Trust me.

I bite my lip, and his expression changes instantly. He looks sternly at me. 

There's a very fine line between pleasure and pain.They are two sides of the same coin, one not existing without the other.

Your body gives you away. You're pressing your thighs together, you're flushed, and your breathing has changed.

He leans down to kiss me, but pauses before his lips touch mine, his eyes searching mine, wanting, asking permission . I raise my lips to his, and he kisses me and because I don't know if I'll ever kiss him again, I let go - my hands moving of their own accord and twisting into his hair, pulling him to me, my mouth opening, my tongue stroking his. His hand grasps the nape of my neck as he deepens the kiss, responding to my ardor. His other hand slides down my back and flattens at the base of my spine as he pushes me against his body.

As I peer up at him, I commit his beautiful profile to memory. The idea that I might not see him again haunts me, unwelcome and too painful to contemplate. He turns suddenly, staring down at me, his expression intense.

Soon tears are streaming down my face, and I really don't understand why I'm crying. I was holding my own. He explained everything. He was clear. He wants me, but the truth is,I need more. I need him to want me like I want  and need him, and deep down I know that's not possible. I am just overwhelmed.But the thought of not seeing him again is agonizing. How has he gotten under my skin so quickly?

I don't understand why you ran this evening. I sincerely hope I answered all your questions to your satisfaction. I know I have given you a great deal to contemplate, and I fervently hope that you will give my proposal your serious consideration. I really want to make this work. We will take it slow.

I'm panting once more as he tugs the crop out of my mouth, trails it down and under my chin, on down my neck to the hollow at the base of my throat. He swirls it slowly there and then continues to drag the tip down my body, along my sternum, between my breasts, over my torso down to my navel. I'm panting, squirming, pulling against my restraints that are biting into my wrists and my ankles. He swirls the tip around my navel then continues to trail the leather tip south, through my pubic hair to my clitoris. He flicks the crop and it hits my sweet spot with a sharp slap, and I come, gloriously, shouting my release.