“Pinch those pretty pink nipples,” he growls. “Show me how you like to torment yourself for me.”
Hot lines of pleasure sizzle from my breasts to my clit when I obey, the little hit of self-inflicted pain making me even hotter for him. My inner muscles flutter around the vibe, and my eyes roll back at the rush of ecstasy that sweeps through me.
“Eyes on me,” he demands. “I want to see them shine with your tears when you ache from coming more times than you can count. Are you close?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “Please…”
He lets out a satisfied hum. “Begging for my permission? I didn’t even have to command you to do that.”
“I know what you like.” I try and fail to sound flippant.
He grasps my ponytail and tugs my head back sharply. Little pinpricks tingle along my scalp and dance all the way down my back to reach my throbbing core.
“Come for me, sweet kitten.”
I shatter on a scream, and he’s not even touching my most sensitive areas. There’s only his fist in my hair and my own cruel pinch on my nipples. After the edging with the vibrator, that’s enough to push me over the edge.
Abruptly, he shoves my skirt up to expose me more thoroughly.
“You forgot to say my name. Try again.”
Stinging pain blooms on my clit. Hespankedmy pussy.
I should be indignant, but it feels amazing. Two more sharp swats, and I’m coming again.
“Bones!” My shriek rings out through the forest.
“Better,” he approves. “But I want more. I’m not nearly finished with you.”
Thick fingers tangle in my panties, and the delicate lace rips away as though it’s paper.
My hips lift toward his hand, but he denies me direct contact. Instead, he tucks my ruined underwear into his pocket—a trophy for him to keep.
Raw desire rolls through me, making my legs shake. The eroticism of the purely possessive act sends me to the peak again, and I obediently moan his name when I finish for a third time.
He grabs my wrists and pins them into the dirt with one strong hand. His other replaces my hold on my breasts, pinching and tugging at my nipples. Even though I know my own body better than he does, the cruel sensation of his gloved fingers is hotter than anything I’ve ever experienced.
I whimper his name as I ride the waves of pleasure that crash over me again and again. With the vibrator relentlesslystimulating me, I can’t stop coming. It goes on and on; I didn’t know it was possible to experience such a prolonged orgasm. My thighs quake, and I jerk against his restraining hold. My entire body is so sensitive that even the gentle night breeze on my bare chest is an unbearable contrast to the heat of his touch.
I’m babbling his name, begging for mercy. For more. Forhim.
He releases my breasts, but it’s not a reprieve. My torment has barely begun, and I’m already a dirty, writhing mess.
His hand dips lower, and I scream at the first brush of his thumb over my hypersensitive clit. He takes time to toy with me, learning the exact rhythm and pressure to make me shatter for him. Hot tears stream down my temples to wet my hair: a vicious, cathartic release.
When I can barely take any more, he finally relents. He swirls his glove through my wet arousal.
“Bones,” I whisper in ragged protest.
His desire-slicked finger presses against my asshole.
“You belong to me,” he says with the weight of an oath. “All of you. Relax for me, Karolina. Let me claim you.”
I’m too lost to feel more than a flicker of fear over his feverish declaration.
“Yes,” I moan. “I want you. Make me yours.”
This is a familiar game we play, even if it’s never felt more visceral than it does in this moment. I slip into it easily, without thinking through the implications.
