“What information were you supposed to gather?” Suha continues when I don’t answer. He brings the scalpel up, turning it so the blade catches the light. “Financial records? Client lists? Shipment schedules?”
“I wasn’t gathering information. I just wanted—” I cut myself off, biting down on the words.
“Wanted what?”
I press my lips together. There’s no good way to say this. No explanation that won’t make me sound like a complete lunatic.
Suha waits a moment longer, then shrugs slightly. “Have it your way.”
He leans over me, and I feel my heart rate spike. The scalpel comes down and I suck in a breath, bracing for pain, but hedoesn’t cut deep. He just traces the tip around the outside of my left nipple in a slow, deliberate circle. The sting is sharp and immediate, like a paper cut multiplied by ten. Blood wells up along the shallow line, bright red against my skin, and starts to drip down my chest in thin rivulets.
“I can carve pieces off you all day if I need to,” Suha says calmly. He lifts the scalpel and examines the blood on the tip. “See how long it takes before you start talking. I’m a patient man.”
The pain radiates outward from the cut in hot waves. It stings like hell, sharp and burning, and I can feel more blood trickling down my ribs to pool on the sheets beneath me. But underneath the pain is something familiar and almost welcome. That edge of hurt that makes my nerves light up, that makes me feel alive and present in my body.
I look up at him and grin, even though my chest is on fire. “Jokes on you because I’m into that shit.”
Suha pauses. The scalpel hovers in the air between us, and for the first time since he walked into this room, his expression shifts. Not much—just a slight quirk of his eyebrow, a faint curve at the corner of his mouth that might be amusement.
“Is that so,” he says. It’s not a question.
He sets the scalpel down on the bedside table, next to the other instruments. My relief is short-lived because he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out something else. Something sleek and black and unmistakably shaped like—
Oh, fuck.
It’s a butt plug. Not just any butt plug either, but one of those expensive ones with the smooth silicone coating and the little charging port at the base. The kind that vibrates. The kind that probably has multiple settings and can be controlled remotely.
My stomach does this complicated flip that’s half dread and half something I don’t want to examine too closely.
Suha holds it up, turning it in the light like he’s admiring a piece of art. “Since you’re so fond of pain,” he says, still in that same conversational tone, “let’s see how you handle something else.”
He nods at his guards. They move to either side of the bed and grab my legs, spreading them wider despite the chains already holding me open. One of them produces a bottle of lube from somewhere and hands it to Suha.
I watch, unable to look away, as Suha uncaps the bottle and drizzles the clear liquid over the plug. He takes his time coating it thoroughly, his movements unhurried. Then he shifts position, moving between my spread legs, and I feel the blunt tip of the plug press against my hole.
“Wait—” I start to say, but he’s already pushing it in.
The stretch burns. I’m not prepped, not ready, and even with the lube it’s too much too fast. My body tries to resist but he’s relentless, pushing steadily until the plug slides home with a final push that makes me gasp. The flared base settles against my rim and I can feel it inside me, thick and intrusive, pressing against places that make my toes curl.
Suha sits back, surveying his work with what might be satisfaction. He pulls something else from his pocket—a small remote, black and sleek to match the plug.
Oh no.
He presses the button.
The plug roars to life inside me and I arch off the bed with a strangled gasp. The vibrations are intense, stronger than I expected, buzzing against my prostate with relentless pressure that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. Heat floods through my body, pooling low in my gut, and my cock fills almost instantly.
“Fuck,” I gasp out, pulling against the chains. The metal bites into my wrists but I barely feel it over the overwhelming sensation of the plug vibrating inside me.
Suha watches me with that same blank expression, like he’s just observing. He adjusts something on the remote and the vibrations shift, pulsing in waves that make my hips jerk involuntarily.
The pleasure builds fast, too fast. I can feel my orgasm approaching already, coiling tight in my belly, my cock leaking against my stomach. Just a little more, just a few more seconds—
The vibrations stop.
I make a noise somewhere between a groan and a whine, my body strung tight and desperate. My cock throbs, angry and neglected, and I can feel myself teetering right on the edge but with nothing to push me over.
“Are you ready to talk?” Suha asks calmly.
