With a Rose

* My first submitted story... please be kind with your reviews!

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. May she wasn't the typical definition of beautiful, but to him, she was perfect.

And all his. He didn't walk around thinking of women as objects to be owned (he considered himself an enlightened modern man), but right now, for this moment, she belonged to him. Completely.

Her legs were spread wide, held in place by straps secured around her ankles. Her arms stretched high above her head, also secured. He couldn't stop staring at the sight before him; her eyes drew him in more than anything. They both knew the plain truth... he could do absolutely anything to her and she would be helpless. He found himself oddly humbled, despite the power he currently held over her.

He leaned over and kissed her deeply, quickly pulling away to leave her wanting more. Without a word, a blindfold was fastened over her eyes. That action cut off the last of her control. She could see and do nothing. All that was left was to give in to the sensations he offered her.

His hands roamed lightly over her skin. She rewarded his efforts with a soft moan. He could see she was already wet; her thighs glistened. A part of him (the one literally growing larger by the second) wanted to grab her, take her, hard, fast, but he resisted.

'All in good time.' he reminded himself. She had once boasted that she could go for hours like this and, while not prepared to fully test that statement yet, he admitted he was curious.

He stood up abruptly, and left the room. Returning moments later with the tray he had left just outside the door, he settled down again on the bed beside her.

At first he could do nothing other than stare at her. Her chest rose and fell quickly, as her head moved back and forth slightly. Her whole body was tight with anticipation. He looked at the tray, smiled, and reached for the ice.

The silence was unbearable. Here she was at her most vulnerable, and he had no words. She wanted to cry out, but she did nothing. She could do nothing.

A blade of coldness stabbed through her nipple, and she cried out without thought. Her nipple tightened instantly, became as hard as a pebble. She had only enough time for it to dawn on her that the blade was ice before it happened again, on her left breast. Her breasts throbbed, and she felt it to the very core of her being.

She felt the sensation of coolness on her stomach as his fingers caressed her stomach lightly. He teased the sensitive spot on her side, and chuckled softly as spasms swept through her body. Her legs instinctively pressed together, trying vainly to ease some of the frustration, but the bonds simply held.

She whimpered.

She whimpered, and it dawned on him just how much he liked making her do that.

He picked up the ice again...

She felt the cold water pool in the hollow between her breasts. His warm tongue lightly lapped at the water, and she stretched her body to force his lips closer to her throbbing nubs mere inches away. He deftly ignored her straining causing her to let out a soft curse of frustration. He chuckled softly as he moved away again.

Her whole body was covered with sweat. He watched her in all her glory for a moment. She writhed, whimpered, ached. But only when he decided would she scream with pleasure.

He reached for the rose on the tray. Later, when they were both sated, she would hang it to dry, far too sentimental to throw it out. Every time he saw it, he'd think of this moment and her cries. His staff gave a jerk at the thought.

He dangled the rose in front of her face, allowing the scent to penetrate her foggy senses. Then he swept it softly across her breasts, moving down to her stomach, then her thighs. He kept his touch soft and deft, allowing no steady contact. He wanted to keep her guessing as to where and what was next.

She smelled something, and her brain struggled to put a name to the scent. Then all thought left her as a soft touch dragged across first one nipple, then the other. She heard herself whimper again and again, as though she was hearing someone else's voice. Her body was shaking, and all she wanted was release....

The sensation moved, here, there, as if it had a mind of it's own. It was driving her crazy, this softness. She needed more, a substantial touch she could use to vent this frustration.

She cried out, "More... please, gods, more..."

She was almost crying. He obliged her momentarily, dipping his finger into the wet 'v' of her legs, and flicked her clit. Once.

She nearly ripped her restraints off with her shaking. He smiled as that delightful whimper followed, and so he teased her once more.

Again.

She was going crazy. There was no coherent thought in her head; every molecule of her being cried out for release.

He could wait no longer. Ripping her blindfold off, he was surprised at the harshness of his voice when he commanded her, "Open your eyes."

He waited for the fog to clear a bit, and for her gaze to focus on his eyes. His hand was poised just over her sex, and he could literally feel the heat emanating from her.

"I could do anything to you right now. Anything I wanted."

Her eyes begged his for release, but she said nothing.

His eyes never left her face as he touched her clit, soft, then faster. Her eyes rolled back as wave after wave of sensations rode over her. She cried out in pleasure, and he reveled in her music.

Only when she murmured, "Enough... please, enough" did he let go. Her body quivered with aftershocks of pleasure.

When he released her bonds, she grabbed him, threw him down on the bed. She smiled with the confidence of a tigress at the look of surprise on his face.

She bent over, slowly licked his cock. He moaned, and gave in to her. She teased him softly, trying to torture him as well as she had been, but she couldn't wait.

She straddled him, and they both moaned at the sensation. At first it was all she could do to keep her balance, but instinct took over.

She was riding him hard and fast. Her body drew his in deeper than he thought possible, then all thought was gone.

His hands grabbed her breasts, his finger rubbing across the sensitive nipples. Her could feel her tighten, and he knew he was done for.

As his climax came nearer, he felt like he was hanging over a cliff. Grabbing her hips, driving himself into her harder, he threw himself over the edge willingly.

For a moment, he was sure he was dead. He heard drumbeats; saw stars. It slowly dawned on him that it was merely his heart finally slowing and evening out.

She collapsed against him, out of breath, and completely satisfied.