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[ Not good enough. She approaches again, presses her hips against him. ]

You.

[ She grabs his free hand and brings it to the waistband. ]

You want to. Come on.

[He steps away again, making a point of looking irritated -- and there is mild irritation, but he pushes that aside, getting a better idea of what she's doing.]

I do, but I'm not going to. I don't think you'll respect me in the morning.

[That's more than half a joke, albeit a deadpan one. He reaches out to grab her wrist, intending to bring it to the waistband he's just pulled away from.]

[ True enough, that statement. She's not liable to continue respecting his authority in these situations if he were to give into her doing this. Which probably means she'd lose interest in even trying this again. He's smart enough to catch onto that. She responds to it with a small scoff of laughter.

When he grabs her wrist, she resists his moving her hand, but only marginally. Her hand is eventually bent to the waistband and she hooks her fingers into it, now obeying readily and pushing the skirt down. She takes her reward right away, reaching out for him. ]

Good.

[Now that she's done what he told her to do, he pulls her in close, her nakedness against his soft clothing. He kisses her at first, several times, each one a little longer than most that they've tried so far. One of his hands wanders down to cup her smooth bare bottom.]

[ The kissing is nice, though with the aggressive mood she's in it's not going to happen without her nipping at his lips occasionally. When he sets his hand on her ass she lets out a pleased exhale, bending her knee to afford him better access, perching her leg on his hip. ]

If you're not careful, this is going to be a re-run of yesterday.

[ Because the fact of the matter is the arousal that comes from being ordered around is indeed partly grounded in the fact that it forces her to slow down—if he lets her take control of the situation it's liable to be just as rushed as yesterday was. That's just the way she is. ]

[His tiny smile is intentionally mysterious, and he slowly shakes his head.]

No, it isn't. Well... maybe in one way.

[He's beginning to get hard, and knows that she can probably feel it. He runs his fingertips down her thigh to near her knee, where he pats it and then kisses her again.]

Take my shirt off.

[ She likes the look of that smile. She nips him again, now at his jaw line, and starts sucking at the skin while she works his buttons. After this, well, she's just going to grab his hand, covering it with her own, and attempt to bring it under her leg to her lower lips. ]

[This is bordering on amusing, now. He wants very much to touch between her thighs, but it's a temptation to which he can't yet give in. He turns his hand around, changing its angle, and attempts to grasp her hand and pull it back up.]

When you've taken my shirt all the way off, I'll touch you. Not before.

[ That's about when he hits the threshold he needs to hit to show he is going to take charge of this situation. She lets out a little hum of arousal, not fighting this time when he takes hold of her hand. She sets it where he guides it, then spreads her fingers wide and smooths both hands over his bare chest. She tugs at the lapels of his shirt, pulling it backward to clear his shoulders. She's short, not something she's used to experiencing, but in this position she's just the right height to continue gnawing under his jaw bone at the flesh of his throat.

Her hands are free to do what they will now. She grabs at the sash, then hangs on, putting traction on the piece of cloth but not trying to yank it away. And she does a full-body grind, like she did on the dance floor yesterday, curling the leg that rests on his hip around his waist. ]

Ryuuzaki. Don't let me fuck with you.

[ They're words of encouragement, more than anything—he's on the right track, but he keeps waiting for her to act and then reacting to it. More than anything right now she wants to be grabbed and handled roughly and to have her hands tied up, but he seems to be seeking something more gentle than what she has in mind. Or something more reciprocal than she's seeking. Whatever it is, she follows that up with bringing her other hand to her own mound, blocking him from doing the same. ]

[He hasn't wanted to tie her hands. He's wanted her to have them free to use, for the time being, but she seems to be purposely trying to get him to restrain her earlier than he'd intended to. That in itself probably counts as "fucking with him." Likewise, the way she's shielding herself... he's getting the idea that if she didn't want him to stop her, she'd say the word. And all of this is both frustrating and enticing.

He reaches down and firmly grasps her other wrist.]

Don't assume that's what I'm doing. It's hard to decide whether to tie your hands or gag you.

[But she's making the most trouble with her hands right now, isn't she? He does what he can to get them behind her back, with swift, definite movements.]

[ Her hands go willingly behind her back when he does that, her foot returning to the floor to stabilize herself. Whether snapping at her is out of feigned irritation or genuine doesn't matter in its effect on her—she makes a pleased sound and works her mouth into the hollow under the corner of his jaw, writhing against him a little. She sucks on the skin there, nibbling lightly with her teeth. ]

If you gagged me, I couldn't do this.

[It's tempting to respond to her kiss, but he doesn't; a moment later, he pulls his head away, then looks down at her.]

And if I tied your hands, there are other things you wouldn't be able to do. Isn't it a matter of which I'm more interested in using?

[Well, he's perfectly capable of undressing both of them, and they're almost all the way there anyway. He holds her wrists with one hand and turns her around roughly with the other, then works to tie them.]

