He had seen her before, reading and sipping her tea next to the big window at the coffee shop. The way the sunlight played on her golden curls, across her freckled shoulders — it made him ache. Today she was wearing a little sundress, with a single tie in the back. He ran his tongue over his teeth, imagining what that soft skin would feel like against his mouth.
Today was the day. Today was the day that he would talk to her, finally. The little sun-drenched pixie, reading in the windowsill.
He walked over with a fresh Earl Gray, having asked the barista what she usually sipped while she read. He tried not to be nervous, but the butterflies gnawed at his insides.
“Hey,” he said, setting the drink down next to her.
She looked up, startled. A beam of sunlight tracked across her face and reflected the green in her eyes. “Oh,” she said. “Hey. What’s this?” She motioned to the steaming cup.
“A fresh cup of tea for you.” He smiled, trying to swallow his itching anxiety.
“Oh, that’s sweet. Thank you.” She pressed her lips together, and her eyes roamed all over his body, from the wide set of his shoulders to the cut of his jaw, to the glint of the ring in his earlobe, a testament to a more raucous youth.
He watched her watch him, and he saw the color fill her cheeks. Her lips parted a hair’s width, and he wanted to press himself between them. He ached to feel those pouty, swollen lips around his cock.
No, don’t rush it. There’d be time for that, later.
Her blush deepened, as if she were reading his thoughts — or maybe she was having some deviant little fantasies of her own.
Either way, he felt his nervousness ebb.
“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice already sounding deeper. “I’m Miquel.”
She smiled. “Nice to meet you, Miquel. I’m Sunny.”
How appropriate.
“Mind if I sit?”
“Are you nice?” she asked. Her grin widened, turning those emerald eyes into happy crescents. She set her book on the table.
From the cover, it was obviously romance. From the image of a collar and handcuffs, it didn’t look to be a white picket fence romance, though.
Perfect.
He mirrored her smile. “Do you want me to be?”
“Well you did bring me tea, I suppose. So you can’t be a complete monster.”
He slid in next to her. “No, not completely.” Sitting this close to her, he could hear her breath catch and see her cheeks turn crimson. “What are you reading?”
She bit her lip. “BDSM romance.”
“Naughty,” he said, leaning closer to her ear.
A tiny mewl escaped her lips.
His earlier nervousness evaporated. The little pixie had a dark side, and now all he could think of was spreading her out, holding her wrists, and making her squirm and cry underneath him. His own breath became shallow with need. Miquel had to consciously remind himself that they were in public, sitting in a coffeeshop. He took a deep breath, wanting to push her, here, in public, to see how far she’d go. “Do you know what a safeword is, Sunny?”
She snorted. “Of course.”
“Do you have one?”
She turned her head, so that their lips were almost touching. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
He grinned at her. “Cheeky little thing, aren’t you?”
“I try.” She leaned her bare shoulder into him.
“Would I know it, if you said it?” he asked.
“Unless you have a stoplight fetish — yes.”
He laughed. “Very well, and no, I don’t. I want to touch your back. Will you let me do that?”
“Just my back?”
He watched goosebumps crawl over her arms. “Well, for now. I want to touch your back, and I want you to tell me about your book.”
She paused and closed her eyes, and he could feel her warm breath against his cheek. “Okay.”
“Just okay?” He raised his eyebrows.
She opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Yes, please.”
“Hmm,” he mused, tracing his fingertips over the bare skin of her shoulders, relishing the soft noises that she made in response. “That’s not quire right either, is it?”
“No, it’s not.” Her smile widened.
Later. Later, he would make her say it right.
“Now tell me about your book.” His fingers flowed over the small swells of her muscles, down further toward the tie on her dress.
Her breathing was rapid and shallow. “It’s… um. It’s about… a couple exploring BDSM, but, umm…”
“But what?” He dragged his hand down the valley of her spine, his mind swimming in the luscious ache that she produced in him.
“He’s so possessive.” She turned those needy eyes to him. “I mean, a certain amount of possessiveness — yes. But I wish there was more…” Sunny paused and dropped her gaze to her lap, her shoulders rising and falling rhythically.
He slid his fingers underneath the fabric of the tie on her dress, watching her jaw work as she blushed.
“…More, um. …Public.”
“More public?”
She squirmed and mewled. “Yesss… I mean, I wish there were more… showing her off.”
Sweet Jesus.
“Do you want to be shown off, Sunny?”
