He withdrew his fingers, and I slumped against my bindings, not sure if I was relieved or disappointed.
Until something harder and thicker pressed against my entrance. I inhaled sharply as he slid inside, so slowly I wondered if he was trying to skewer me with his cock.
“Easy,” he whispered, brushing hair off my sweaty face. He cupped my cheek and kissed my lips, a few careful pecks rather than the deep kisses we’d shared before. “Want me to continue or pull back? I’ll listen to you this time.”
I licked my lips and said, “Continue.”
He obeyed, sliding himself fully inside me one inch at a time. He pulled back slowly, then eased back in.Deep and slow,just how I’d asked when he was being contrary.
I tilted my head to whisper in his ear, “I changed my mind.”
He stopped immediately, halfway inside of me.
“Fuck me hard and fast.”
He obeyed, snapping his hips forward in a thrust that had me gasping and arching up to meet him.
After that, I forgot all about giving orders or who was supposed to be in control.
Chapter Thirty-Five: Trey
Between Orgasms
Wilde’s Bedroom
Sliding into Paradise
At some point while moaning orders I ignored, Wilde stumbled upon the new command phrase to unlock the handcuffs. He yanked his arms free and wrapped them tightly around me. Hearing him say it almost made me cum, but it was the sharp burn of his nails in my flesh that pushed me over the edge.
I bit his shoulder as I came deep inside him, needing to fill him up so he could never be rid of me. I took a few seconds to catch my breath, then started to slide out of him. I’d barely moved when his hole clenched around me. He dragged his nails down my back, dug them into the curve of my ass, and pulled me forward until I was once again buried to the hilt.
I expected another order, something like “Who said we were done”, but he let his lips do the talking. Wilde pulled me back into a kiss, teeth scraping against my tongue, more hunger than skill. The tight squeeze of his hole and the lingering pain had me rising to the occasion, ready for a second round.
Cumming while he scratched the fuck out of me was a little embarrassing, so I needed some kind of revenge. Despite his gasping and grasping protests, I pulled away enough to reposition us both, me on myknees, one of his legs thrown over my shoulder. The new pose opened him wide so he couldn’t hide anything from me.
I adjusted the angle of my hips until I found the same spot he’d loved and hated earlier, then relentlessly pounded into it.
The whole time, I’d avoided his cock only because I knew he wanted me to touch it. Now I grabbed it and stroked it in sync with each thrust.
Wilde tossed his head back and the sounds he made now were so incoherent, they didn’t resemble words, let alone orders.
Some version of me buried deep in my memories crowed with triumph over a promise fulfilled. I let him have his moment, then shoved him aside as I focused on Wilde. When he finally came and every part of him clenched with pleasure, I followed soon after.
I lowered his leg and flopped next to him on the bed. I knew I should clean us both off, let him sleep, but I took a moment to admire my work. The bitemarks peppering his skin. The red shadow of the cuffs—with all of my dad’s enchantment, those had to be purposeful—and the dazed look in his eyes. His lips were parted and wet and swollen, and his white hair was a sweaty tangle around his face. Anyone who looked at him would know he’d been thoroughly fucked.
His eyes kept drifting closed, but he forced them open, trying to stay awake through his exhaustion. After a few repetitions of this, I finally realized the problem.
“I’ll still be here when you wake.”
Within minutes, he fell asleep. I waited until his body relaxed and his breathing evened out, then finally got out of the bed.
I’d hardly looked at the room before tumbling onto the bed with Wilde, but now I took my time to explore it. What I thought was only a bedroom turned out to be a full suite, with a small kitchenette, a sitting area, and a closed door leading to a bathroom. My memories of the place were still hazy, but fragments of conversation returned to me.
What if I order you to stay?
You know I don’t like orders.
What if I asked?
