“Say it again,” Zack commanded in a low, gravelly voice that brooked no argument. His grip on her jaw tightened, forcing her to hold his gaze even as her cheeks flushed crimson with humiliation.
“I’m your needy toy,” she repeated, her voice steadier this time, though still laced with a raw desperation that made her sound utterly wrecked. Her throat worked as she swallowed hard before adding, “I’m your dirty little club bunny.” Her words echoed in the room, a stark admission of her submission that sent another jolt of arousal coursing through her veins. It was as if the more she said it, the more it sank into her very soul, twisting her shame into something darker, something she couldn’t name but craved nonetheless.
“Such a good fucking girl,” Zack praised, the whiplash from degradation to affection making her dizzy with need.
“Come here, babygirl. Let Daddy take care of you.”
Aiden
His words shattered the last of her control. She scrambled up over the desk, her body pulsing with desperate energy, and launched herself at Aiden, capturing his mouth in a hungry, frantic kiss. She poured every ounce of her conflicting emotions into it—the shame, the pride, the overwhelming, nasty, fucking need.
They separated, breathless. Aiden sank back into his chair, his eyes fixed on hers. He looked completely in control. “Now,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “Take my cock out.”
Sophie fell to her knees, hitting the plush carpet with a soft thud. Her hands, trembling slightly, went to his belt buckle, her fingers fumbling in their haste.
She was his good girl. She was their filthy toy.
Aiden’s hands reached for her and pulled her into his lap. His hold not to guide her, but to claim her. His palms were warm and slightly rough as they slid up her torso, his thumbs tracing the delicate lines of her ribs before his fingers splayed wide over the tender skin of her waist. He followed the map of welts Zack created, his touch a brand that reignited each and every one.
“Daddy, please.”
“Please what, my greedy girl?” he whispered against her throat, his hips lifting slightly to meet her downward grind. The friction was exquisite.
“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a low gravel that vibrated through her core. “So perfect. All mine.”
She rolled her hips in answer, a slow, grinding circle that drew a low groan from him. His head fell back against the chair, but his eyes never left her. One hand slid down to grip the fleshy curve of her thigh, his fingers pressing into the marks there, setting her nerve endings on fire. The other hand came up to cup her breast, his thumb brushing lightly, so lightly, over the clamped nipple.
“Come on, Sophie. Ride Daddy’s cock, I’ll let you come.”
She couldn’t form the words. She just rocked against him, angling her hips to sink onto his length.
“Oh, god.” She panted, moving her hips faster now, chasing the building pressure. His mouth traveled lower, down her collarbone, his tongue darting out to taste her salty skin. He was driving her insane with this slow, meticulous worship.
Then he reached her breast. He didn’t take the clamp off. He didn’t need to. His tongue, hot and wet, licked a broad stripe over the tortured peak and the cold metal of the clamp.
The sensation was electric, a blinding flash of pain-pleasure that made her cry out, her back arching violently. Her inner muscles clenched hard, a hard grip around the length of him.
He acknowledged her cry with a dark, possessive sound. This was what she needed, what she’d been begging for without words.
Aiden’s hand on her thigh tightened, holding her steady as his mouth closed over her nipple. He didn’t just suckle. He was rough. His lips sealed around the clamp, and he sucked hard, pulling the sensitive flesh and the unforgiving metal deep into the heat of his mouth. His teeth dug in, not on the nipple itself, but around the base of the clamp, pressing the sensation to its absolute limit.
Pain and pleasure fused into one unbearable, incredible point. Sophie’s vision whited out. She was aware of nothing but the searing heat of his mouth on her breast, the firm grip of his hand branding her thigh, and the frantic, rolling rhythm of her hips as she rode him, chasing the white hot bliss she knew was waiting.
“That’s it,” he growled, his voice muffled against her skin. “Take it. Take what you need.”
She was so close. So unbearably close. Every nerve was alight, singing a symphony of exquisite torment. She could feel the damp spot on his jeans, feel the way his abdominal muscles clenched beneath her, feel the approving gaze of Zack from the corner of the room—it all fed the fire.
Aiden released her breast with a wet, popping sound and looked up at her, his eyes blazing with feral intensity. “Now, Sophie. Come for me. Come for Daddy.”
It was both a command and a permission. His hand slid from her thigh around to her ass, gripping her firmly, helping her find a deeper, faster rhythm. His other hand found her other clamped nipple and pinched it hard through the metal.
A hard slap from Zack bucked Sophie’s hips hard against Aiden. Need and want became a singular point of focus.
Her body shook, her fingers gripped onto Aiden’s shoulders as she came. Her back arched, tightening around her Daddy’s cock and Sir’s plug.
“Now you ride,” Aiden ground out, his own control fraying. “Ride me, Sophie.”
Zack’s hand came down again, on the other side this time. Crack. The sharp pain bloomed, a perfect counterpoint to the deep, driving pleasure of Aiden inside her. Her body, caught between the two opposing forces, began to move on its own accord, a frantic, rolling rhythm driven by primal need.
