As soon as I get home, I put the pot in the refrigerator and then go to the living room. I find my prisoner exactly where I left her: tied up in the chair in the middle of the room. Yulia’s head is lowered, her long blond hair veiling most of her upper body. She doesn’t move as I approach, and I realize she must’ve fallen asleep.
Crouching in front of her, I begin untying her ankles, trying to ignore my reaction to her nearness. With her legs bound apart, I can see the tender folds between her thighs, and I recall with sudden vividness how her p***y tasted—and felt around my c**k.
Fuck.
I look down at my hands, determined to focus on my task. It doesn’t help. As my fingers brush over her silky skin, I notice that her feet are long and slender, like the rest of her. Despite her height, h
