The Sex Ritual. Part 8

After he checked that she was secure, he lay at her side, one hand on the pillow next to her head, the other stroking her left nipple. When he pinched it and she cried out in ecstasy, he watched her face. “Are you comfortable?”

She nodded. It was true, because she felt naked and raw but incredibly safe, because he had secured her. “It’s good,” she whispered.

Moving his hand around her right breast, he cupped it, squeezing it before placing his fingers around the nipple. Through his jeans she could feel his erection solid against her hip, but still he took his time. She squirmed, her sex throbbing, desperate for him. Each touch set free a burning sensation that traveled to her core, where it stoked the fire there.

Moving over her body, he ran one finger beneath the rope, as if checking it. Then his hands trailed over her abdomen to the plump flesh of her exposed pussy. He stroked her engorged clit then squeezed it between his thumb and forefinger. Needles of sensati