Martina finally prevailed. He knew she would. If she was feeling clever she could have taken him off guard when she was free, but instead she immediately flung herself against him, flush with success and arousal. "Oh Ron, I got it," she cried. "I can pick locks now!"
He hoisted her up. The satin absorbed her body heat and felt slippery in his grip. She had a lot of thigh, something he learned he liked in a woman, and the bed bounced when he tossed her down on it. She gazed up at him adoringly, excited with the thoughts of what he might do to her now. Then she realized he also brought the cuffs and she made a squeak of outrage when he cuffed both her wrists to the bed.
"But that's both hands, Ron," she cried.
He breathed warm air on the satin bunched at her belly. He turned his cheek flat against it, felt his hot breath held in by the material. The cuffs rattled when his hands fell away from her upper arms, the better to scoop underneath her hips.
"That's both hands," she protested, "how'm I supposed to get out of these now?"
"Oh, you won't be able to." He nosed the edge of the satin aside. Kissed her belly. His lips felt her skin go taut when she inhaled. The sound of the ceiling fan was a steady soft rhythm, and the strains of music were coming up jazzy and sensuous from below.
Ron was in no hurry to go anywhere-- Room 511 or no. The man that waited there could wait a little longer. Could entertain himself. This was Vegas, after all.
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timeasmymeasure
Girl from Ipanema 6/?
Date: 2012-06-14 04:04 am (UTC)He hoisted her up. The satin absorbed her body heat and felt slippery in his grip. She had a lot of thigh, something he learned he liked in a woman, and the bed bounced when he tossed her down on it. She gazed up at him adoringly, excited with the thoughts of what he might do to her now. Then she realized he also brought the cuffs and she made a squeak of outrage when he cuffed both her wrists to the bed.
"But that's both hands, Ron," she cried.
He breathed warm air on the satin bunched at her belly. He turned his cheek flat against it, felt his hot breath held in by the material. The cuffs rattled when his hands fell away from her upper arms, the better to scoop underneath her hips.
"That's both hands," she protested, "how'm I supposed to get out of these now?"
"Oh, you won't be able to." He nosed the edge of the satin aside. Kissed her belly. His lips felt her skin go taut when she inhaled. The sound of the ceiling fan was a steady soft rhythm, and the strains of music were coming up jazzy and sensuous from below.
Ron was in no hurry to go anywhere-- Room 511 or no. The man that waited there could wait a little longer. Could entertain himself. This was Vegas, after all.