Chapter 22: Dangerous Deception: Chapter 22

“How do they feel?” Raffaele stands over me with his hand gripping the small chain that links my handcuffs together. “Not too tight?”

“No.” I shake my head, even as my heart begins to race. Being bound almost takes me back to that night I don’t want to remember, but the thought of being restrained under Raffaele’s care is exciting. Knowing how easily the cuffs can break means it’s on me to not pull too hard, giving me the safety net I crave.

“Good.” Raffaele releases the chain and then lays his palm flat over my abdomen. I’m flat on a table made of soft rubber in my underwear with an array of toys I chose lying next to me on a tray. He wasn’t kidding when he said we would try it all.

“Now remember, if you need me to stop at any point, then you let me know, okay?”

I nod.

“Tell me with your words.”

“If I need you to stop at any point, I will,” I repeat back to him.

“And if you’re unable to speak?”

“Then I tap you three times anywhere on your body.”

“Good girl.”

All the muscles of my core pull tight and I press my thighs together as warmth flushes my face. I didn’t expect such a physical reaction to that kind of praise, but I’m here for it. Raffaele removes his shirt, letting me gaze up at his handsome, muscular chest, and my mouth runs dry. Then I follow his hand to the array of toys I selected.

“Do you have a preference for where I start?” he asks softly.

“No,” I say, gazing back up at him. “I trust you.”

Raffaele’s eyes meet mine and there’s a soft warmth in them that I’ve never noticed before. He leans down and kisses me, and then the games begin.

Most of them I chose out of curiosity as to what they would feel like, but Raffaele clearly knows a thing or two about pleasure. He starts with a silly soft feather that sends goosebumps up and down my arms and legs from its first touch. It sweeps all over my body, leaving not an inch untouched, and when it reaches the hem of my bra, Raffaele uses the feather and his fingers to remove it. The kiss of the feather over my stiff nipples is a strange sensation, a ticklish pressure that almost feels like it’s in my mind despite what I can see.

An urge to be touched more firmly surges through me, making me arch into the touch of the feather, but Raffaele keeps it light. He uses the same method between my legs when removing my panties, and the whisper-soft kiss of the feathers over my pussy is more like torture.

I’m panting by the time he switches from the feather to a soft, flexible rod that he snaps in his hands. When it touches my skin, a shock of cold spears through me.

“Oh, my God!”

“Too much?” Raffaele asks, holding the end of the small, cold rod to my nipple.

“No, no.” I shake my head. “Just… strange. It’s nice.”

I think. The chill after such soft, subtle teasing from the feather is confusing. Part of me wants to roll away from the cold, but the bite of the chill is welcoming after such ticklish teasing. By the time he slides the cold rod over my pussy, nestling it against my clit, I’m panting heavily and moaning with each breath.

The rod stays against my clit, stroking back and forth while Raffaele lubes up a dildo in the shape of a tentacle and presses it against my entrance. Curiosity is why I picked that. It was an excellent choice.

The second he slides it into me, I arch off the table with a cry and a whimper. The cold against my clit almost keeps my orgasm at bay, but the pressure makes me rock my hips up. Raffaele focuses on fucking me slowly with the tentacle, and my mind goes completely blank.

Every nob and ridge on that dildo strokes deep inside me, caressing over my G-spot with repeated movements so that there’s no lull in the pleasure. I don’t know where to focus. The cold strokes against my clit? The tantalizing pressure stroking every inch of my walls inside my pussy? Raffaele’s warm forearm brushing against my thigh?

I come with a cry, and Raffaele continues to fuck me through it with the toy, but even my orgasm doesn’t signal the end. He removes the cold rod and soothes the chill with long, flat licks of his tongue. The tentacle dildo is discarded in favor of a G-spot stimulator that slides inside me with ease. But when he turns it on, a sharp shock of pleasure pours through me and my hips jolt away. Only, there’s nowhere for me to go. The toy remains firmly inside me, and I’m helpless against the onslaught.

And that’s not all. Raffaele places a clitoral stimulator against my clit and turns it on, sending another rush of pleasure through me. The suckling motions of the warm rubber feel ten times more intense due to how sensitive my clit is from the cold. Then he kisses up my body and massages my breasts with his hands and tongue.

Then he chooses the pinwheel.

Pain isn’t something I considered to be erotic, but the pinwheel was the least daunting of the toys. Placing it against my ribcage, he rolls the pinwheel over the swell of my breast and each prick feels like his nails are grazing my skin. It’s sharper over my nipples, and I yelp but don’t ask him to stop. The sharp pressure is almost overwhelming, and the toy buzzing between my legs causes me to lose all coherency.

Raffaele talks me through everything he does. When I come from the toys, he switches them out for vibrators. When I come from those, he rolls me over and uses the crop to spank my ass pretty and red. I don’t expect that to be erotic until he slides two fingers inside me and I come with a squeal.

It’s exhausting, and Raffaele gives me some respite—by sliding the ring gag into my mouth and then easing his thick, hot cock past my lips. His heady scent makes my eyes roll, and I’m so relaxed that his cock slides deep into my throat in one thrust. While his fucking my mouth isn’t entirely unpleasant, my focus is on him.

The sounds he makes when the pleasure hits just good, the little gasps that escape him when I grasp his balls and massage them in my palm, and the grunts that follow as he fucks closer and closer to orgasm. When he comes, he pours his load down my throat and holds himself there, maintaining eye contact until my eyes water and I gag on his thickness. Only then does he pull himself free and kiss me repeatedly with praise pouring from his lips.

He pulls three more orgasms out of me with various other toys, with the last being more intense. A vibrating pill rattles against my nipples, a vibrator buzzes deep within my pussy, and Raffaele’s tongue dances back and forth over my asshole while the most powerful vibration I’ve ever felt in my life buzzes in waves over my swollen, sensitive clit.

“I can’t,” I gasp breathlessly, tossing my head back and forth. “I can’t do it again!”

“Are you sure?” Raffaele murmurs, kissing the soft red bruising on my ass. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” I whine. “No, no, don’t stop. Don’t⁠—”

I come so hard that my world goes white. My body locks up and my tired muscles turn to stone as I’m suspended in an overwhelming rush of pleasure. My pussy pulses rhythmically, sweat shines across my skin, and my heart pounds so hard that my teeth shake.

It’s the best orgasm of my life.

When I finally sag down onto the table, Raffaele’s there with his arms around me, kissing me and praising me like I’ve done something way more wondrous than an orgasm.

I’ve never had great sex like this. I didn’t even know it was possible.

As Raffaele soothes me and begins the aftercare, my lazy mind wanders with one single realization.

I like him.

And worse than that, I think I like him a lot.