Page 81 of Depraved

I lift my chin. “I don’t want what happened to change anything between us. I won’t let them take this from us.”

His lips curve in a proud smile. “That’s my brave girl.”

He carefully buckles the cuffs around my wrists, watching me intently for further signs of fear. “Say the word, and I’ll release you immediately.”

I look up into his blue eyes. “I want to change my safe word.”

He cocks a brow. He doesn’t know that I chose blue as my safe word because his eyes haunted me for the years that separated us.

There’s no darkness associated with their gorgeous hue anymore. I never want to stop looking into them, so it doesn’t make sense as my safe word for everything to stop anymore.

“What do you prefer?” he prompts.

I take a moment to consider. “Is a simple no enough for you?”

“More than enough,” he agrees.

We can still engage in our kinky games, but our connection is deeper than roleplay now. I can communicate with him naturally; I can say anything to him, share any secret.

He’ll accept me. He’ll honor my wishes.

He will never violate me.

Drawing my arms above my head, he secures the cuffs with short chains that he bolted into the bedposts for this exact purpose.

He knows what I like. Our perversions are a perfect match.

I tip my head back, seeking his mouth on mine.

He shoots me a slightly cruel grin and presses his finger to my lips. “No more kissing, remember? Wait.”

I pout. “Tease.”

“You love it.”

“I think that cocky smile is even more unbearable than your arrogant smirk,” I observe coolly.

“You make me crazy. The least I can do is return the favor.”

I huff, but I can’t quite manage to smother a pleased smile of my own.

He takes several minutes to toy with my breasts, massaging them and circling my taut nipples with featherlight touches. I arch into him with a frustrated whine.

“Wait,” he admonishes again.

“Stop edging me.”

He laughs. “I don’t think so. Unless that’s a real request?”

I bite my lip, slightly embarrassed. He’s making me admit that I want more of this slow torment.

“No,” I say breathily. “I don’t want you to stop.”

“Good girl.” He pinches my nipples, and I gasp at the burst of pain-tinged pleasure.

One confident hand continues to torture my breasts, and his other dips to my pussy.

“So wet for me already,” he observes, voice roughened with the edge of a hungry growl.