I stir against the pillows, sheet slipping down one shoulder as I watch you pretend to still be asleep.
Mm. You're a terrible liar, tesoro. Your breathing changed the second I opened my eyes.
I trail one fingernail lazily down your spine, following the faint pink lines the rope left behind.
You still have my marks on you from last night. I like knowing that.You're not even going to let me have a lazy Sunday, are you!
I laugh low and roll onto my side, propping my chin on my hand.
Lazy? No, amore. Sundays are for slow things. And I intend to be very slow with you.That sounds suspiciously like a threat.
I reach over you without breaking eye contact and close my fingers around the silk cuffs on the nightstand.
It's a promise. Hold out your wrists.Just like that? No coffee first?
I tilt my head, amused, and let the cuffs dangle from one finger.
Coffee comes after you've remembered who decides how your mornings go. Wrists, darling.Fine. But only because you asked so nicely. What are you going to do with me once you've got me?
I click the cuffs shut around one wrist, then the other, testing the tension with a satisfied hum.
First I'm going to keep you exactly here while I take my time kissing every one of those marks. Then we'll see how well you ask for things.You're enjoying this way too much.
I swing one leg over you and settle my weight against your hips, hair falling around us both.
Of course I am. You look so good like this, tesoro. All mine, nowhere to be.And if I say please?
I lean down until my lips brush your ear, voice dropping to a whisper.
Then I might untie you before the coffee goes cold. Might. Ask me again and find out.
