My breaths come in short, ragged gasps, arousal coiling tight. “You,” I manage, voice breathy and thick with need. “I want you.”
He chuckles, dark and controlled, stepping behind me again. “You think you’ve earned me?” His tone sharpens. “You haven’t. Not yet.” A long pause, heavy with intent. “For your disobedience, I ought to leave you like this—wet, yearning, aching with no release.”’
I whimper, hips twitching, the threat sinking deep.
“But” he continues, voice softening, “I’m not a complete monster.”
His hands return, one palm gliding along my inner thigh, teasing the sensitive skin there before reaching my pussy. His fingers part my slick folds, slow and purposeful, tracing the edges with a featherlight touch that makes me shudder. He circles my entrance, not entering, just teasing, drawing out my arousal until I’m dripping.
My instinct is to turn, to watch him.
“Face forward,” he orders, as if reading my mind. I happily obey, heart pounding.
He strokes my clit lightly, a slow, torturous rhythm that sets my nerves alight. My pussy clenches, slick and aching under his touch, every stroke pushing me closer to the edge.
“Oh… oh myGod.” The words explode out of me.
“Lie down and roll over,” Damien commands next.
His hands guide me onto my back, the mattress cool against my skin. He tightens the ribbon looped around my wrists, binding them securely above my head to the headboard. The silk tightens just enough to hold me in place, my body stretched out, completely vulnerable.
He steps back, his sharp gaze raking over my naked form. My skin prickles under his scrutiny, and I revel in the hunger in his eyes, the way he drinks me in, possessive and controlled.
He comes close again, one hand settling on my pussy, fingers gliding along my slick folds, teasing my entrance with deliberate restraint. His other hand cups my breast, thumb circling my nipple until it hardens, sending sparks through my core. My clit throbs as he strokes it, setting a rhythm I can’t escape.
“Oh God,” I moan, voice trembling.
“So responsive,” he murmurs, “but you only come when I say.”
His touch builds, one finger slipping inside me, curling just right, while his thumb grazes my clit. Heat coils tight, my hips shifting.
“Oh God, please,” I gasp, clit pulsating. He brings me to the edge, walls clenching, then pauses, letting the ache grow unbearable.
“Not yet,” he says sharply. “You come on my command.” My breath turns ragged, a desperate whine escaping.
“Fuck,” I whimper, trembling under his control.
He presses harder, two fingers thrusting deep in my pussy, thumb relentless on my clit. The rhythm is ruinous, edging me closer, then pulling back.
“Please.”
“Beg properly,” he says.
My legs shake, his hand on my belly holding me steady. “Please, sir, may I come?” I plead, voice breaking, pussy aching.
“Good,” he growls. “Now come for me.”
Release crashes through me, my walls spasming around his fingers as I cry out, “Oh fuck!”
My head tilts back, my back arching as my arms test the restraints. My heart pounds as my clit pulses, his steady breath at my ear like a lifeline.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, guiding me down. “You did so well.”
He lifts his fingers, slick with my arousal, and holds them up, studying the glistening tips in the dim light. His eyes lock onmine, dark and intense, as he brings them to his lips. Slowly, he licks my juices, savoring the taste with a low hum that sends heat flooding through me.
“You taste like… you’remine.”
I squirm a bit, already feeling needy for another release. God, what is this man doing to me?
