“You sent the dress. You’ve been watching me.” My head swims. “How long? And why me?”
“I can give you answers. But you’ll owe me more orgasms.”
I press my lips together.
“I will say this. I enjoy hunting. And you are the perfect prey.”
“This is sick.”
“Is it?” His hand roams over my thighs, slapping lightly. I jolt, but he’s holding me fast. He cups my sex with his hand, and we both can feel it—how wet I am. “Or is it just what you need?”
I wrench away. I’m back to my senses, fighting him. He lets me up but catches me lazily and pulls me across the room. I kick and claw him, but he cuffs one hand and then the other to the cross.
“Does it make you feel better? Fighting me?”
“Fuck you,” I spit.
“Oh, I will.” He grips my sex, this time squeezing my labia until I cry out. “But not tonight. Not until you beg me for it.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Do you want to bet?” He finds the spots he tormented before. The ones I’ve savored. The spot on my hip, the bruises at the crook of my elbows. He digs his thumbs in, and I writhe. “I know you. I know what you need.”
The pain blooms through me, washing me clean.
“There she is. There’s my girl.” He sets his knee between my legs. The ridge of his thigh brushes my bare sex. “Take what you need.”
This time, he does nothing to make me come. It’s all me. I grind down on his leg, angling my hips any way I need, chasing pleasure. Sweat rolls down my bare back, making me slide against the leather. I grab the cuff chains and strain, leaning back so I can slide on his pant leg. The slick sound it makes has me cringing, but the scent of him surrounds me, washing all shame away. There’s only him and me and need.
And the way he’s staring at me like he’s never seen anything so exquisite, so divine. “You’re beautiful.”
I make a desperate sound.
“Do you need more? Do you need me?”
I nod.
He plumps my breasts, pinching my nipples. And then, he twists them as if he’d tear them from my body. Pain slices through me, and my orgasm surges in my belly.
He steps forward, trapping me between his body and the cross. He’s everywhere, the wool of his slacks scratching my inner thighs, his crisp white shirt sticking to my skin, his cheek brushing the top of my head. Surrounding me, keeping me safe as pleasure claws at me.
At some point, he releases my nipples to hold me. The sting increases as the blood rushes in.
My sex throbs against his leg. I came, but it wasn’t enough.
“I need it,” I sob.
“I know, little bird. And I’m here. I’m going to give you everything.”
* * *
Him
She’s incredible,cuffed to the cross, her eyes glazed, pupils blown. Her golden skin glows in the low light.
I step back and remove my tux jacket. I didn’t take the time to strip before. The difference in power—her bared to my gaze, me fully clothed—is too potent a weapon not to wield in a scene.
But now I need to feel her against me.
