Fifty Shades Of Park Jimin

GOOD WHEN WE ARE TOGETHER⚠️

Quickly, he clambers out of the bath, giving me my first full glimpse of the Adonis, divinely formed, that is Park Jimin. My inner goddess has stopped dancing and is staring too, mouth open and drooling slightly. His erection tamed, but still substantial.

He wraps a small towel around his waist, covering the essentials, and holds out a larger fluffy white towel for me. Climbing out of the bath, I take his proffered hand. He wraps me in the towel, pulls me into his arms, and kisses me hard, pushing his tongue into my mouth.

I long to reach round and embrace him... touch him... but he has my arms trapped in the towel. I'm soon lost in his kiss. He cradles my head, his tongue exploring my mouth.

He pulls away, his hands on either side of my face, staring intently into my eyes. He looks lost.

"Say yes," he whispers fervently.

I frown, not understanding.

"To what?"

"Yes to our arrangement. To being mine. Please, Rosie," he whispers, emphasizing the last word and my name, pleading. He kisses me again, sweetly, passionately, before he stands back and stares at me, blinking slightly. He takes my hand and leads me back to his bedroom, leaving me reeling, so I follow him meekly. Stunned. He really wants this.

In his bedroom, he stares down at me as we stand by his bed.

"Trust me?" he asks suddenly. I nod, wide-eyed with the sudden realization that I do trust him. What's he going to do to me now An electric thrill hums through me.

"Good girl," he breathes, his thumb brushing my bottom lip. He steps away into his closet and comes back with a silver-grey silk woven tie.

"Knit your hands together in front of you," he orders as he peels the towel off me and throws it on the floor.

I do as he asks, and he binds my wrists together with his tie, knotting it firmly. His eyes are bright with wild excitement. He tugs at the binding. It's secure. Some boy scout he must have been to learn these knots. My pulse has gone through the roof, my heart beating a frantic tattoo. He runs his fingers down my pigtails.

"You look so young with these," he murmurs and moves forward. Instinctively, I move back until I feel the bed against the back of my knees. He drops his towel, but I can't take my eyes off his face. His expression is ardent, full of desire.

"Oh, Roseanne, what shall I do to you?" he whispers as he lowers me on to the bed, lying beside me, and raising my hands above my head.

"Keep your hands up here, don't move them, understand?" His eyes burn into mine, and I'm breathless from their intensity. This is not a man I want to cross... ever.

"Answer me," he demands, his voice soft.

"I won't move my hands." I'm breathless.

"Good girl," he murmurs and deliberately licks his lips slowly. I'm mesmerized by his tongue as it sweeps slowly over his upper lip. He's staring into my eyes, watching me, appraising. He leans down and plants a chaste, swift kiss on my lips.

"I'm going to kiss you all over, Miss Roseanne," he says softly, and he cups my chin, pushing it up giving him access to my throat. His lips glide down my throat, kissing, sucking, and nipping, to the small dip at the base of my neck. My body leaps to attention... everywhere. My recent bath experience has made my skin hyper-sensitive. My heated blood pools low in my belly, between my legs, right down there. I groan.

I want to touch him. I move my hands and rather awkwardly, given I'm restrained, feel his hair. He stops kissing me and glares up at me, shaking his head from side to side, tutting as he does. He reaches for my hands and places them above my head again.