Victor leaned in towards her, their faces nearly meeting, now only a hand’s width apart. He swiped the small bottle off the table without looking and held it up.
“We should try this before it gets too warm.”
He smirked at her, and used his teeth to pull out the little cork on top. He took a small swig, before offering it to her with an expectant expression.
Raiva took it from him and decided to copy him.
It was delicious, and did indeed taste like a lemon flavored sweet of some sort. It was clearly strong too, despite the unassuming flavor. She could feel heat running to her face almost immediately after swallowing the liquid.
She looked in his eyes and purposefully licked her lips.
“It’s good.”
He inched closer with an almost dazed look on his face; partially due to the strong liquor, but mostly stemming from her direct, calm allure. His cheeks became tinged with a pale pink.
He’s almost making it too easy.
She met his lips with hers, and the two fell into a long, deep kiss as they tasted the sweet lemon on each other.
When the two parted, Raiva playfully took another sip of the liquor, being careful to let a drop slowly roll down from her lips to her neck.
Victor’s eyes became fixated upon it. He leaned in and licked it up, stopping it from touching her blouse.
The feeling of his tongue on her skin was almost electric, garnering a mellow, low gasp from her. She sighed and tilted her head to the side, prompting him to repeat it. His breathing was just irregular enough for her to pick up on it.
She pushed herself back a bit, slowly undoing the buttons on her blouse one by one. His stare was fixed on her fingers as they moved further and further down. A red tint began to spread on his face, as he watched the slow, deliberate movement.
Do you like being teased, Victor?
She smirked and murmured to him, “Close your eyes.”
Had Raiva not been watching him closely, she would have been surprised when he bit his lip and obediently complied.
She pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket. Cassian’s handkerchief, the kind that was uselessly large. Leaning towards him, she tied it around his head to cover his eyes, making him momentarily flinch at the unexpected silky feel of the fabric.
Whispering, she said, “Untie my corset, Victor. No peeking.”
His lips parted in an almost timid excitement as he carefully leaned forwards, hands first, to locate the strings. He fumbled for a moment, moving his hands up the ribbed structure of the fabric. As soon as his fingers found the string tied at the top, he began to move much more competently.
Raiva smiled at the scene before her. All at once he seemed endearingly timid at her words, but thankfully retained the competency of experience.
The corset began to loosen as Victor pulled the strings out of its eyelets, slowly revealing her pale skin, though he himself was left to imagine the sight. He had brushed against the skin once or twice on accident, his hands nearly retracting from the surprising lack of chemise underneath. Eventually he reached the end, tugging the string out of the last eyelet and letting it drop onto the floor. Her corset shifted at the sides and sat loosely in the gap between her skin and still-tucked-in but opened shirt. It was an odd sensation.
She eyed him and said in a low, stern voice, “Pick it back up.”
“But-“
Putting a finger to his lips she stopped him, and simply repeated herself.
“Pick it up.”
He was about to protest again, when she ran her finger down across his throat, gently running her nail against the soft, pale skin.
Victor shuddered and clumsily made his way to the floor, fishing around for it on all fours. This went on for long enough for him to become redder and more embarrassed, since she carefully tugged it just out of reach when he was close. When she felt like he’d been tormented enough, she pushed it towards him. Relieved that he had found it, he sat back up, simply waiting while looking in her approximate direction.
“Good job,” she hummed, causing him to do a sharp intake of breath.
Oh?
She smirked at his reaction.
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After reaching for the bottle again, she filled her mouth halfway with the sweet beverage and grabbed the hair at the back of his head to pull him up towards her. He let out a short groan and had to catch himself from toppling, placing his hands on each side of her as she pressed his head down towards her.
His lips touched hers, and when they did, she forced his mouth open with her tongue, surprising him with the suddenness of it. The short delay in reaction time caused him to spill a bit of the liquid onto her chest, running down the middle, and pooling in her belly button. She grabbed a hold of his braid.
“You spilled on me Victor.”
He gasped at the tugging and her firm voice.
“I’m sorry.”
“You should clean it up,” she said, smiling at his reaction. “But of course you have to ask first.”
“Ask-?” he panted.
“Ask if you can please clean me up.”
“I-,” he halted for a moment, perhaps finally fully realizing what exactly was going on.
Come on, Victor.
He hesitated another moment, his breathing a little ragged, before he finally gave in.
“May I please clean it up?” he asked in a less timid, more performatively subservient tone.
I’ll take it, I suppose. Attitude and all.
She grinned and caressed his face with the back of her hand.
“You may.”
He lowered his head, carefully feeling his way to the spill with his hands, from the waistband of her skirt and up. The gentle sensation was inexplicably intense on her skin, as his soft, delicate fingertips glided across.
When he reached the part on either side of her belly button and accidentally spread the liquid about with his fingers, she shuddered from his touch.
