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cupping her breasts, trapping her nipples between my middle and pointer fingers. I pull up, her body arching off the bed. “Don’t move your hands.” I tell her, when she goes to lift them off the bed.
“I thought you were going to tie me down?” she moans. I smile, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“We’re working on trust. I trust you to keep your hands above your head.”
“Oh.” She lets out a disappointed breath, making me smile and her eyes narrow. My fiancée doesn’t like to admit it, but she is definitely a dirty girl.
“Keep your hands where they are.” I lean over the side of the bed, grabbing the first thing I find, which happens to be her lace panties.
“What are you doing with those?”
“You’ll see,” I say, pulling her up a little higher on the bed so her hands reach the headboard. I cross her wrists over one another, then use the lacy panties. I wind them around her wrist, and then the slat in the headboard. “Now, where was I?”