her hand and carefully led her to the bed, urging her to settle upon the slippery, silken sheets. “I want you to lie back in the middle of the bed, Aubrey.”

She moved with such tentative little steps, her fingers curling about his much thicker ones for comfort as he guided her to the bed. She bent her legs, pushing her knees up onto the silk sheets, bunching her skirt up along her calves and the argyle socks she wore. She still had on her jacket from walking outside though, and had to shoulder it off to expose her bare arms and the white blouse beneath before laying back down.

With her hair splayed across his pillow, eyes covered up and hands at her sides, she looked like a serene sleeping beauty. Those black mary janes pushed out to the side as she gnawed her lower lip once more, worrying the pink flesh.