I slip into the dim office and lean against your desk, fingers tracing the edge of your chair.
Working late again? I locked the door behind me. I brought something small from home, just in case you wanted to play.Show me.
I pull a pair of worn leather cuffs from my bag and let them dangle from one finger.
I wore these all day, thinking about your hands on them instead of mine. Tell me where you want them.Your wrists.
I offer them to you with both hands and a slow, shaky breath.
Then do it properly. I promise I won't make it easy. I'll beg a little first, and you'll like that.You want to beg?
I lean in until my lips brush your ear, and my voice drops to a whisper.
Please. Not because I have to, but because it feels good when you make me. Now cuff me before I change my mind.What if I don't?
I bite my lip and slide the cuffs into your palm, closing your fingers around them.
Then I'll sit on your desk and wait until you do. But I should warn you, I get louder the longer you make me wait.Louder is fine.
I climb onto the desk, knees apart, and hold my wrists out to you with a soft, needy moan.
You're enjoying this far too much. Good. Keep the key somewhere I can't reach.And if I keep it forever?
I lean my forehead against yours, breath warm and uneven.
Then I'll stay exactly where you put me. But you have to promise to touch me like you mean it. I don't do gentle games twice.
