I whimper against the horse, not even sure if what I say will make a difference. It didn’t when he asked which clothing I wanted him to cut off. Is he going to fuck both my holes?
Declan’s hand leaves me, only for his palm to crack against my ass cheek. His spank enflames my sensitive skin, drives my thighs against the padded edge of the box, and pulls a gasp from me. He bends over me, mouth by my ear.
“I asked you a question.”
“I don’t know anything about the package,” I say desperately. “I’ve told you already. Kurt saidnothingto me.”
He chuckles softly. “I know, Hellcat. I believe you, I really do. No, that wasn’t the question I was referring to.”
“What?” It takes me a moment to follow that. But in my defense, I’m not really at my mental peak rightnow. “You believe me?”
“Yes. You’ve convinced me.” His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, close enough to my ear that I can feel his breath. “To be fair, I did have my doubts that Renner would’ve shared his plans with you.”
“What?”So through all this, he never really believed I had the answers? “You tortured me fornothing?”
“Torture?” He laughs. “Is that what you call it when you come so hard?” A hand cups my bottom, squeezing. “I admit, I did start all of this with the sole intent of extracting information from you, but I abandoned that awhile ago. Still, it’s a little harsh to say this was all fornothing.”
His fingers slide lower, then one pushes inside me. I gasp softly, feeling the egg shift at his intrusion. He’s still leaning over me, mouth near my ear, his touch stroking within me as he speaks. “The question I was referring to you seem to have forgotten. So I’ll ask once more. Ass, or pussy?”
Declan’s making me decide. Stating my willingness, by choosing. Maybe I do get a say.
Or maybe it’s just another of his games. Making me beg for him to fuck one hole, then choosing the other. Or both, whatever answer I give.
I wouldn’t put it past him.
He won’t be gentle, either. I know he won’t. Even though he’s admitted he’s not interrogating me anymore. Now it’s just what… his own sadistic amusement?
Either way, there’s only one choice.
“Pussy,” I reply. Then tag on a belated, “…Please.” It might help to be polite. Not much, but a little. A minor cost in pride for the chance of an ounce of kindness.
“Are you sure?” he inquires solicitously. “Your ass might be fun, especially when the egg still has some battery left.”
I shudder at that image. No one’s ever taken my ass, but if he were to… the egg might help distract. “I’m sure,” I whisper.
“Your ass another time then,” he says, like it’s a promise. A foregone conclusion.
As if I’ll ever let myself be in such a predicament again.
His finger scoops the egg from within me, making me tense as it slides out. It bounces on the mat somewhere behind me.
“I did buy some lube,” he tells me, oversharing. “I don’t think we’re going to need it. Do you?”
Or in other words, I’m humiliatingly, demonstrably, soaking wet. But then I have just come, harder than I’ve come in… forever.
Actually, it’s not been that long. A week since he last tied me down, toyed with me, made me come hard enough to see stars.
It’s been a bit of a trend with him.
Better sex in four weeks of Declan than the rest of my life put together.
Mind blowingsex, if I’m honest. It’s not even a close comparison.
Tied up twice. Punished once, tortured once… unless I count his tongue. Tortured twice, then.
Maybe it’s so goodbecausehe ties me up and tortures me.
That’s a worrying thought.