He had found the liquid, now warm from the heat of her skin, and began licking it. His tongue was wide and soft and wet.
Each lick sent a wave of buzz throughout her stomach, soon turning her soft gasps into airy, half subdued moans.
Raiva found herself even more sensitive than usual, which seemed to prompt excitement in Victor, who himself began moaning when he felt her react to his touch. The sounds seemed to unlock something in her mind, and she began falling into her role more. He was on his knees again, leaning over her back-leaning torso.
“Further to the right, Victor.”
“Up.”
“Again.”
She began ordering him in between deep breaths and the waves of warmth. He seemed to intentionally only get the edges of the liquid, trying to tease her and draw the whole scenario out to his liking.
“You’re doing a poor job at this. Left.”
At her insult he shivered and twitched a little. She smirked and lifted her leg, rubbing against the bulging, hardening spot in his trousers. Flinching, he left out a whimper.
“Ah-“
“Do you like it when I talk down to you, Victor?”
“I-,” he stammered, gasping when she gently pressed her foot against him. “Yes.”
Lords, this feels too good.
“Well, you’re not worth it. Now get back to cleaning up your mess.”
He shuddered before doing as she commanded, almost desperately running his tongue along her skin, finally finding all traces of the liquid.
“Well done,” she smiled, making her voice a little more soothing for a moment. “But you missed a spot.”
He seemed confused, until she moved his hands further up her torso, until they were cupping her breasts.
“Are you going to apologize for being sloppy?”
He smiled.
“I’m sorry.”
“Will it happen again?”
“No.”
“Good. Then get to it.”
“Yes,” he replied, finding her breast with his tongue.
He moved across and around it, clearly teasing her and avoiding the center. His thumbs ran along the edges, toying with her.
“Victor,” she said in a low but firm voice. “Are you fooling around?”
She increased the pressure of her foot on his bulge, causing him to moan instinctively.
“Raiva,” he breathed, pleadingly.
“Do it properly.”
Immediately he closed his mouth around her nipple, gliding his tongue over it, from soft to hard. His hands cupped her breasts harder, and his thumb carefully stimulated her free nipple, and the heat began rushing through her.
“Don’t stop, Victor.”
Her breathing was steady but hot and shallow.
As his nimble hands and tongue moved around and across her sensitive spots she felt a rush of pleasure, eyeing him, and relishing in the control she held.
As the heat in her rushed and the touch of the obedient, beautiful man crouching beneath her started pushing her over the edge, she was struck by a strange sense of clarity, heightening her senses to his touch and her own pleasure. When the swirling ball of heat built and began moving downwards, she had to grip the edges of the cushion underneath her, and her soft moans became deeper and more intense.
His breath was fast and his mouth and hands became increasingly frantic in an attempt to please her. Just as Raiva noted this, she was sent over the edge, her orgasm like a sweet release, and all tension momentarily leaving her body as she gasped for air from the force of it.
After taking a few moment to catch her breath, with Victor still panting from breathlessness below her, she leaned forwards, lowering herself off the sofa to sit level with him.
She dragged her nail down his face, neck and torso, ending up at the waistband of his pants, which she proceeded to run along while watching the small gasps and shakes he produced. Then, in a more firm motion, she ran her hand over his hardness.
He quivered at her touch and leaned his face forward desperately, trying to do or find something with his lips parted and expression forlorn.
She grazed his ear with her lips and whispered, “Is this what you wanted so desperately?”
He gasped as she grabbed him and squeezed.
“I-, y- yes,” his voice sounded shaky.
“What do you want, Victor?”
“I-,” he breathed, confused.
She waited a heartbeat for him to continue, but he didn’t.
“Do you want me to touch you?”
There was no hesitation this time, when he gasped “Yes.”
She flattened her hand and rubbed it against him, letting him move his hips with her, finding his preferred rhythm.
When his breathing turned from unsteady to ragged and fast, she asked him again, “What do you want, Victor?”
“I-, ah, I- I want you to keep touching me,” he stammered.
She smiled and whispered seductively in his ear again.
“Good boy.”
He cried out, his body taken by a sudden, intense shudder, and she felt him twitching underneath her hand, the fabric becoming wetter.
She bit his ear lightly and pulled away, standing up on her feet.
He was still laying there, panting, flushed, as she closed her corset roughly with deft movements and buttoned her shirt.
By the time Victor sat up and removed his blindfold, she was taking a swig of the bottle, and moved to leave.
She briefly made eye contact with him before grinning and exiting, leaving the door open, enjoying his perplexed facial expression.
How the tables have turned.
She floated down the stairs, bidding farewell to Gunther and paying the bill on her way out.
“See you around,” he laughed, enjoying her high spirits.
“You too,” she smiled, walking into the warm sunlight.