Her back leans against the wall behind her, and she gasps as I bring my lips right to her core, needing to give myself something to tide me over. Gripping her thigh, I spread her legs enough for me to get between them, bringing me impossibly closer to her. The way her chest rises as she looks down at me hits me square in the chest. Everything about this woman is driving me fucking nuts, and I have no idea what the hell I’m going to do. I should be punishing her for what she did, but I find myself weak.
Only for her.
Deciding not to worry about what tomorrow will bring, I focus on what’s right in front of me. I run my tongue along her pussy, and she lets out a small moan. My fingers grip the outsides of her thighs hard enough that there will most likely be bruises added to the one that’s already forming, and that alone makes me almost nut in my pants.
She tastes perfect. A perfect mix of everything.
Something addictive.
Something I can’t see myself getting enough of.
I work my tongue over her clit before sucking it in my mouth, and that’s all it takes—her back bows against the wall, her hand going straight to my head as if needing me closer, but before she can come, I pull back.
She whimpers as her eyes look down at me with pain, and I stand up, no longer on my knees for her. Brielle doesn’t say anything as I reach around and unclip her bra, watching her perfect fucking tits pop free.
Jesus fuck.
I let my eyes roam over her naked body, and I can see a mix of her need and spit dripping down between her thighs, and I want nothing more than to fuck her until she can’t walk, but that’s not the point of this. The point is to make her realize what she wants. What she tried to run away from. She might drive me fucking insane, and I might piss her off to no end, but now she’s mine, and I won’t let her get away.
“Come on,” I mutter, and she follows behind me. I undress myself until I’m in my boxers and step into the shower with her.
I grab a washcloth and carefully clean the gash on her forehead. It’s not deep, but she still hisses when the water hits the cut. She tries to pull away, but I grip her by the throat.
“Stop moving, Brielle.”
It’s just a surface scratch, and there aren’t any other injuries on her body, so I wash her hair and every inch of her skin, making sure to lightly caress every part of her body that craves a release only I can give her.
“You have no idea the things you make me feel.” I turn her around, pressing my hard erection into her ass. She gasps but doesn’t move away.
I reach over her and turn off the water, her arms coming up to cover her naked chest as I grab two towels.
“Out.” I hold the towel open for her, and she listens, still not muttering a word. Good. I’m not sure I’d be able to control myself if she started spewing her comments at me. Some of the anger dissipates, replaced with my own need, but she’s still going to learn her lesson on what will happen if she tries to leave me again.
After we’re both dry, I pull back on my jeans, leaving my wet boxers, and exit the bathroom, the towel still wrapped around her body.
“Get on the bed, Brielle,” I demand, but she doesn’t go. She keeps her feet planted to the ground near the bathroom, her knuckles turning white from the grip she has on the towel.
“No.” She looks up at me, defiance lingering in her gaze.
“Now,” I growl, enough anger in my voice to get her moving.
As she goes to sit down, I grip the towel and pull until she is standing naked once again. She looks up at me before listening and laying on the bed. Reaching down, I find the chains that are already connected to the corners of the bed before gripping her wrist, and she fights me once she realizes what I’m about to do.
“Emris! No! Don’t you fucking dare chain me to this bed,” she grits out between clenched teeth, trying to pull herself free.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do, baby. You did something you shouldn’t have, and now, I’m going to show you exactly what happens when you don’t fucking listen.”
23
BRIELLE
My teeth grind togetheras I try to keep the words in. If I fight him right now things will end way worse for me than what he has planned.
What happened before and during the shower was extremely intimate, and I hate it. There’s no way anything will come of this. Nothing. But fuck, part of me wants him in ways I have no reason to be entertaining. Like how the feeling of his lips lingering on my skin, like nothing else mattered. Like it was only us, as if no one else even existed, and now I find myself craving just that.
My core throbs with need as he stands over me on the side of the bed. The only thing not tied are my legs, and I can’t help but rub them together, desperate for any kind of relief. There’s only one thing that would help, and I refuse to beg. Not him. Not after he told me one day I would, and today isn’t that day.
“Let me go, Emris,” I say, barely loud enough for him to hear me, but he does. The smirk on his face tells me so as his eyes zero in on my thighs rubbing together.
