Dorian sat back on his knees as she moved to the box again.
Two iron cuffs caught her eyes. She pulled them from inside and walked around Dorian again, making sure he wasn’t touching himself or looking up before she went to the bedposts to lock the links and irons in place. When she finished, she walked back over to him, picked up his chain, and held it as she moved onto the bed.
He still hadn’t looked at her.
“Prince,” she called, lying back into the pillows.
He turned, remaining on his knees, finally looking up at her when she pulled the chain again. His gaze locked on her, and Bala crooked her finger.
The way he watched her as he crawled onto the bed was as though she were his prey. Stalking. Plotting. Holding himself back from attacking. She wondered how much restraint it actually took for him not to do as he pleased. Dorian hovered over her, hands on either side of her body, and she knew he was waiting for her to tell him he could continue.
“Tell me what you want, my King,” he said as his hungry eyes stared through her.
Bala shifted and pulled on his collar until his lips were but a breath from hers, and as she spread her legs wide, she whispered, “Worship me.”
His eyes closed with a groan, and he hung his head a moment. “Yes, my King,” he whispered.
He was on her in a blink. Lips latching to her collar, hand squeezing her thigh and bending her leg up around him. She allowed herself to give in a moment, rolling against his kisses and devotion. He pulled her shirt off, only letting her sit up a moment, and then he tugged at the strings of her front laced with his teeth as she settled back on the pillows. It was quick work. She enjoyed toying in his hair, pulling on the collar with the other hand, moving him, and guiding him to where she wanted her mouth. Every time he started to go lower than her breasts, she stopped him, not ready for him to enjoy that yet. The hand on her thigh moved between her legs, and she sucked in a breath as the pad of his finger brushed her clit.
“Slowly, Prince,” she told him.
He was slower than she ever thought he could be. Sucking on her breast, his finger brushing so delicately over her clit that she found her hips lifting into him. But he did as she asked. He teased her, slowly up and down her throbbing clit, taking his time before dipping inside her. He cursed on her skin upon feeling her drenched, and he lifted up to look at her.
“Let me taste you,” he pleaded.
She brushed her hand through his hair and then settled her fingers on his cheek. “Oh, you will,” she promised. “But first, you’re going to beg me for your own release from your back.”
He held her eyes when he pushed a finger inside her, curling his finger, making sure to leave his thumb to caress her clit. Deeper with each move, adding another finger after a few moments, until she started rocking with him. Pace quickening. And he still watched her. Her mouth sagged as he bent and bit her nipple, fingers fully inside, thumb pressing hard to her clit. Bala started to lose herself. She was there, ready for her release, holding his hair and not realizing she was yanking on his collar until she heard him gasp.
She rolled him to his back before he could finish her off. Her knees pressed into his arms, and Bala reached for the shackles to lock his wrists. She was fast, but not as quickly as his mouth. He leaned up as she secured his left arm, and he latched onto her swollen clit.
Bala cursed, knees limping, barely getting the damn shackle locked as he sucked on her. Forcing herself not to give in, she pulled his hair and the chain, moving off of his face and revealing the ghost of a smile on his lips. Bala jerked him up by the collar.
“Are you asking for punishment, Prince?” she said as her hand tightened on his throat.
“Yes,” he managed.
Bala dropped him, and he yanked on his wrists as she stood off the bed. She moved over to his box again, finding the small, soft flogger inside, and she paused beside the bed again, toying with it in her hands.
His abs flinched when it splayed across his abdomen—gentler than she was sure he thought she was going to surprise him with.
“A warning, Prince,” she told him, the leather brushing his skin as she crawled onto the bed. She straddled over his chest, making him wince, but she leaned over his face and placed a soft kiss on his lips instead.
“Don’t make me do that again,” she whispered.
She moved lower on him, making him jerk his shackles as she kissed down his chest, making sure to give the few red spots on his skin some attention. She paused at his thighs, one hand stroking up and down his length.
“Do you remember what I told you?” she asked as she teased his throbbing cock.
He bucked his hips into her hand and swallowed as he nodded his head. And as Bala lowered her head, he watched her. Her tongue swirled over his tip, tasting the salty moisture, and Dorian cursed.
He cursed as she ran her tongue up and down his length. Cursed as she sucked and teased him. And his hips lifted to her when she took him in as far as she could. He was straining, the chains jerking, apparent he wanted to push her head all the way down. Bala wrapped her hands under his ass, and with his lifting hips, she took him fully, her breath snatching away as he filled her. Gagging as he started movements up and down. But she released his ass and tugged on the collar again, reminding him that this was her show.
Dorian relaxed as she withdrew her mouth.
“You’re such a good boy,” she teased as she took him in her mouth again.
His head threw back, abs flinching, with every draw of her suctioned lips around him, and she heard the wood on the posts creak, saw every muscle in his body strain with the veins that suddenly popped to the surface—including a few black streaks that she hadn’t been prepared for. He was shaking beneath her, twitching in her mouth, and she knew he was in pain at denying his release.
