His thumb slips under my underwear and finds my clit. His calloused fingers stroke me in skilled, surprisingly gentle patterns. A leisurely circle sparks electricity straight through my core.
While I’ve never had sex with someone else, I’ve pleasured myself plenty of times. This…is nothing like that.
At first, the loss of autonomy terrifies me. Underneath the terror, though, a hot, taboo yearning surfaces and sizzles under my skin.
Part of me yearns to surrender so he can take complete control. To finally give in and stop fighting.
The thought shatters as his thumb circles again, this time with more pressure. The sensation radiates out in waves. I curl my toes, twisting off the bed despite the restraints.
A low moan rips from my throat.
I hide my face behind my bound arms, torn between pleasure and fury. If I don’t see him, if I don’t watch his expression, maybe I can pretend I’m dreaming. Lost in some fantasy. Anything but the truth.
Damn this fucker for getting me off when I’m supposed to be killing him.
“Look at me.” His dark tone demands obedience, compelling me to comply. “Look at me, or I’ll stop.”
Bastard.
Our gazes lock, his arctic blue eyes blazing with the same dizzying vortex of hatred and desire that swirls in my core.
“Good girl.”
The words stir a shiver through me that has nothing to do with temperature. He taunts me with his praise, but my traitorous body apparently has no shame.
His thumb starts again in that same steady circle, firm and building in speed. “See? You’re enjoying this.”
As much as I long to deny him, he’s not wrong.
“Since you did what I asked, you get a reward.” He bends farther over my body.
I’ve no idea what he’s planning until his mouth closes over my nipple through the thin fabric of my tank top. Tentative at first, his tongue traces the outline before flicking over the hard peak. I jolt, a shudder running from my head to my toes.
I curve into him, unable to stop the instinctive response that presses my breast against his mouth, that begs for more without words.
He chuckles. Fuckingchuckles. The sound vibrates against my breast and straight down to my pussy.
I hate this. Hate him. And I’m not going to just lie here and endure this mockery.
I tense my core, readying my legs to twist and kick, but then his teeth close around my nipple. The border between pleasure and pain short-circuits my brain and lights up every nerve ending.
My heels twitch, digging into the bed. My hips buck without conscious thought. He presses harder on my clit, the knuckles of his fingers tight against my opening.
This is so much better than anything I imagined in those dark, desperate moments alone in my bed.
Better because he’s dangerous? Because I’m not sure if I’d rather murder him or ride him until this pressure releases? Because he could kill me but instead coaxes responses from my body as if he owns it?
His mouth drifts to the other nipple, where he gives the same treatment of tongue and teeth, walking the line between too much and not enough. He sucks in, dragging the peak into his mouth.
He continues to circle that hypersensitive bundle of nerves.
I spread my knees wide, turning off my shame and granting him access.
He must sense my surrender because he lifts his head from my breast, his lip curling. “That’s it. Show me you want this.”
I grit my teeth as his thumb grinds against me. Knuckles twist, gaining access. The pleasure spikes in a sharp, near-painful burst.
I arch against the restraints digging into my wrists, welcoming the bruising sensation.
