Philippe glares up at her mulishly from the bed. “This is not quite what I had in mind.”
Smiling slightly, Magalie skims a hand over the smooth line of his abdomen. “You did say to be creative.”
He tugs lightly on his wrists, straining the red gauzy scarf holding his wrists to the metal bedframe. “Perhaps I meant in the kitchen.”
“Then you should not have suggested it in the bedroom,” she laughs, leaning down to kiss him. She bites at his lower lip lightly, giggling at the arch of his spine.
She settles herself astride his hips, naked but for a red lace bra to match his scarf, and panties. His erection nudges her thigh, but she ignores it, taking a moment to just look. She enjoys having control over him, enjoys the rush of pleasure and power it gives her. And as much as he grumbles and curses under his breath, she thinks he likes it too. He could break free of the scarf at any moment, but he doesn’t; it’s a lovely sign.
“I think you like this,” she says, dragging her fingernails over his chest and stomach. The windows to her little attic apartment are wide open, the curtains shifting with the April breeze. Spring has arrived at last, and with spring, a well-earned day off for the both of them.
Philippe huffs, a shock of hair falling across his brow. “At your mercy, witch?”
Biting her lip, she shifts her hips against his and is rewarded with a low moan. “Temporarily, yes,” she says with a satisfied smile.
“I will pay you back in full,” he says, voice low and gaze hot.
*
Philippe glares up at her mulishly from the bed. “This is not quite what I had in mind.”
Smiling slightly, Magalie skims a hand over the smooth line of his abdomen. “You did say to be creative.”
He tugs lightly on his wrists, straining the red gauzy scarf holding his wrists to the metal bedframe. “Perhaps I meant in the kitchen.”
“Then you should not have suggested it in the bedroom,” she laughs, leaning down to kiss him. She bites at his lower lip lightly, giggling at the arch of his spine.
She settles herself astride his hips, naked but for a red lace bra to match his scarf, and panties. His erection nudges her thigh, but she ignores it, taking a moment to just look. She enjoys having control over him, enjoys the rush of pleasure and power it gives her. And as much as he grumbles and curses under his breath, she thinks he likes it too. He could break free of the scarf at any moment, but he doesn’t; it’s a lovely sign.
“I think you like this,” she says, dragging her fingernails over his chest and stomach. The windows to her little attic apartment are wide open, the curtains shifting with the April breeze. Spring has arrived at last, and with spring, a well-earned day off for the both of them.
Philippe huffs, a shock of hair falling across his brow. “At your mercy, witch?”
Biting her lip, she shifts her hips against his and is rewarded with a low moan. “Temporarily, yes,” she says with a satisfied smile.
“I will pay you back in full,” he says, voice low and gaze hot.
Oh, she expects so. She’s looking forward to it.
*
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ahaha. oh phillipe, just go with it.
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Oooh, now I really want to reread. YOUR FAULT.
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