I pause. She points at the chair in the corner, her lips tilting into a grin that’s definitely giving me thoughts. Many, many thoughts.
“You can sit there,” she almost purrs. Her hands drop to the hem of her shirt. “Andwatch.Consider it your punishment for trying to edge me. Amongst other things.”
I shake my head as I head to the chair and plant myself in it. “I was not edging you. You’d absolutely know it if I was.”
Her eyes gleam in what I think might be interest, but my attention is drawn down as she grasps the hem of her shirt and pulls it off in one smooth motion.
My mouth dries as she stands before me, dressed in nothing but the thin black cotton panties I dipped my fingers into earlier.
My hands clench on the arms of the chair as she yanks her hair out of its messy bun. The brown tendrils scatter around her body, framing her still too-thin rib cage and the perfect, dusky-pink nipples that stand out in the cool air.
She spreads her arms out mockingly. “Well? Am I enough for you, Tristan Cohen?”
My chest hurts at the slightly mocking tone to her words. “You have always been more than enough. You’re perfect.”
Sienna sniffs, but her cheeks darken as she turns. She glances over her shoulder at me as her fingers hook into her underwear. I can’t breathe as she drags them down her legs, bending over to give me the barest glimpse of dewy, pink softness.
“Bonded.” My voice is dark. “If this is a punishment, sign me up for another round.”
But it’s punishment nonetheless. She’s made it clear that I can’t touch, only watch. And it’s heaven and hell combined as my eyes track her, watch her extend a perfect, pale leg and climb into the bathtub. Sienna settles back until the bubbles cover her from my gaze, her toes poking out at the end closest to me.
She grins, and it’s endearing as hell. “Feeling suitably chastened, Bonded?”
God, but it does things to me when she uses that word. The air thickens, and Sienna licks her lips as our scents grow stronger in the enclosed space.
I can’t take my eyes from her as she takes a sponge, sniffing my body gel before squirting it until it lathers up. She cleans herself thoroughly, leisurely, with slow strokes that drive me closer to the edge.
“How’s the view?” she asks conversationally.
“Stunning,” I say honestly. “I’d endure the seventh circle of hell to come over there right now.”
She quirks her eyebrow. “Stay where you are, and take your punishment like a good boy.”
Her hands slide down, and I hold my breath as she cups her breasts, massaging them, pushing them up so I can see clearly through the bubbles I put into the tub.
Safe to say I’m greatly regretting that decision right now.
Even more so when her hands slip down, and her legs hook over the edges of the porcelain tub until she’s spread open in the water, her eyes lazy and taunting on mine as she touches herself.
I sit forward, and I’m pretty sure I hear a crack in the wood my hands are gripping. “Move the bubbles.”
She purses her lips. “No.”
Her voice is breathy, and her eyes close as she tips her head back, her mouth falling open.
My cock is bursting inside my jeans, my knot swollen as hell.
Thisis punishment. I feel like I’m dying as I watch my Soul Bonded take her pleasure in front of me, unable to touch, totaste.
When she moans, I can’t take it anymore. I’m on my feet in a second, and her eyes flutter open. “Sit down.”
I take a step. “I want a taste.”
She shakes her head, her hands still moving under the water. “This isn’t for you.”
Lie. I can taste it in the way she watches me, punishes me with the distance between us.
Two can play that game.
