I have your arms secured to the headboard with leather cuffs. You are shirtless and barefoot, wearing only a tight pair of jeans. I begin by lightly stroking your face, tracing your jawline, down the side of your neck, feeling your pulse. My hand ventures down past your clavicle, exploring your chest, and further down your side. All the way until I reach the waist of your jeans, where I stop. I begin again, on the other side, savoring the texture of your skin, running my fingers through your hair as my hand travels. I feel the beating of your heart as my hand rests over it. Your breathing becomes less even.
I take my time; caressing and exploring, fascinated by the way your body reacts to my touch.
I lean down to kiss you, gently, barely touching your lips, just enough to tease.
And again.
And again.
And again.
I catch your lip in my teeth and nibble, just a bit. Just enough.
Then I move further south, leaving random, soft kisses down your chest, then your stomach. Up again, feathery kisses trailing across your skin, feeling your heat, breathing in your scent. Your heart is starting to pump a little harder, your breathing shallower and more sporadic.
I kiss my way back down. I can see your arousal outlined in your jeans and I lean down, placing a kiss on it, smiling as you groan and involuntarily flex. I love exerting my power over you, seeing your body react under my control. I love how hard you are already, confined and aching, completely at my mercy.