His hand slid down my neck, stopping at the center of my chest, hovering without touching.
“…I wanteverything.”
My heart hammered so hard I felt it in every strap around my body. Here I was bound, blindfolded, gagged, and couldn’t respond if I wanted to. But here I was at his mercy, never having ever been so present in my life.
“Color?”
He pulled the gag back a tad, long enough for me to answer.
“Green.”
He released it, his fingers closed around my thigh possessively.
“Good,” he said. “Let’s get started shall we?”
Chapter 22
Sebastian
“Let’s get started, shall we?”
The words came out quieter than I intended, vibrating through my chest rather than the air. Mira couldn’t see me. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t move more than the inch the straps allowed. And yet her entire body answered me—back arching almost imperceptibly, nipples tightening beneath that barely-there bra, breath catching around the gag in a way that made my control slip for a dangerous half-second.
God, she was stunning like this. Bound. Blindfolded. Gagged. Trying her hardest to be still for me.
She didn’t understand yet that stillness was a choice, and she’d already surrendered it.
I brushed my thumb slowly along the inside of her thigh, tracing the edge of the leather strap. She flinched, not away. Toward. Always toward.
She was beautiful.
I tightened my grip, just enough to remind her I was in control but not enough to bruise. Not yet.
“Such a good girl,” I murmured, watching the way her breath stuttered at the praise. “Even when you panic.”
Her fingers clenched around the squeaky toy. The absurdity of it should have broken the moment, but it didn’t. It heightened it. She wasn’t voiceless, wasn’t powerless…just muted. She held the one thing that could end everything in a heartbeat.
And I knew she wouldn’t use it.
She’d push herself. Let me take her to the edge again and again.
She was perfection. Exactly what I’d been searching for, inside and outside of Sanctum. The thought hit me hard.
Would she run if she knew it was me holding the crop?
I leaned in close enough that my breath warmed the underside of her jaw. She froze. Every nerve in her body fired at once. She thought I was going to kiss her.
I wanted to. Instead, I pressed my mouth to the corner of hers, lips brushing skin and leather, close enough to promise, far enough to deny.
She wasn’t the only one being denied tonight. I'd never understood how a kiss could unravel a person until the first time my lips touched hers. Even now, restraint felt like a choice I was actively suffering through.
“You have no idea,” I whispered, “how much I enjoy you like this.”
Her breath hitched around the gag, a soft, needy sound she probably hated herself for making. I wanted to hear it again.
I skimmed two fingers slowly up the center of her sternum. Not touching, hovering a hair above her skin. She responded anyway. Her body arched into the phantom contact, chasing something that wasn’t there. My restraint thinned.
“Color,” I said quietly.
