Is he nervous?
When his hand moved to his belt, I stopped him with my touch. His eyes narrowed, a silent question lingering there, but he lowered his hand without argument. I had no intention of making him feel good. I wanted to torment him.
He will suffer because of me.
I refused to let him see any sign of intimidation, even though my pulse was racing. I had never done anything so impulsive before. Hunger like this had rules, and I would not let myself feed on anything except him.
“Sit,” I demanded, and he obeyed.
He was going to let me do as I pleased. His eyes followed every movement I made. I grabbed the chains and guided his arms above his head. Without a word, he clasped his hands behind his neck. He knew exactly what I wanted without me saying it. I’d done this a hundred times, but uncertainty crept in anyway. Nothing about this felt familiar. The ritual had shifted into something new.
My breath caught as I stared at the scars across his back. Some deep. Some newer. A map of pain he seemed to carry alone. I hesitated too long, frozen by the sight of them. I forced myself to keep going. That wasn’t what either of us came here for.
Or was it?
His cologne hit me next, something familiar, the scent threading through the moments I’d shared with him. The veins in his arms stood out as I secured the restraints. I grabbed a simple belt and wrapped it around his waist, binding his body to the chair. Flesh to metal. He drew a quick breath at the cold bite against his skin. I followed the cords to the observation chair, where the controls waited. One button could break bones. The other would set him free.
I wanted to lick him.
I sat down, crossed my legs, leaned back, and pressed the button. The chains tightened, dragging his arms lower. His legs tried to push off the chair, but the belt held him captive. Thankfully, the chair was an ally, bolted to the ground. His face shifted, teeth clenched, body straining against the pain. He endured it in silence.
“Cezar,” I whispered, “I am standing on the edge of restraint. I worry that once I step in, I won’t have the strength to climb out again. So, tell me… how far are you willing to descend with me into this darkness?”
How far would he let me go?
Everyone breaks.
“I surrendered my control to you long ago, Petal. My body, my will—use me however you desire.” His voice was rough. A canvas of submission, waiting, craving.
“The safe word isRose.” My lips curved into a slow smile. “Let’s begin.”
Chapter 14
CEZAR
The candlelight flickered, painting her in gold, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away. She set the controls on the table, then gathered the edges of her dress and hitched them to her waist. With slow, deliberate ease, she spread her legs. Her fingers traced over the lace of her panties, teasing herself like she wanted to kill me.
She gripped the armrest for balance, head tipping back into the cushion. Her muffled gasps filled the dim room, making me lose my fucking mind.
Her eyes kept shutting. Each time, she forced them open again, bringing them back to me as her fingers moved. Like she needed to see it. Needed to watch the agony she was pulling out of me. My attempts were useless—the chair never budged. My hips kept rolling, chasing any kind of relief I could get in the restraints. The stain on my pants grew darker.
Then she moved the lace aside and eased her fingers into her pussy. Slow at first, then deeper, spreading her wetness with every movement. I could practically feel her heat from across the room, and it was torture. Pure, exquisite torture. The way she fucked herself while holding my stare made the pain sharper, the pleasure unbearable.
How would it feel to taste her…
The hunger that seared through me was animalistic, something I couldn’t cage even if I tried. The clatter of chains against metal grew louder, my body straining as if I could break the chair by will alone. Petal came. Right there in front of me.
Her orgasm ripped through her, her mouth parted, her hand searching blindly for something to hold. She reached the device that controlled my restraints. And then—the chains loosened. I pulled hard against my newfound freedom.
My body wouldn’t move fast enough. She didn’t even realize what she’d done. Her breath hitched, and then I was there, towering over her with my bound hands pulled in front of my torso. Petal looked up at me, surprised. A sheen of sweat glistened on her skin.
“Let me clean you up,” I growled, dropping to my knees. My fucking arms were in the way. I wanted to be on her, inside her, one with her. Since she wasn’t about to unchain me, I had to get the restraints out of the way somehow. So, I went with the one trick I knew.
I used to do this at parties when I was younger, back when things werenormal, and I still had actual brothers.
A loud pop echoed through the room as my shoulders dislocated. My arms snaked behind my back. With legs too long to make it easy, I still reveled in showing her just how flexible I really was. First impressions mattered. Then I’d show her what I could do with my tongue.
She trembled and jerked, biting back her moans. I flicked my tongue over her pink, swollen clit, careful with her sensitivity but hungry for every sound she made. If I were tortured tonight, she would be too. I buried myself between her thighs and drew all of her into my mouth—soft sucking, slow laps—making sure not a single drop went to waste.
