.
.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Kazuma says.
Veena is lying naked on the bed, watching as he nervously twists the rope around his hands. "I told you, you could," Veena says. "Besides. That drawing Yato drew of me all tied up is your favorite one, isn't it?"
Kazuma sighs. "There is such a thing as fantasy, you know."
"Well you know what they say, making fantasy a reality, and all that nonsense." She stretches out on the bed, luxuriously. "Go on, Kazuma. Tie me up like you want to and use my body as you see fit. I think we'll both like this." Kazuma nods dully and steps forward.
She is right when she says they'd both like it. Veena was always wary about the possibility of using him, and Kazuma didn't like to take too many liberties when it came to the physical aspects of their relationship. That Veena ordered him to tie her up freed them both from their respective hang-ups: she could lie back and let Kazuma take the lead without worrying that she was forcing him, and he could do so without the normal accompanying guilt and shame.
The rope Kazuma chose was made of black silk, which could slide smoothly across bare skin without chafing or burning. Carefully, he ties her wrists above her head, and when she nods he gently pulls down her blindfold.
He takes off his glasses, quietly setting them on the nightstand before leaning over her.
Her lips part a little when he carefully kisses her, covering her with his body and keeping his weight on his elbows. He is still fully dressed despite her nakedness, and while this happens to be a rather common occurrence, usually he is standing at the grotto reciting reports as if by rote.
Her lips part a little, and he feels her gently slip her tongue.
Kazuma moves, rubbing his mouth along her skin and following the line of her body, when he stops just above her sternum. Her nipples are small and pink and hard, and he has no compunction dragging his mouth over one swollen breast and licking her carefully around the tip of her nipple.
Above him, Veena sighs, quietly. Her hips move against his, straining to grind the core of her sex against him.
Kazuma enjoys her breasts. They are heavy and soft, and as he cups them he rolls her nipples beneath his thumbs.
"Kazuma." Veena's voice is strained, needy. She pushes up her pelvis, grinding against him.
"My apologies," Kazuma says, and he dutifully scoots lower.
The lips of her sex are swollen and wet when he closes his mouth over her, lets his tongue gently press against her clit. He's rewarded by a soft moan, the muscles in her thighs tightening. Gently, he rests his hands around her waist and kisses her lips like they were a mouth.
A few minutes pass. The muscles of Veena's body tighten and clench, her legs straightening, toes pointing and quivering with effort. She lets out a ragged breath. He swirls his tongue along her clit, then flattens it, sucking a little, gently. Veena's voice see-saws a little with each ragged pant, and it takes only a moment before she cries out, and comes undone.
She jerks against his mouth, the top part of her body jerking with each harsh contraction of her orgasm, before she falls back on the bed. Her arms, which are still tied above her head, swing uselessly by the bedpost. The blindfold slips a little over her eyes.
Kazuma pulls off his shirt. He makes quick work of the belt and the zipper of his pants, pulling them down and moving on top of her.
Her knees part. He pushes into the wet seam of her body, gasping a little at the sensation. His breath fans hot and ragged against her neck. He moves. His skin is warm and damp, and she whines and writhes, pulling against the rope and straining beneath him.
He pulls off the blindfold, because he wants to see her face. He thrusts as he kisses her, and when he pulls back she cranes her neck upwards, nudging her chin against the flushed skin of his cheek.