Baby mine

In the morning.

He liked restraining her. She loved it. He used her scarf to tie her hands, the scarf was silky and didn't hurt. She couldn't touch him. He kissed her deeply. He kept one hand on the scarf, hands high over her head. He deepened the kiss, his tongue gently exploring her mouth. She explored with her own tongue, but he became tight lipped.

She got the message, he was in control. He moved down to her breasts. To take them into his mouth, he had to let go. She moved her hands instantly, wanting to feel his skin so much. He stopped dead. He put her hands back above her head. This time when he let her hands go she did not move.

She couldn't move, did not want him to stop ever. She was gasping by the time, he removed his jeans. He entered her in one swift stroke. She gave herself over to him, trusting him completely. He thrust into her heat, building slowly. It was the kisses that meant so much more.

His lips soft but firm. He claimed her. His body seemed to be telling her in every way possible, you are mine. She didn't need to hear it, she felt it. Her body responded to him, echoing his. She longed to say yes I am yours, always, always.