Scene #71
Gloriously nude, Mikel held her close. "You’re mine, to do
as I wish?"
"Yes," Jocelyn sighed. She reached for her buttons and he
stopped her.
"That’s mine to do."
"But Mikel," she murmured, "I wanted...."
"Another time, Jocelyn. Tonight’s mine. Ready?" She
nodded and he led her to the bed.
Mikel produced scarves. The fine silk caressed Jocelyn as
he tied her ankles to the rails.
"Mikel, how does this work?"
He looked up and winked, then moved to the head of the bed
and bound her wrists. She felt a shudder that was not quite fear.
Held more by her fists gripping the scarves than by the loose
knots, she closed her eyes under his sensuous touch. When she felt
the bed shift beneath him, she opened her eyes.
Mikel knelt between her thighs, proudly erect. His voice
was a sultry purr. "Afraid, love?" One hand held a long knife.
She shook her head, licked dry lips. The glint of metal was
hypnotic and Jocelyn watched the blade drop, shivered as he drew
the cool metal down her cheek, her throat.
The knife was so keenly edged that she barely felt the tug
that cut the straps of the bustier. He whispered, announcing his
moves. "This goes." With each motion a button flew to land with a
‘tick’. The last gone, Mikel pushed the fabric aside. He drew the
dull edge of the blade across one nipple, teasing it to arousal.
"Why, Jocelyn, I think you’re enjoying this." His eyes
glittered with excitement. "Now the skirt." Again buttons
scattered, and leather gaped open over flimsy lingerie. The blade
moved wreckage, the steel spawning gooseflesh. "Any comments?"
Jocelyn shook her head, waiting.
Mikel moved to the foot of the bed. "These next." He
severed the straps of her sandals and the shoes were cast away.
"I rather like the fishnet hose," he murmured. "Still...."
She felt threads popping, pressure on her thighs as he cut the
hems of the stockings. He lay the blade against her pubis to slide
it beneath the garter belt. "Lift," he prompted, then cut and took
away the scraps. "Enjoying yourself?"
Wearing only the skimpy thong, vulnerable beneath his
stare, Jocelyn saw dark joy in his face. "Yes," she sighed.
"Good. Now...." She flinched as the knife creased her hip
to sneak beneath elastic. He cupped her bottom with one hand and
removed the remnants of the thong. He sat back on his heels and
ran the flat of the knife along the tender flesh of her thigh,
stopping just short of her cleft to lay aside his implement.
When Mikel braced himself over her, Jocelyn arched toward
him. He backed away with a malevolent smile. "Too easy, Jocelyn."
He traced her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, suckled
her nipples to painful rigidity. Warm breath moved down her belly
to the juncture of her thighs. Jocelyn tensed as Mikel retrieved
the knife. He grinned, then shaved away one small curl.
"Souvenir."
