“No,” I say too quickly.
He chuckles. “Liar.”
I glare at him, which only deepens his amusement.
He moves to my ankles next, binding them loosely near my hips so my legs stay folded and open, the entire pose arranged with obscene care. I am not spread painfully wide, only undeniably displayed.
Then he pauses. He studies every line of rope, every angle of my body, then adjusts the pillow under my left thigh by half an inch. He runs his hands over the ropes where they cross my wrists, my thighs, my ankles, checking for slack, pressure, circulation. Every touch is practical.
Which somehow makes it worse. Is he aroused? Do I want him to be?
Merde… I do, don’t I?
When he’s done, I pull once more at my hands, then my legs.
Nothing.
I can’t close my knees. I can’t sit up properly. I can’t cover myself. I can’t move more than a few inches in any direction.
A tremor works through me.
Az rises to his full height beside the bed, looking down at what he has made of me.
Bound. Bare. Breathing hard.
“Comfortable?” he asks.
My voice comes out thin. “No. Yes.”
Something unreadable passes over his face.
He sits beside my hip and smooths a strand of hair from my cheek.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Then we may begin teaching your body the difference between captivity... and surrender.”
13
ASMODEUS
I’ve seen and done almost every depraved act you can imagine, with all types of participants and in varied numbers. But the sight of Simone bound, spread open for me, her heart fluttering wildly—it has me on the edge of orgasm, feeling a high unlike any other. I’d been waiting to see her naked for far too long, and now I finally can.
The soft, porcelain skin of her thighs is decorated by the crisscrossing ropes I used to bind her. Her pussy is shaved and trimmed—she’d clearly been using all the products I had Forneus retrieve from the mortal world—and glistening with arousal. Hesitantly, I extend a finger, unable to resist testing if she’s as soft as she looks. Simone inhales sharply, but my touch is gone as fast as it came. I look at my fingertip, which still feels like it’s tingling from the brief contact. It’s incredible, the effect she has on me.
“Now what?” Simone asks breathily. I look up, my gaze traveling over her belly and briefly snagging on her firm breasts, the rosy tips already peaked, before moving to her ethereal face. My little fairy looks apprehensive, but not terrified.
Good.
“Tell me, how do you prefer to touch yourself, Simone?”
She blinks at me, shuddering. “T-touch myself? You mean…”
My lips curve into a smile. “Yes, I do mean.” I move closer, close enough to where she should feel my breath between her legs. But then I move up her body, pressing my lips against her belly button, then hovering over one of her breasts, propped up by the ropes. “Do you like to caress your breasts when you’re masturbating?”
When she doesn’t answer, I look up from the tempting mounds, catching her gaze.
“I… Yes,” she finally admits, a lovely pink flush coloring her cheeks. “I like to play with my breasts. Caress them, t-tug on my n-nipples.”
“That’s my good girl,” I praise her, fascinated by the way it makes her heart skip a beat. “You should always be honest with me. Because I’d know if you’d lie.”
