MasukSadie I must’ve blacked out for a second. Or maybe I just melted straight into the mattress. My whole body feels loose, like every bone gave up. I’m still buzzing from everything he just did to me—sweaty, sticky, and sore. That wrecked-but-still-glowing feeling that makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time. Yeah. That.Graham brushes his knuckles gently along my cheek, his touch featherlight. “Hey,” he murmurs, voice rough with affection. “Still with me?”“Barely,” I whisper, smiling.That crooked grin he flashes me should be illegal. “Good,” he says, leaning in to kiss my temple. “Means I did it right.”He starts untying me, slow and steady, like he’s got all the time in the world and no plans to rush this part. Nothing feels mechanical about it—it’s soft, almost careful. Every knot he undoes feels like he’s unwrapping something he actually cares about.His fingers brush my skin with every pass, checking in with those tiny pauses, rubbing out the tension in all the places th
Sadie I cry out, loud and raw, because holy fuck, he’s huge. He stretches me deep, slow, all-consuming. It’s too much and exactly what I needed. Every inch of him hits somewhere I didn’t even know could ache like this. It’s pain and pleasure tangled up together, sharp and sweet, and I never want it to stop.“Fuck, you’re tight,” he hisses. “Gripping me like you were made for this cock.”He gives me a second to adjust. Then starts to move.He starts off slow, just easing me into it, making sure I feel every inch. Then he picks up the pace. Harder. Rougher. His rhythm turns punishing, hips snapping against mine like he’s got something to prove. And honestly? I want him to. I want him to fuck every thought out of my head and then keep going. By the time he’s really going at it, it’s brutal.The ropes at my hips bite in, and he uses them like handles, dragging me into every thrust. “Take it,” he grunts. “Take every fucking inch.”I moan, breathless, delirious. “Don’t stop.”“You feel how
Sadie The second the last rope strike fades from my skin, Graham is already moving like a man with a mission.He slides one arm beneath my bound thighs and the other around my chest, and lifts me like I weigh nothing. The ropes dig in, pulling snug, grounding me. I gasp, more from the sheer power of it than surprise. I feel like a prize being claimed. One heartbeat I’m still kneeling on the bench, and the next, I’m tossed onto the bed like a doll, bouncing gently against the mattress, breath leaving me in a stunned exhale.He steps back. Stares.And then he strips.He doesn’t rush. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he wants me to see it all. His shirt comes off slow, like he’s letting me savor every inch—those broad shoulders, those abs I’ve fantasized about way too many times, that ridiculous V-cut that points straight down like an arrow.My mouth literally waters. Then he moves to his jeans, unbuttoning them with that cocky little flick of his fingers, and shoves them down ove
SadieMore rope appears in his hands. He starts crafting the diamond shorts, winding rope around my waist, the tops of my thighs, over the roundness of my ass, forming an intricate lattice that frames and lifts.He pauses now and then to run his fingers along the lines, tugging slightly, adjusting.It’s tight across my cheeks, but open where it matters. My cunt is bare, aching, throbbing with every heartbeat.Then come the thighs.He kneels in front of me, his face level with my chest, and shifts in even closer—so close I can feel his breath against my skin. His hands slide down my thighs, slow and warm, and then he gently nudges my knees farther apart.He doesn’t say anything, just starts working the rope around one leg, bending it tighter so calf presses into my thigh. Legs, snug and secure. Then the same with the other.It’s not a showy tie—it’s not about putting me on display. It’s about grounding me. Making it clear I’m not going anywhere. I’m already kneeling, but now I couldn
Sadie The dance floor is wild—bodies everywhere, the bass thumping through the floor like a second heartbeat. It’s loud and sweaty and just the right kind of chaotic. Graham finds my hand and laces his fingers through mine, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. His grip is firm, reassuring, but not possessive—just enough to let me know I’m safe. That he’s got me.Everything’s alive out here. The pulse of the music. The heat of skin brushing skin. The way laughter mingles with gasps and moans in the air. I tighten my grip on his hand as he leads me through the masses.A couple dances close enough to grind, their eyes locked in a rhythm that’s more than just the music. Another pair kisses near the edge of the floor, slow and filthy and unapologetic. Everything about this place vibrates with tension and release, and I feel it sink into my skin.Graham leads me past the lounge and into the hallway. The air shifts here cooler, quieter, more purposeful. The walls are darker, bathed
Sadie I skip the next two workshops.Every Thursday, I stare at my inbox, watch the club’s weekly newsletter land with a soft ping, and pretend it’s just another email. I don’t open them. I don’t even let myself hover over the subject line too long. I delete them. Fast. Like if I do it quick enough, my body won’t remember the feel of rope cinching across my chest. Or the warmth of his palm on my thigh. Or the exact second my moan cracked the room in half.But it does.My body remembers everything.I convince myself he wasn’t attracted to me. That I got carried away and embarrassed myself. That he invited me to the session because he felt sorry for me, or maybe because I was convenient. Not because he wanted me. Definitely not that.I spiral. Hard.I touch myself twice in the first week, and even more times in the second. All to the same memory—his voice, low in my ear, telling me to trust him. His fingers wrapping the rope tight, the way he said power play like it meant something
Sofia Cameron eased me up, careful now, his fingers tracing over the marks he’d left like he was memorizing every bruise, every bite.His arms wrapped around me, pulling me in slow, like he couldn’t quite let go yet. When our eyes met, everything in him had shifted—his gaze was softer, stripped ba
Sofia“You don’t have to keep quiet,” he purred against my ear, his voice a velvet-draped threat that made my cunt clench all over again. “I’d love to hear you fucking lose it for me.”I bit down on my lip, trying to anchor myself, but all I could focus on was the bed in front of us. The woman was
Sofia “C-Cameron—” I gasped, my voice barely more than a breath. Was it a protest? A plea? Even I didn’t know. The heat curling inside me made it impossible to think straight, every nerve in my body strung tight as his hand skimmed down my waist, slow, deliberate. Teasing. Testing.His fingertips
SofiaCameron guided me deeper into the club, his grip firm on my wrist as he maneuvered past the dance floor and lounge. The pounding bass, the chatter of voices, the occasional burst of laughter—all of it faded, drowned beneath the thrumming heat curling through me at his touch.The energy shifte







