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Still blindfolded, I reach for his cock with my tongue and find the salty tip, which I lick. I was craving it, actually, waiting for this.

“Yeah,” I breathe, instantly turned on again.

I’m surprised he even gave me something to eat first.

“Good. Because you’re going to be sucking for a while.”

Hmph. We’ll see about that…

Sucking him off proves more difficult with my wrists tied. I can’t do the things he likes with my hands, so I’m entirely reliant on my mouth. I suck as hard as I can, taking him as deep as possible while still trying to breathe. I can’t see his facial expressions—the ones he can’t control when I’m doing it right—so I wait until his muscled thighs tighten since that’s the only other body part I can feel right now. I dig in deep into my current motion of opening my throat.

He’s right… It takes me nearly half an hour of pure determination to get him off. And he doesn’t touch me, even though my pussy is throbbing the entire time, waiting for him.

He doesn’t even touch my breasts or my ass when his hands are usually all over me, and my nipples are tight like painful pebbles. I start to realize, ever so slowly, that this is part of my punishment, too.

He doesn’t make much noise, but I imagine the expression on his face. Eventually, he quivers and spills into my mouth, and I swallow it down.

“Fucking hell.” He rubs his hand along my tied-up injured arm. “That was so fucking good, baby. That was by far the best blow job I’ve ever had.” He takes a warm cloth and wipes my mouth while I fight the swell of pride rising within me. He runs his knuckles along my cheek. “So fucking pretty,” he whispers. “Such a perfect mouth.”

I moan from his praise; it makes every fiber of my being sing. My skin is on fire as he continues running his fingers down and pinches my nipples.

Finally touching me.

My breath is heavy as I shift from my position on my knees and lie back to rest my head despite the awkward position of my injured wrist. He takes that warm cloth and starts cleaning me. I’m not going to complain about it. This is much, much better than my state of despair earlier today when I was grieving. And I want to see what else he has in store for me now.

He runs his hand along my cheek, and I lean into his touch, wishing he would touch more of me. “You want more, sweetheart?”

This is why I think I’m sicker than he is. Because I do want more. I want everything Micah wants to give me. I want to surrender to him fully.

My body trembles as I whisper, “Please.”

He pulls my head back, gripping my hair in his hands.

“Please. Please. Please,” I beg harder, trying to swallow a lump in my throat.

“Good fucking girl,” he growls, my body inviting his, and I can hear the desperation in his voice, too.

This is a side of him I haven’t seen yet. In all our time together, it’s never been quite this dark. I start to wonder if, even though he’s asking, I really have a choice in the matter.

I hear him shuffling, his strong, warm hands grazing my face, and I realize he’s putting the gag back in my mouth. I flinch a little before his lips tickle my ear. “Trust me, baby, you’re going to need this. Is your hand okay?”

I nod, although it’s not okay. It fucking hurts and it’s throbbing, but not wanting to end this yet, I hide its true intensity.

Once my gag is securely back in place, I relax my head against the three logs of wood that make up the headboard. Slowly, he starts kissing my stomach, savoring every moment as he moves to my breasts and finally gives me the release I’ve been craving. Every part of my body dissolves in pleasure. Rising to his feet, he maintains a calm and composed tone.

“Here’s the rule, sweetheart. I’m going to kiss you now and slide my fingers inside you. You’re not allowed to come until I say you can, and if you do, I promise the punishment will hurt in a way that won’t make you moan. Do you understand?”

Shit, there is no way I can control that with him, and he knows it. It barely takes anything for me to get off with Micah. He touches me in one spot, and it happens.

“Nod if you understand, London.”

I force myself to swallow and respond with a nod. As he runs his fingers along my sides, my heart pounds with more intensity than I’ve ever experienced with him before. It’s as if I suddenly don’t recognize the person I’ve spent the last six weeks with. The voice is his, but his body is different. His energy has intensified, and my heart rate spikes.

I shake my head, not wanting to play anymore, moaning and shaking for him to free me. He slips my gag out.

“What is it?” he asks, and the sound of his voice instantly soothes me. It’s Micah; he isn’t some crazed lunatic.

“Micah, I don’t want to do this anymore,” I breathe out. “You’re scaring me. What happened to you today?”