“Yes, I can. It’s… deeply unsettling. I think I understand now.”
“Not yet. Your lesson ends when I say so, not when you deem it. That’s part of being powerless.” Her hand landed on the middle of his chest, on the bare skin revealed by the opening of his shirt. She undid the buttons until his torso was naked, then, sliding down her hand, she cupped his rock-hard erection and gave it a brief squeeze. He groaned, on the painful edge of pleasure, his hips thrusting into her touch as much as his bonds allowed. But she withdrew her hand immediately, leaving him panting with unsatisfaction.
“You are still hard.” Her voice was husky, but her gaze was implacable.
He just grunted because there was no good response to that. His state was more than obvious.
With a tsk, she left the bed again to rummage in one of the drawers. When she turned back to him, the object she had in her hands sent the first pang of real fear through him. She was holding a wicked dagger and looking at him with glittering eyes. When she came over to him and rested the blade on his thigh, he had to stop himself from flinching.
“Josie, do you know how to use that?”
As an answer, she brought her hand to the waistband of his trousers and undid the first button.
Merciful God in heaven, he had dreamed of having her undress him; he could imagine nothing better than her hands on him. But not while she was holding a sharp dagger and had doubtful intentions.
“Josie, wait. What do you intend?”
Another button, yet another… His dumb cock sprang forth into her waiting hand, oblivious of the danger. She gripped him firmly, and his protests of alarm turned into a groan of ecstasyas she pumped him, slowly at first, gaining speed as he arched, straining against his bonds. Never before had he felt this unholy mixture of fear and arousal. His cock was leaking with his imminent orgasm. A moment more and he would….
She released him.
His cock fell with a hard thud against his belly, and he buried his growl of frustration on the side of his outstretched arm.
The rip of fabric had him raising his head. “Jaysus, what are you doing?”
Her smile was not at all reassuring. “It would be impossible to remove your trousers while you are tied,” she explained as if her logic was perfectly obvious.
The ease with which the dagger sliced through the fabric was proof of how sharp and deadly it was. To say he was terrified of having that sharp weapon anywhere close to his genitals was a massive understatement. He watched her closely as she sliced one leg of his trousers from hem to crotch then did the same with the other.
With a few more slices and tugs, his trousers and undergarments had been reduced to ribbons, and she brushed them aside, leaving him completely exposed and his cock standing at attention, like a puppy eager for her touch. Her fist closed around him and his head fell back in an agonized groan.
She once again caressed him until he was about to spill and then released him at the last moment.
“Oh, bloody hell.”
He lost count of how many times she brought him to the brink of orgasm only to leave him unfulfilled. He was sweating, panting, begging for mercy, and more aroused than he’d ever been. Desperation loosened his tongue.
“Are you enjoying torturing me?”
Her gaze snapped to his, her eyes widening. “I am.”
“Good. I’m glad you are. I bet your pussy is weeping.”
She whimpered but refused to answer. Outraged at his crude words, or surprised to find it true?
“Don’t you just want to sink onto my cock, Josie? It’s hard and ready for you.”
“I bet you would enjoy that,” she challenged.
“Of course I would.” He regarded her tenderly. “Love, if your intention is to force me in order to make me experience what you did…you can’t. You can’t force what is willingly given.”
Her eyes narrowed, and something flashed in the blue depths too fast for him to decipher.
“You think that’s what this is about? Oh, Michael. I wouldn’t want to inflict that on my worst enemy. Much less the man I—” She shook her head, cutting off her speech.
She was about to say love, he knew it in his heart. He longed to hear her say it but would accept her retreat for now.
“It’s not about forcing you,” she whispered. “It’s about being in control. Holding all the power. Maybe making you feel a bit helpless. It’s about knowingyoucan’t do anything to forceme.”
