Handcuffs Do Have Their Uses

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Written as my belated Christmas/New Year’s gift to the Forever Knight fandom. Handcuffs are a woefully underused kink there and, as I’m a Nick/Nat ‘shipper, I couldn’t resist.

Warning: Contains explicit depictions of sexual behaviour between a heterosexual couple. If that’s not your cup of Earl Grey, read no further. As you can expect from the title, mild bondage is included.

Disclaimer/Legal Notice: Nicholas Knight and Natalie Lambert are the product of someone else’s imagination, not mine. I’m just borrowing them for a bit.

Natalie’s bare wrists strained against the handcuffs. Her hair, freed of the tight bun, curtained delicately around her face and shoulders, the auburn highlights shining in the dim light. Her bosom, freed of the black lacy brassiere she’d worn beneath a smart pantsuit, heaved as wantonly as the women she used to read of in dime-store romance novels.

That was, she had read them until circumstances had finally shifted so she could have her ultimate fantasy as reality.

She tilted her head back, her tongue pressing slightly against her lips to wet them. Her gaze was upon the object of her fantasies, as he stared at her. His eyes, normally so blue she wanted to drown in them, now had a golden fire within. He was hungry. Not for blood, no, but the pleasures of the flesh he’d long denied himself in the hopes of a cure.

How fortuitous that the cessation of that self-denial had further kindled the hidden embers of passion between them which now leapt into flame. In losing his quest for mortality, they had gained so much more. They had gained each other.

He was on his knees before her, even as her restraints forced her to remain seated in the hard wooden chair to which she was confined. He pressed his hand against her face — so cool and yet so warm — and leaned in to kiss her.

Their lips only barely touched, but she groaned softly into his mouth. Six years of suppressed longing could not wait any further than this. He kissed her repeatedly on the mouth, the intimate gesture becoming firmer and more forceful. His tongue began to explore the warm area behind her soft lips as his free hand now traveled slowly up her bare leg.

The attention of his lips journeyed along the delicate skin of her jaw and throat. She knew he could feel the hot blood racing through her veins so close to where his mouth alighted, and that he could hear the rapid pulse of her heart. It only made her want him more.

The hand moving along her inner thigh, however, had not strayed from its course. Cold fingers moved the crotch of her panties aside and plunged into her tight wet core. She gasped as his fingers stroked the taut muscles and tender flesh, the flow increasing with his command over her body. But it wasn’t his fingers — as strong and skilled as they were — she wanted inside her.

“Nick, please,” she whimpered. “Fuck me.”

It was a request he could hardly refuse. He lifted her off the chair, her hands still cuffed behind her back, and laid her on the soft carpet before the fireplace. Yet, he did not accede to her demand so readily. Instead he parted her lithe, beautiful legs and, after tearing away the panties, plundered the bounty between her thighs just as he had paid homage her mouth.

Despite the intensity of her desire, increased to the point where she could hardly recall her own name, she continued to plead with him. Her begging became more explicit and insistent, until he silenced her with another kiss.

Then he was on top of her. No, he was rolling onto his back, taking her along with him until she was straddling him. She could feel the hardness of his cock so wonderfully close to the lips of her vagina. In another moment, that cold shaft would finally be inside her, filling her completely. Where it belonged. The inability to touch him, to bring him any closer to her or force him to the pace she desired was such sweet torment.

He reached down between them, grasping his cock in his hand, and moved the tip along her slick folds. Tantalizing her, teasing her.

“Nick, please!” she cried once again, twisting in vain against the handcuffs that so firmly held her wrists. He gave a soft chuckle in response, roughened by the wont he also felt. Then he finally rewarded her, guiding his length inside her…

There was a tap on her shoulder and she gave a cry of alarm, startled into wakefulness. Nick was watching her, his deep blue eyes glinting with… an emotion she couldn’t quite place.

“What did I miss?” she mumbled.

“Just about the whole movie,” Nick replied, his baritone soft and soothing as always. “I know it’s been awhile since we’ve done the whole movie-night bit, but you ended up sacking right out. These crazy hours you’re working got you ragged.”

“Thanks for the tip, Dad,” she replied sarcastically. She wasn’t meeting his gaze, the memory of her dream too fresh in her mind and partly fearful he would see the longing for him she’d desperately tried to hide. The desire for a relationship that he could never consummate. “I guess I’ll go on home and get a little more sleep in, while I have the chance.”

He led her to the door, giving her a gentle but chaste kiss on the cheek. So close to connecting with hers, that she felt an internal shockwave in response, her mind’s eye still aflame with the passion idyll she had dreamed. She immediately tamped down her natural reaction.

“I’ll see you later, Nat,” he told her.

She grumbled an affirmative comment, the want of more sleep pulling at her even as she stepped into the elevator.

“Oh, and Nat?”


“Stay away from handcuffs for awhile.”


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Mostly, I write stuff. And, like the Egyptians and the Internet, I put cat pictures on my walls. Also, I can read your Tarot.