Curiosity flashes in her eyes as I take out a black leather case from my nightstand. Her breath hitches audibly when I open the latch, revealing what’s inside. She swallows hard, lips parting. “Dominic…”
I take out the leather cuffs first. “Seems like you haven’t learned your lesson yet, Princess.”
She attempts to roll off the bed, but my body traps her. “Get off me,” she screams, shoving my chest with her fists. My cock throbs painfully, and I press it against her stomach, making sure she feels every inch of my arousal. “Do you feel that?” I growl against her ear. “That’s what your resistance does to me.”
She stops struggling, smart enough to realize she can’t win against me. I close the cuffs tightly around her wrists and fasten them to the headboard. My fingers hook into her panties, and I drag them down her legs slowly. She moans, back arching as she uncontrollably spreads her legs.
I step back to watch her on my bed... bound, helpless, and so fucking beautiful.
Grabbing the riding crop from the case, I trail it over her bare skin. “This,” I murmur, “is for your disobedience.” The first strike lands across her thigh. She gasps, jerking against the cuffs. I hit her again, close to her pussy, watching as she cries out in pleasure.
“Be quiet,” I order, flicking the crop against her nipple. She throws her head back, moaning loudly as she pulls on the cuffs again.
“Please…”
“Please, what?”
She says nothing but her thighs grind together, a shameless attempt to get herself off.
“You think you get to cum without my permission?” I murmur, pressing the flat leather tip of the riding crop between her legs.
“Dominic…” she whimpers.
“That’s not an answer.” Slowly, I drag it along her soaked pussy, just enough to tease. “Beg me like the good girl you are.”
“Please, Dominic. Let me cum.”
“Good girl.”
I free myself, wrapping a hand around the base. She licks her lips hungrily. “God…”
“You don’t get God tonight.” I climb onto the bed, settling myself between her thighs. “Don’t move unless I say so.” My vein pulses, barely restrained as I push forward slowly, stretching her inch by inch. “You’re so fucking tight.”
She moans, hips flexing for more contact. That earns her another strike from the crop, and I withdraw, leaving her empty and aching. Her eyes follow me as I return to the open case. When she sees what I pick next, a pair of nipple clamps connected by a fine silver chain, her eyes widen with a glimmer of fear.
“I-I’ve never done that before,” she whimpers.
“Relax, Princess. All you need to say is stop and I will,” I rasp, walking toward her. “But it won’t come to that because I know how to punish and pleasure you at the same time.”
Sinking to my knees beside her, I latch the clamps over her hardened nipples. She lets out a strangled moan that’s far too close to pleasure. I pull the chain, watching her writhe.
“Look at you, enjoying everything I do to you?” I growl, brushing the crop along her thigh again. She pushes her hips forward, releasing a needy whimper that makes my pulse surge. A guttural grunt escapes my lips as I release the cuffs around her wrists and position myself between her thighs once more. “You know the drill, Princess.”
I drive into her with one hard thrust, my hand gripping her jaw so she can’t look away. “This soaked pussy, this sweat-slicked skin, this fucking pleasure, you don’t get any of it without me.”
Chapter eleven
Isabella
The warm shower isn’t enough to drown out my thoughts. I keep cranking the knob hotter, hoping the scalding water can stop the ache in my chest, but no amount of steam seems to wash away the events of last night.
And no, for once, it’s not Dominic’s fault. Of all the people to run into at the party, it had to be my father.
Even now, my head throbs from just thinking about it. Why after all this time? Why did it take losing one daughter to finally remember the other one existed?
I close my eyes, trying to wipe out the hopeless look in his eyes as he begged me to give him another chance. He claimed Dominic had barred him from coming anywhere close to me, that he was forced to beg for a passed even asked if I wanted more gifts.
I desperately want to believe him. I care about him. I shouldn’t, but I do. He’s my father after all. And the stupid little girl in me still craves his affection and approval. It’s very humiliating, and I hate that I still care.
