Drabble: Sweet Music
Bruce felt his breath catch in his throat as the first golden strand wrapped around his wrist. He could only feel Diana’s hair brushing against his face as she worked, Clark’s fingers leisurely brushing across his skin.
He could only imagine what he looked like now.
Stripped, spread, blindfolded, and bound.
Exposed. Open.
He pulled at the bonds, just to test them, but he knew that they would not (could not) break. And would not be removed until they decided it was time.
They both laughed lowly, tenor and alto merging and blending like the most beautiful music.
Gone was the white noise of secrets and masks. Just the clear, sweet sounds of pleasure, their soft voices, their lips and fingers on his skin.