I pulled the Wartenberg wheel from my pocket and sat down on the edge of the mattress. Rick shifted a little, the cuffs clinking against the metal frame.
For the longest time, I did nothing. He had to have known I was there since he hadn’t heard me leave and he’d apparently felt the mattress dip, but with the blindfold in place and no sounds to give away my next move, he had no way of knowing what was next.
I touched the Wartenberg wheel to the middle of his abs. Instantly, every muscle in his body tensed, his abs pulling tight as he gasped. As I rolled it up the center toward his chest and onto his breastbone, his spine lifted off the bed, pushing his skin against the spikes.
“You like that, don’t you?”
“It’s…” He shivered. “Different.”
“Mmhmm.” I lifted the wheel off, then brought it down on his pec and circled his nipple.
“Shit.” He tilted his head back, probably trying to channel some nervous energy but afraid to move while the wheel was against such a sensitive area.
Oh yes. This was going to be fun.
Every inch of his body was a different place to be mercilessly teased, and he rewarded every spiky taunt with the most delicious responses. Rolling the wheel along the inside of his upper arm brought out a groan that he almost tamped down, but soft fingertips down his rib cage killed whatever attempt he made to silence himself. Drawing ever-smaller circles on his abs and hips, inching closer and closer to his cock and balls, made the muscles quiver and contract. Teasing one nipple with the wheel and one with my fingertip made him thrash, as if his body couldn’t comprehend those two sensations at the same time.
How many times had I surreptitiously gazed at him in meetings, wishing I had a shot at him? Wishing I could see what he kept hidden beneath those flawlessly tailored suits?
And now…
Now here we were.
His lean, beautiful body stretched out in front of me, tied down and turned on. Fuck. I didn’t always incorporate sex into a scene like this, but I didn’t usually have a submissive who aroused me quite as much as he did. My erection was starting to get annoying, and what better way to relieve that tension than driving Rick a little further out of his mind?
Without a word, I unfastened the cuffs around his ankles.
“Lift your hips.”
He pushed himself up, and I slid a pillow under him.
“Back down.”
He sank down onto the pillow, and the handcuffs creaked and jingled as he opened and closed his fists. He must’ve known what I had in mind, especially as I got up, undressed and rummaged around in a nearby drawer. If not, between the tearing foil, the soft crinkling of the condom as I rolled it on, and the click of the lube bottle, he was probably catching on by now.
Oh, if he only knew.
I joined him on the bed again. “Legs apart.”
He spread them obediently, and I knelt between them.
“I’m going to fuck you,” I said, “but you’re not going to come.”
His hands tightened into fists and stayed that way.
“Understand?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Understand?”
“Yes.” He took a deep breath, and as he released it, his hands slowly relaxed. “I won’t… I won’t come.”
“Good.” I poured some lube on my fingers, and started teasing his ass with one. As I slid it inside him, working it in a little at a time so I wouldn’t hurt him, he moaned. His legs were shaky, toes curling into the sheets. The second finger prompted a longer, lower moan, one that reverberated down my spine and made me thankful as fuck he was blindfolded. His eyes were probably squeezed shut anyway, judging by the tension in his forehead and cheeks, but he didn’t need to see me struggling to keep my breathing slow and even. I was beyond ready to be balls-deep inside him, and he was ready to take me—both fingers moved easily in and out of his tight hole—but I wanted to draw this out. Tease him. Torture him.
With one hand, I finger-fucked him, and with the other, I ran the Wartenberg wheel over his skin. Hips. Thighs. Inner thighs. Each time I rolled it anywhere near his cock and balls, he clenched around my fingers, and each time I crooked my fingers inside him, he arched into the Wartenberg wheel’s spikes.
Carefully, as gently as possible, I rolled the tiny wheel across his balls.
He tensed but didn’t move, and tightened so hard I couldn’t move my fingers at all for a second. “Fuck. That’s…”
“Breathe,” I said.
He exhaled slowly. Then he took in a deep breath through his nose. As he let that out, I ran the spines over his balls again, and he shuddered as the most amazing, helpless, strangled cry escaped his lips.
“What’s wrong?” I taunted, rolling it back and forth over that sensitive area. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”
“N-no. Doesn’t hurt. Just—”
I ran the wheel along his rock-hard dick.