Why?”
“Because you rev me up, like some toy and then walk away. You’ve been doing it since I met you.”
“That’s me, Camryn. I’m a bastard. But that’s not why I’m not fucking you right now.As much as coming down your throat, and prepping your ass would be delightful, you need to rest.” Stone touches the soft skin under my eyes. The gentle sweep of his fingers makes me sag against his body. “There’s something waiting for you upstairs.”
“What?” I murmur tiredly.
Before he can respond, his body tenses, and I stare up at him to see his focus behind me. I turn to see Onyx standing in the doorway, watching us. He doesn’t look at me, just keeps his eyes trained on Stone. Everything about him screams a warning, and goosebumps erupt along my skin.
“We need to talk.” Onyx’s voice carries across to us.
Stone drops his hand from my face and then looks back down at me. The softness I spotted in his eyes before is dead, leaving behind only empty pools of black.
“Go inside.”
He walks away, leaving me standing in the parking lot. He steps into his shop behind Onyx, and the door shuts behind them. The ‘closed’ sign swings, mocking me. A clear sign that I’m not part of whatever the hell is going on with him and Onyx. I want to follow him and find out what is happening, but I recall those bloated, disfigured bodies rotting on his property. Bodies that he chained there. Do I want to know what that exchange meant? Probably not.
I grip my keys in my hand and head to the gallery, and open the door, stepping inside. Locking it, I step over the even bigger pile of mail on the floor. Of course, the mural stares right at me. I never got to ask him why he did.Yeah, you were too busy begging him in a dark forest.It’s even more stunning in the daylight. Every stroke and line is beautifully done, and I love that it is what visitors will see when they visit.
Would he ever consider a show featuring his art? A giggle escapes, thinking about Stone circulating the gallery, having to make small talk with art critics and guests. His towering 6’6 frame, tattooed body, and scowling face would actually be a hit. The mysterious bad boy biker with his allegorical drawings. He would sell out the entire gallery. An image of him standing in the gallery runs through my mind, except this time it’s just him and me. The look in those phantom eyes makes me shiver. Even pretend Stone gets me hot.
And of course, in that moment, I remember what he said.“There’s something waiting for you upstairs.”
Eager to find out what he meant, I head upstairs and open my front door, looking around, hoping to spot whatever he left. The last gift I got was that box of charcoal and paints that I have yet to use because they are just too damn pretty to use.
Not finding anything, I venture into my bedroom, and it feels like I’m dreaming. There is a freaking king-size bed in the middle of my bedroom. My palette is long gone.
“What the hell?” I whisper, stepping in closer, in disbelief that it exists.
He bought me a fucking bed.
An enormous, comfortable-looking monstrosity that takes up the entire room.
Who the fuck is this man? At every turn, he’s surprising me. Somehow, my feet start moving after the shock wears off, and I move into what I thought was my bedroom, but has now turned into something out of a fantasy book.
The bed, covered with a plush dark green duvet and a mountain of pillows, rests against the ornate headboard that goes to the ceiling. The intricate wood design appears to have been carved by hand. I step closer, studying the details. The satin is a deep, rich brown color, and the carvings resemble wings on either side of a tree, with accents that mimic curling wisps of smoke. It looks out of place in my small, shabby apartment. It’s regal, fit for a queen. The nickname Stone gave me chants through my brain.
The color of the spread is gorgeous, sexy, and sumptuous, pooling on the ground. I lick my lips when my eyes go back to the six pillows at the top of the bed.
“Lift your hips, Countess. These pillows will help my dick go deeper.”
God, that smoky, gruff voice is going to haunt me until the end of my days. Stone was right. When he pushed pillows under my hips the last time he held my legs back and pushed his dick inside me, he felt impossibly deep, and his finger was right on my clit the whole time.
A circular shape in the wood catches my eye. I blink, unsure of what I’m seeing. Stepping closer, I squint, stepping closer because my eyes must be deceiving me. There are small metal hoops anchored in the wood on either side of the headboard.
“Holy Fuck.” I whisper, touching one. They’re meant for restraints. My brain generates a kaleidoscope of visions, all graphic, sweaty, and hedonistic. Images of me, anchored to the bed with colorful cloth around my wrists, tethered to the rings while I strain, my legs wrapped high around Stone’s waist as he kneels in the middle of the bed. I can imagine his big body, moving over mine while he also presses me down into the mattress, his hands holding onto openings in the headboard.
It’s all purposeful. The sexy sheets. The pillows. The rings. He is going to destroy me on this bed, and I can’t wait.
My fingers trail along the edge of the bed, and I moan, feeling the material. It’s some of the softest bedding I’ve ever felt. The last bed I slept in was at Kingsley’s. I didn’t mind sleeping on my little pallet when I first moved in. It wasn’t that important to me, but I guess Stone isn’t a fan of us fucking on the thin mattress I was using. I assumed that when he told me we weren’t done, we would use his bed, the wall, the floor, or whatever other surface we came upon. I’ve also had sex with him in a forest, the shower, and on a kitchen table. Something tells me that Stone isn’t fussy about where we have sex, and I have to admit that when he’s touching me, I don’t care much either.
My eyes spot a medium-sized black velvet bag with a drawstring resting in the middle of the bed. I crawl on the bed and pick it up. It’s heavy. A note is attached. Something about the tilted writing tickles at my memory, but the words make my mouth drop open.
Countess,
Don’t ever let me see you sleeping on the fucking floor again.
The toys are for you, but they belong to me. You will wait for me to use them in your ass.
