I got to work on my flowers, focusing on following the guidelines Oakley had given me. I fluffed out my greenery and carefully placed the different colored flowers to fill in the openings. After a few minutes, I had a gorgeous vase of flowers. I was super impressed with myself. I looked up to tell Oakley that he should be impressed with me too only to see that he was already staring at me.

He came over and pretended to grade my work.

“This is an excellent first attempt, Miss Matthews,” he said smartly and moved to position himself behind me. “However, I think you will find with just a few small adjustments, it could be perfect.”

Oakley slid his arms under mine and pressed his chest tightly into my back. I let out a small laugh because it felt like he was about to teach me how to play mini golf. He picked up a few more stems and placed them into the vase, grazing my breasts as he did. His pelvis nudged into my ass every time he leaned forward, and I could feel his excitement. I started grinding into him when he moved, and I heard his breath hitch.

He spun me around to face him and effortlessly picked me up and sat me on the table top. I parted my legs, making Oakley’s eyes dart to where my dress was riding up. “You’re so fucking tempting,” he growled, grabbing a nearby pink flower. Gripping the stem, he started dragging it up my thigh. The touch made goosebumps break out over my skin. “So sensitive. You respond to the lightest touch,” he added before dragging it higher and higher, removing the flower once it was close to my slick heat.

I licked my lips as he dragged the flower across my arms, my chest, my cheeks. It was so teasing and slow. Oakley Davis was taking his time with me, and every pass of the potent petals had me dripping with need. “Kiss me,” I demanded. I wanted to feel his lips on mine.

“So impatient. I thought we were going to make an arrangement, hmm?” he teased as he put the flower down.

“Oakley,” I pleaded, my voice a whimper. He was enjoying the neediness in my tone. I watched as he grabbed some velvet ribbon nearby. Taking it in his hands, he pressed my wrists together, tying them with an expert bow. The soft material rubbed against my skin.

“I’ve fantasized about doing this for ages,” he rasped before lifting my arms up and wrapping them around his neck. I scooted forward on the table, aligning our sexes as he tempted me with a kiss.

“I’m all tied up. All yours,” I whispered. It was like speaking loudly would ruin the tension-filled moment.