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And it only takes seconds for the sensation to become too much.
“Stop. That’s enough.” But he just sucks harder.
Runi doesn’t stop. Not even close.
He pushes a third finger inside me, switching his tongue placement and forcing another fierce orgasm out of me in a matter of seconds. I’m covered in sweat and buzzing from the aftermath of my second orgasm. But he’s still not done.
“Sir…please,” I finally beg, but it’s for him to stop punishing my clit.
“One more, give me one more,” Runi utters right before he sucks on my sensitive core, pumping in and out of me with ease as I lose myself, pain and pleasure fighting as another orgasm rushes through me.
My screams and pleads fill the air, and that’s when he finally releases me. My entire body slumps against the bed frame, breathless and spent as I try to will my body to stop shaking.
Moments later, I sense his imposing figure behind me as his fingers wind around to the front of my neck. He draws me back against his chest, and I feel the rapid thud of my pulse against his grip. It’s not an overly tight hold, just enough to command attention.
His lips brush my ear. “You came without my permission. I own you tonight, remember? You’re going to be punished for what you just did.”
I know that’s supposed to scare me or make me feel bad for going against his wishes, but at the same time, there is a twisted part of me that is insanely turned on by whatever awaits. I want him to punish me. To make it hurt. I want to look at myself in the mirror tomorrow and see marks all over my body from him.
But I don’t say that. Biting my tongue, I say the one thing I don’t mean. “I’m sorry.”
Runi groans disapprovingly, his grip loosening around my neck before he disappears altogether and I collapse back against the bed.
CHAPTER 14
ZOE
After two more intense orgasms, Runi picks me up and carries me to the bathroom. He stays quiet, not giving me any praise or attempting to fill the silence with words, which is really nice. I sit on the bathroom counter as he removes my blindfold, his intricate, black Victorian mask back in place, covering half his beautiful face as he slowly caresses me, wiping my body with a warm towel.
I’m not used to engaging in any sensual or emotional activity after sex. My go-to move is to get dressed as quickly as possible and leave. But I’m fully aware that aftercare is sometimes just as important as the act itself, so I remain perfectly still and watch Runi work.
He applies cream to the angry, red scratches on my wrists before retreating into the room again. Glancing at my hands, a smile forms on my face as I observe the assortment of marks on my body. They aren't solely from the rope; there are clamps, teeth imprints, and hickeys too. He truly didn’t leave any part of me untouched.
I have the sudden desire to face the mirror and take a look at myself, but fear claws at my insides, preventing me from confronting the person staring back. I dread hearing my mother’s disapproving tone as I gaze at my lips, or seeing my father’s disdain reflected back at me. I won’t let them shame me. Not when this feels so right.
Nothing has ever felt this good.
Runi walks in, holding a pile of black clothes in his hand. He sets them aside and steps in between my legs, inspecting my face.
“Those are for you. After I get you cleaned up.”
He grabs a fresh wet cloth and begins dabbing my cheek.
“Does it look bad?”
Avoiding eye contact, a subtle twitch marks the corner of his lips, as if he’s trying to hold back a smile. He chooses to ignore my question, leaving a disquieting knot of unease in the depths of my stomach. It makes me want to get as far away as possible. Put as much distance between him and myself. Forget everything and everyone. That’s where I thrive; in the aftermath surrounded by loneliness.
After what seems like an eternity of silence, I can no longer help myself. “Is this it, then? Can we wrap it up?”
His eyes find mine, sharp and demanding. He’s so incredibly beautiful that it’s hard not to get lost in him.
“Why would we do that?”
“You don’t have to do any of this.”
He shakes his head, a loose curl falling in front of one eye. “I want to. Does my silence bother you, little butterfly? I’m just trying to figure you out.”
“There is nothing to figure out.” I shift from his touch, and he quirks a brow at me.
