Nyra
He stood up and reached for the hem of his shirt. He tugged it up and over his body. It fell onto the sofa behind him. While I admired his bare and wide chest, he was already reaching for his pants. He wasn't overly hairy, but I impressively admired the patch of curly hair between his pectorals.
The belt buckle clanged hard, and I looked to see his pants had dropped to the ground, and he was reaching for his boxers. He hooked his thumbs at the ends, and his eyes stayed on me as he tugged them down. He moved them the rest of the way down with his feet before kicking them to the side.
"You have a very handsome body." I complimented.
I greedily looked at him. Every inch. My eyes didn't leave a single place unseen. His arms and legs. His chest and abdomen. His very hard and eager cock was twitching as I stared at it a little longer. I closed the distance between us but didn't touch him. Not when he wasn't cuffed.
"Sit down, Ivan." He sat and kept his eyes on me as I reached for his hands and cuffed them behind his back. "Good, okay, now your legs."
I knelt down and cuffed his ankles to the table out in front of us. He had room to move his ankles but not too much room that he could overpower me.
"Now." I stood up and admired him from afar. "You were promised a dance, no?"
"I don't think I'll last if you dance for me." He confessed.
"Be a good boy and try hard to."
I walked to where the curtain was. I didn't step outside but knocked on the wall beside the curtain twice. A few moments later, music filled the room we were in. I haven't done a private dance session in years, but it wasn't as hard as it was when you danced on the stage.
Just more intimate and quieter. I let the soft beat of the music move me, and I closed my eyes, completely in my element as I danced. He couldn't reach me, and knowing he was restrained and watching me had me growing wetter in anticipation.
There was always this thrill when you danced for someone. I usually took my time stripping my bra and panties and other little accessories off, but this time I was fully naked. I swayed my hips, gave him my back, moved my hands over my body, and even though there was music playing in the background.
I could hear him straining against the cuffs and hear his breathing grow more labored over time. Dancing was, in its very own way, a seduction. Almost like art. There were no rules. No right or wrong.
You moved to the music, you felt every beat and line deep inside you, and you let it guide you. I ran my hands up my thighs and stomach and cupped my breasts, and opened my eyes to see his muscles flexing as he tried to fight his way out of the cuffs.
"Come here." He rasped. "Just fucking come here."
"I don't like being told what to do."
"I never knew the devil could be so sexy."
My lips twitched into a smile. "Am I the devil now?"
"A pretty little devil." He said, his voice thick with lust. "My pretty little devil." He corrected and licked his lips.
I went from someone to his in less than a second. It was rather quick, and I don't think I've ever had a man be possessive over me or call me his. They called me baby, honey, and sweetheart, but those endearments never did anything to me. Now, suddenly, I was his pretty little devil, and fuck me, but I didn't hate it.
"You don't strike me as a possessive man, Ivan."
He shook his head, his hair sticking to his forehead with the movement.
"I'm not, but I'm thinking over you...I might be." He confessed. "Now, come here and take what's yours." He said gruffly.
"Suddenly, you're mine?"
"Yes." He ground out. "Now, fuck. Come here."
I walked toward him slowly and spread his thighs but didn't kneel. "I don't kneel for a man, but I will give you this," I said as I wrapped my hand around his hard cock.
His lips parted as he panted. He watched me with dark eyes, and I enjoyed the way his body reflexively thrashed against the cuffs. He wanted to touch me. It was in their nature to want, to take, but it was also in mine to never make it easy.
"Then don't fucking kneel. Just get on top of me, woman. Fucking ride me."
"Are you desperate for this devil to ride you?" I squeezed at the base before pulling the length taut in my hand.
He let out a deep groan, and his eyes were carnal as they dropped lower to the region between my legs, and he kept his eyes there as he spoke.
"I want to taste you."
I slipped my hand between my legs and let my fingers slide in between the slippery folds. Before I could lose myself in my own touch, I pulled my hand back and flashed him my fingers. They were wet with evidence.
His lips widened without instruction, and I placed my fingers in his mouth. I stroked him harder as he sucked on my fingers. My thighs clenched as his tongue darted over my fingers, not wanting to let a drop go to waste.
I tried to pull my fingers out, but he grunted as he sucked on them harder. My lips parted as I watched him so greedily taste me. His teeth scraped over my fingers and knuckles as I pulled them out.
"Woman, climb up on my face. Fuck. I need a better taste."
"Ivan." I gasped at the almost tortured sound of him begging to taste me.
"Sit on my fucking face and let me taste you properly."
I wanted to. It would be uncomfortable with him sitting and chained to the sofa and table, but I could maneuver it, but not now. I was too wound up, too strung out for the feel of him.
"Not tonight. You can taste me a different day."
I reached for under the sofa cushion and pulled out the condom I had placed for me. I ripped it open and placed it over the throbbing length that would not only fill me up but tear me apart. Ivan's cock was thick in girth and significant in size.
Yes, this would do me well. I straddled his thighs, and before I could sink down, his mouth lunged forward for my breasts. He nipped and kissed the skin there before sucking on my nipples.
