“Hold still.” I clip the sterilized receiving tube around the hood. “You’ll only feel a pinch.”
She screams. A brutal, raw sound that cracks through the dungeon as I drive the needle through and slide the jewelry into place in one smooth, practiced motion.
“You absolute motherfucking bastard—!” she sobs, writhing in her bonds, eyes squeezed shut, a tear streaking down her cheek.
And yet, I see it—the way her legs tremble, the flush of heat spreading from her chest to her thighs, not just from pain…but from something desperate.
I fasten the ball, admire my work, and press a cool kiss to her trembling thigh. “Beautiful. You’ll feel everything sharper now. Every flick. Every stroke. Every denial.”
Hell, she could stumble up the stairs, and it would trigger an orgasm. She deserves every damn one. And it fills me with pride to know my hand, nor any other, will need to touch her for her to get off. But anytime she does, I’ll smirk with pride. Because my hand has set it in motion.
The second I work one finger inside her and kiss her, she clamps down on my finger—unable to battle the pain andpleasure endorphins surging through her. God, what a sight she is, her pussy squelching, squeezing around my finger while her moans echo in my mouth.
Once she comes down, I hold her jaw gently and kiss her brow. “That’s my good girl. All done.”
But my job isn’t over.
“The titanium barbells will stay in for at least six months—no exceptions,” I draw the line while I inspect the piercings. “Twice daily cleanings with saline. No twisting. No touching with unwashed hands. No tight bras. No swimming. No friction unless you want to tear the healing tissue and start from scratch.”
“Oooh,” Rory calls from across the room. “So that means we get more days with her pretty tits hanging out?”
She growls again. “Fuck you, Red.”
“No touching,” I say sharply. My voice slices through the post-orgasm haze. “That includes no licking, sucking, biting, clamping, or toys. These are mine until healed. No exceptions.”
“Ye ruin all my fun, Doc.”
I ignore him, cupping Briella’s flushed face and smoothing a sweat-soaked curl behind her ear. “That includes you, Babydoll. No enthusiastic fondling. Mild showers. I’ll supervise your recovery personally.”
She glares at me. “Hate you.”
I kiss her again.
And just like that, her head tips, spine arches, and she melts into the straps. Good.
One kiss is all it takes to annihilate her, and she’s back to arching and swooning for me.
“Fine.” She blows steam through her nostrils. “I love you.”
Damn.
83
Seth
“BITS AND PIECES OF YOU. THEY’RE EVERYWHERE.”
Citizen Soldier Playlist
“Invisible”
“Reason to Live”
“Sit in the Shadows:
SIX WEEKS LATER
My muscles have never ached more.
