Sunday Snog 218: More from G&V (#bdsm #sundaysnog #kiss #romance #99cents)

Happy Sunday! For me it's very happy indeed. Just got another fantastic five star review for G&V, from JJ's Kinky Books. "Theo is a unique character and I instantly fell in love with him," says the reviewer. I know what she means. I adore him too.

Guess I'll treat you to another snog from the novel! And when you're done here, don't forget to visit Victoria's Sunday Snog page for more steamy Sunday kisses. Ms. Blisse's kiss is at the top. Scroll down for other links.

Oh—and if you haven't yet voted for G&V in the TRR best books contest, would you be willing to take thirty seconds to do so now? Just click here, then click on the big blue button above the cover. That's all it takes!

Thank you! Now on with the snog!

“On your knees.” I haven’t the slightest idea what I’m doing, but I figure that’s as good a way as any to begin. “Don’t move.”

Rachel sinks to the carpet with impressive speed. Without further instruction, she adopts the classic position, sitting back on her heels with her back arched and her hands on her thighs. My cock hardens at the familiar posture. Who knows, maybe she watches kinky porn too.

The white of my shirt contrasts nicely with her olive complexion, but right now I really want her naked. I rummage in the plastic bag on the couch until I find the shears. Circling behind her, I grab the collar.

“Hold very still.” I hear her intake of breath, just before the steel blades slice into the fabric. I cut my way down her spine, until the ruined garment flaps open, then peel the rags off her arms. I ignore the pang of guilt I feel at destroying a perfectly good shirt. As Rachel would tell me, it’s only money.

That’s better. Now I’ve got a fine view of her luscious breasts, so full and high, topped with the juicy raspberries of her nipples. Her sleek, strong thighs part slightly, revealing wiry curls that are visibly damp. Pussy scent hangs in the air around her glorious body. I swell further as I stalk around her, admiring the elegant curve of her back and the way the ample flesh of her ass spills over her little heels.

“Clasp your hands behind your head.” She complies almost before the order is out of my mouth. The slight change further elevates her tits. Oh, but those rosy nipples just cry out for some clamps! I’ve got some clothespins that would do the trick—just the thought makes my cock throb—but we’ve got to go through the formalities first.

Facing her again, I weigh her breasts in my palms, tracing the dark areolae with my thumbs. She shivers at my teasing touch. “I want to tie you up, Rachel, and do things to your body. Torture these nipples a bit. Maybe whip you with my belt. Stick things into your pussy, your mouth, or your ass. I won’t hurt you, not any more than you can bear. But I need your consent first.”

Her wide eyes remind me of some anime character. Her lips are slack and soft, as though inviting the sort of invasion I describe. Her chest rises and falls with her quick, shallow breathing. She looks young, succulent, needy and a bit scared. The self-confident billionaire entrepreneur has totally vanished.

Power surges through me. She wants what I have to offer. I just have to make her admit it.

I loose my cock from my jeans and pump my erection a few times, just for effect. I think I’m bigger and harder than ever before. Her worried gaze flicks down to my cock. “Do you agree, Rachel? Can I do what I want to you?”

She swallows. She squirms. This is more difficult for her than I would have guessed. It was, after all, her idea.

“Well? Speak up, Dr. Zelinsky.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

She squares her shoulders and meets my eyes bravely. “Yes, I consent. You can do what you want, Theo.”

“Good girl.” I bend to reward her with a kiss. Her mouth is sweet and hungry. “If I’m hurting you too much and you want me to stop, say ‘Apple’. Understand?”

“Yes, yes, of course. ‘Apple’. Now would you please get on with it?”

I chuckle. “Patience, Rachel. I’m in charge here. It’s not your place to make demands.” She lets out a squawk as I rather brutally twist her nipple. “Is it?”

“Ow—no—no, sir.”

Hmm. Where did that come from?