[ She tries standing on tiptoe to nip at him again, but for once he has actually straightened up enough to pull her desired target out of reach. When he spins her around she leans into him, making the act of tying more difficult. ]

Guess you'll have to make sure I know my place then.

[ She backs against him when her wrists are bound and feels blindly around for his cock, rubbing her back against his chest. ]

I've never seen anyone so completely determined to be naughty.

[That's said dryly, and it's nowhere near true, although it is true within this particular context. She's testing his imagination: he does like to be obeyed, and is used to it, but not in quite this way.

Meanwhile, she's rubbing his chest and his cock, and he hasn't told her to.]

Your place is wherever I want it to be. [He steers her towards the end of the bed.] I appreciate your enthusiasm, but it's out of bounds. Bend over.

[ He's definitely found the role she wants him to be playing. It's okay that it took a bit to goad him into it; it doesn't diminish the fact that him ordering her around like this turns her on. She lets him shove her bodily over to the bed before she leans over it. Without her elbows to lean on she's forced to hold herself up here, and she stands there, full of anticipation, and glances at him over her shoulder. ]

[He nudges her knees apart with one of his.]

Don't touch the bed.

[No threats, for now: if he makes them, she'll probably test them, and he'll have to follow through on them.

He holds her tied wrists with one hand, then licks his first two fingers and presses them between her thighs, from behind.]

Ah—!

[ She presses her ass back against his hand, tilting her pelvis up, knees coming apart. She had fallen in love with his fingers during their last encounter—they're long and graceful and skilled. And now, he knows how she prefers him to use them. ]

[He thinks he may have come up with a suitable game. He rests the tips of his fingers just at her opening, then leans over and murmurs into her ear,]

Shhh. You've been talking too much. It's made a lot of trouble for you.

Count to one hundred in your head, and don't make a sound while you're doing it.

[Then he pushes them in -- first slowly, then again, faster, with a little swirl when they're almost fully withdrawn. One thousand one, one thousand two.]

[ It's true, along with the way he's finally figured out she wants to be commanded, that he has a sexy voice. He has a nice accent, and his lips brushing her ear and his low tone send a shiver down her back. She eyes him and tries to turn her head to nip at his skin, already beginning her counting. She might be tempted to push his boundaries, but the contact of his hand is worth obeying for. ]

[He doesn't really stop to think about how this is the first time he's done exactly this, or how enticing he finds all of it -- they're both aware of the latter, and he'd rather keep her ignorant of the former. He doesn't kiss her when she tries to nip at him -- not yet.

After about twenty thrusts and swirls that start slow and increase in speed, he pulls his fingers out and pauses, just for a moment, to gauge her reaction. A noise of complaint would be a violation of his command.]

[ She tilts her hips along with the motion of his hand, eyes closing, planning what she will say in precisely 79 seconds when she's done counting. It's going to matter.

When he removes his hand the absence of his touch is intolerable and she tilts her hips back again. It's the first time since they started she's felt actual stakes to following his orders, and she does decide to test it—she doesn't whimper or cry out or make any other vocal sound, but she lets out a harsh voiceless exhale through her nose, and brings her own hands lower down her back. The implication should be obvious: return to fingering her, or she'll find a way to do it herself. ]

[Voiceless is what's important, and he decides that her compliance is good enough. Still, he decides to warn her:]

Careful.

[Then he bends forward a little, reaching around her front, and slips the same two fingers into the same place from the front. When he resumes fingering her, he also occasionally grinds the heel of his palm over her clit.]

[ It's an awkward position, but it feels good, and that's what matters. She has to smirk at being able to get away with pushing his boundaries, and she continues to make occasional voiceless sounds to show her appreciation of the sensations, just little scoffs low in her throat along with panting as she comes close to climax. The countdown itself seems to turn into a countdown to when she's going to allow herself to come, because she wants to express the pleasure of it vocally when she does. So, with a minute of counting time left, she doesn't ride against his hand like yesterday, but lets his motions determine the pressure and the speed. ]

[He does what she'd shown him that she likes, adding the penetration and the little twists of his palm to it; the way she's responding shows that it's working. Seventy-seven, seventy eight....

It's also working for him: something about it is past being arousing simply because it's a sexual situation that he's involved in, and moving deeply into more specific desires of his own.

His pants are becoming uncomfortable now, so with his free hand, he unties the fastening and tugs the waistband down to his hips. His cock springs out and brushes against her bottom, and when it does, he inhales as softly and sharply as he has every time she's bitten him.]

[ She's very close to making a noise when she feels that happen, but she manages to hold it back by biting her lip. She's closer to the end of the countdown now, and quite worked up, so she begins pumping her hips against his hand, but also pressing back to feel out his dick with her ass. As it turns out, she miscalculates just how much she can take of this before it sets her off, and with only 5 or 6 seconds to go the muscles in her groin begin to contract. She lets out a long, harsh exhale, trying not to give in to the sensation, not quite yet, but this sort of flattens out the crest of the sensation and causes the orgasm to weaken. But now time is up. ]

Fuck—

[ It's high-pitched and breathless, and she presses her hips down against his hand. ]

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