Page 250 of Reign

Elena is kneeling naked with her arms bound behind her and my cock filling her mouth, and she’s still finding a way to compete with me.

Still trying to collect every reaction.

Still Elena.

I tighten my grip in her hair. “You’re enjoying this.”

Her eyes brighten.

She swallows around me.

My control slips again.

Every wet sound, every vibration of her moans against my skin, every time she takes me deeper than I give myself to her chips away at discipline I’ve spent years perfecting.

I reach behind her and close my free hand around the ropes binding her wrists.

The restraint gives me complete control over her position. I pull gently, drawing her shoulders tighter and lifting her breasts as I push into her mouth again.

Her throat closes around me.

A soft, choked sound escapes her.

“Fuck—Elena.”

Her name comes out wrecked.

I feel wrecked.

This is better than every version I imagined—and there were many.

But imagination never accounted for her choosing it.

I imagined the rope. Her mouth. The helplessness of having her arranged entirely for my use.

I didn’t understand what her trust would do to me.

Every knot makes her my responsibility. Every change in her breathing belongs to me to notice. I control how deeply she takes me, how long I hold her there, when she gets relief.

The responsibility is as intoxicating as the power.

I push in and hold.

Her eyes water, but they remain open and clear and on me.

When I draw back, she inhales through her nose. A thick string of spit connects her swollen lower lip to the head of my cock.

She looks obscene.

Beautiful and proud of herself.

She should be.

I wipe one escaped tear from her cheek with my thumb.

“One more.”

She opens before I finish speaking.