Arching my hips upward, I held him as I inched myself down slowly, inch by inch. He bit down hard on my nipple in response, and I screamed from the pleasurable pain.
He was in me so deep I couldn't breathe as I gasped and shook. I was seated fully on his lap and wiggled slightly as I tried to adjust myself to his size. I guess he did have something bigger to back up his words. His groan was bestial, and he pulled away from my nipples to look at me.
"Fuck." He swore.
I wrapped both my hands around his throat and looked down at him as I moved my hips. I brushed my lips against his, and before he could swoop in for a kiss, I whisked my lips away.
"I don't kiss, either," I whispered harshly.
"Devil woman." He breathed and let out a low sound of pleasure. "You have the silkiest cunt."
I smirked. "So, I've been told."
His eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched at my words. "Should I tell you what I'd do if I could touch you?"
"Yes."
"I'd start off by kissing your mouth. I wonder if your mouth tastes as sweet as your cunt."
I moaned and moved my hips faster over his. "What else, Ivan?"
"I'd brand my hand across your ass for even bringing up the men you used to fuck before me. When I'm in this cunt, my pretty little devil, then it's just me. Forget every other man, Nyra. Understand?"
I nodded earnestly.
"Good fucking girl. Then, I'd fist your hair in my hand and force you on your hands and knees. I'd fuck you from behind with your head forced down in the pillows while I mount you like a fucking animal. Fuck."
His head fell back as I rode him faster and harder, my hips going in small circles as I fucked him the way I wanted. I swiveled my hips, rode him back and forth, and then forced his head back to my breasts as I bounced on his lap.
Skin slapping skin filled the room, and it was an erotically lewd sound, especially combined with our moans and groans. We were panting, sweating, and my nails were digging into his skin and arms, but he didn't show me he cared.
Sex wasn't usually this frantic and wild, and some men I've cuffed were tamer than Ivan. Ivan was different. He was possessive, erratic, and had this wildly crazed look in his dark blue eyes as he peered up at me through his dark lashes.
"You're gonna cum for me, Ivan?" I cooed.
"Yes." He nodded his head eagerly.
"Go on, Ivan, cum for me. Cum for the devil riding you."
His body shook and thrashed beneath me, and he shouted my name mumbled in with a few curses and groans. He erupted his load in the condom at the same time that my orgasm hit me. We had orgasmed together simultaneously.
It was a euphoric high that had me gasping and trembling as he jerked and twitched inside me. My orgasm was a brutal one, yet it lulled me into a false sense of security. With our breathing still harsh and our hearts still beating rapidly, I closed my eyes and rested my cheek against his cheek.
I expected him to speak, to tell me to take off the cuffs, but he didn't. Like how I surprised myself by resting my cheek on his chest, he surprised me by resting his chin on the top of my head.
**
I could make a man fall at my feet with one glance. They even had a name for those seducing looks and glances. It took a while for me to master it, for me to perfect my stare. They called it siren eyes.
Of course, they named it after a Greek mythological creature that brought sailors down to their deaths with a song. I mean, you could tell a man named it, but that was neither here nor there. A man could fall so quickly at my feet that it could almost be deemed pathetic.
As a woman, you truly never get used to the catcalling, the slut-shaming, or the way men leer at you as if you were a piece of steak.
They looked like dogs and acted like dogs, yet dogs were loyal. Dogs obeyed and listened to their master. With men, it wasn't the case. Men weren't loyal to anyone but themselves. I had men all around me.
Working with me, guarding me, protecting me, and I've worked alongside men, around men, and over the years, you begin to learn some tells. You begin to think like them. So deviously. So murderously.
And when you do like them, suddenly you're the enemy. You're the bitch who thinks too highly of herself. Men praise men, but men never praise women. It was a mere contradiction. One I've memorized like the back of my hand. You see, I didn't believe in second chances, and it was rare that I offered them.
The man tied to the chair before me was given the rare second chance, and instead of using it to his advantage, he betrayed me. He went behind my back and not only attempted to steal from me but hired a man to kill me.
The assassin was a very well-known and very intelligent sniper. I've used his intelligence and skill set on a handful of people before. We shared a mutual respect for each other. So when he called me and told me of what Clint had asked of him, I paid him double to walk away.
"Do what you want with me, Nyra. I know death is near, and I don't care." The man spat rather bravely.
I'd give him that. I eyed him for a moment. No man was ever prepared to die. Words were words, and men were like the apes they evolved from. His eye was closed up, and his lip was cut. Blood dripped down his lips and chin, and I knew my men had done a number on him. His ribs were probably broken, and his chest was bruised, but I didn't want him to die. No, not yet.
I waved my gun around as I took a step back. "Do you hear that? He doesn't care."
The men behind me laughed and snickered, and I seized playing with the gun in my hand and placed it back in its holster.
"Death is not near my old friend." I stood up. "Death will be on my terms. You die when I will it." I turned to my men and gave them a silent order.
Keep him alive. Barely.
"Yes, boss."
A/N: Thoughts? Are we in love with Nyra or is it just me?