The Sex Ritual. Part 3

Her skin raced with sensation, the thrill of his words touching her everywhere, inside and out. She wanted him to fuck her. But he was making her listen, controlling her with his intimate, knowing words.

He looked at her hands. Her fingers were meshed, the cuffs chinking as she fidgeted fretfully, her hands hovering close to the surface of her panties where her clit was swollen and pounding. He didn’t miss a thing. “How wet are you?”

She didn’t need to think about it. Her underwear clung to the groove of her pussy. The fabric would need to be peeled away from her aroused folds. She shifted her weight from one heel to the other, her eyes closing as she replied. “Very wet.”

Tension filled the air between them. She wanted him badly, wanted him inside her where her body was begging to be filled. She took a step toward him.

He shook his head, drawing her to a sudden halt, then gestured at a chair to her left. “Put one foot on that chair, open your legs and show me

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