"We have a meeting this morning, and I still don't know if I'm allowed to show the people the concerto," I say calmly.
"I know. I?—"
"I'm not done talking. Take the shirt off and put your wrists behind your back."
She blinks up at me, her thighs rubbing together.
"Are we at a point where you onlypretendto be scared of me,mon trésor?"
Shaking her head, she puts her hands behind her back.
"I'm not pretending. Tell me you'll untie me if I ask you."
I don't. Instead, I take my time weaving the rope between her wrists. The binding is tight, and she hisses when she pulls at it.
"Do you often bring rope in your suitcase when you travel?" she asks through gritted teeth.
"Do you often attempt to make your situation worse with your attitude?"
She pinches her lips together, and I notice the way in which her gaze darts to the violin case resting on the table not far from us.
"Curious?" I ask as I help her lean down on the mattress.
"Is that your violin?"
The hope in her voice is giving me life. I'm feeding on it like the asshole I am, and I don’t want it to ever go away.
"It is," I answer simply as I lift the blindfold. "Are you excited to hear me play?"
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Nyx
Siren sounds – Tate McRae
The soft gasp that leaves my lips isn't because my vision disappears. I've learned that Achilles might be a monster, but he's a monster I tamed, and who would never truly hurt me. He cares too much about me. Which is a thought in and of itself that seems delusional, but it's true.
If Achilles is immortal, I'm the arrow heading straight for his heel.
His games excite me now. They turn me on more than ever. Every ache from my past has been replaced by scorching kisses. Every terror redefined by an obsessive caress. Achilles Duval lowered his defenses when he tried to own me. And now, I own him.
So the gasp isn't from fear. It's from pure anticipation.
I've spent hours on end listening to his music, watching videos of his old concerto online, but never have I heard him play live.
He kisses my neck, and I tilt my head to the side to give him more access. His lips trace a burning path to my collarbone, and he bites me there, making me hiss as I buck my hips.
Delicately, he pushes me until I'm lying on my back, pressing onto my tied wrists. Then his mouth returns, leaving kisses along my flushed skin until he takes one of my nipples into his mouth. He grazes it with his teeth before nibbling and teasing. One, then the other, and again, until I'm writhing and whining under him. Without my sight, all I can focus on are his touches. A pleasuring poison is thickening my blood, making me lightheaded, and when his fingers graze my entrance, I can hear how wet he's making me.
With two fingers, he starts fucking me slowly, and for a second, I start to believe that this is it. It's not one of his torturous sessions or a way to get something out of me. It's pure pleasure, and I’m becoming more malleable for him as every second brings me closer to new heights.
Then he stops, leaving me panting and needy.
Something rubbery presses against my entrance, and I recoil slightly, but he puts his hand on my hip.
"It's just a toy," he murmurs softly as he starts to fuck me with it. "You'll be a good girl and take a toy for me, won't you, baby?"
My brain barely processes the sentence as I lean into how good it feels and nod mindlessly. It's only when the toy is inside me that I realize two things. It stops around where my G-spot is, and there's also a second half that covers my clit delicately.