Her eyes looked glassy and far away. She nodded. “But I don’t want to be shared. … Does that make sense?”
It absolutely made sense. A pretty little submissive trophy, his to show off, and then to his to enjoy privately. Yes, it absolutely made sense.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have me more.” He toyed with the tie.
“Do you like making me blush?” she whispered.
He leaned in, his lips tickling the delicate skin where her jaw met her ear. “Fuck yes.”
She laughed, and there was a need to it, that hadn’t been there a moment ago.
“Do you like blushing for me?” he asked.
“Fuck yes.” Her voice was shaky.
“Good. Now tell me how you want to be shown off, but not shared.” He knew he was taking a risk, making her the subject of the story now. But from the way she squirmed, and the way her pretty pink lips had swollen, he thought it was a risk worth taking.
She shivered. “I want you to untie my dress, because you can. I want to obey, even — especially — if it makes me blush. Let me feel you control my dignity.”
Fucking Christ.
“But I don’t want to be a public whore, a hole for everyone to use,” she continued. “I want to be a submissive fuck toy, just for my dom.”
He couldn’t breath, hearing those words spill out of her mouth. He swallowed reflexively, trying to adjust to bulge in his pants.
Fuck.
“Beg me,” he whispered huskily. “Beg me to untie your dress, toy.”
She whimpered, and it was the sexiest thing he had ever heard. “Please… please do it. Humiliate me. Make me feel like a slut.”
“You are a slut. What other kind of woman would let me do this?”
Sunny moaned, loud enough to capture the attention of the tables around them. He smiled, watching the curious eyes of their fellow patrons.
“You have admirers,” he told her, pulling the strings to her dress.
…Not enough to untie the bow, just enough to let her know what he planned to do next.
She looked up at him, her eyes wide. Her lips parted as her blush crawled all the way down her chest.
He watched her nipples harden under the thin fabric of her dress. “Now ask again. Ask me, the way you know you’re supposed to.”
“Please…” she whispered, looking him straight in the eye. “Please untie my dress, Sir.”
The ache in his balls was nearly unbearable. He cursed himself for not talking to this girl weeks ago.
“And then what should I do with you?” he asked her.
She grinned. “Take me home and fuck me.”
“Slut.”
“Mmm hmm,” she murmured, smiling still.
Yes, not talking to her had been the worst deciscion of his life. But it was a mistake that he was prepared to rectify, right now.
He pulled the tie that was holding her dress on her body, and the delicate fabric fluttered to the table, revealing a pair of perfect tits, the skin golden with tiny freckles and pink nipples that begged to be sucked.
She squealed and brought her hands up to cover her breasts, leaning against him for some semblance of privacy from the inquistive looks of those around them. Unfortunately, as she tried to hide from the customers in the coffeeshop, she was completely open to the large window next to them. If he had thought she was blushing hard before, it was nothing compared to the crimson flush that covered her face now. Sunny squirmed desperately next to him, trying to pick up the front of her dress without taking her hands off of her breasts.
“Stop,” he said, reveling in her discomfort.
She stopped.
He watched her eyes get glassy as tears pooled. Her lip quivered as her shoulders rose with her too-quick breaths.
“You are so beautiful. But especially when you are so delightfully obedient,” he said. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could play this game without some release.
She whimpered, still with her hands clasped over her bare breasts.
“Is your cunt wet right now?”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her eyes on her lap.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes, please, Sir,” she begged, her shoulders shaking.
“Such a cute little exhibitionist. Fold your hands in your lap, and I’ll tie your dress up again. Then we can go, if you want.”
She started to cry softly. Slowly, she lowered her hands, leaving her chest bare to the eyes of the world. Even though the bulk of his body protected her from most of the people in the coffeeshop, the people walking on the sidewalk outside slowed their gait.
He watched her lick her pouty lips as a single tear fell down her cheek.
He need to get her home, right fucking now.
As slowly as he dared, he gathered the fabric of her dress and tied it back together. He could feel her body shaking, even when she was all covered again, and she leaned against him.
“Please take me home, Sir,” she said, sounding needy and desperate. “Please, I need to be fucked.”
Thank fucking god.
He struggled to maintain control of himself and his voice. “Very well.” He got up and helped her to her feet. “Hold my hand, please. I want everyone to know who’s going to be sucking on those beautiful tits in a moment.”
She laughed with her tears still shiny on her face. She picked up her book, took his hand, and practically dragged him out of the building.