It wasn’t enough for me, and I held the eye contact as I ran my tongue over the soaked fabric. Her sweet taste exploded in my mouth.
“Don’t do that,” she hissed. Or tried to. Her outrage came out as little more than a breathy protest.
“Why?”
“Because… Because.”
I did it again.
“You’re twisted.”
“For you? Definitely.”
I pocketed the fabric I had no intention of giving back before stripping. I drank in her reaction to me, loving the unmasked desire that was evident on her face. She hid a lot behind her walls, but never that. It was open. Genuine. There was nothing calculating or conniving about it. About her, for that matter.
She just wanted me.
Which was good since I sure as fuck wanted her.
I fisted myself, and she rocked back against nothing. Her arms wiggled in the restraints, as if they’d suddenly loosened to allow her to touch herself. I stroked a few times as I rounded her prone body, trying to decide where to start.
I thought about using the control panel on the wall to lift the swing so her toes barely touched the floor, leaving her constantly battling to find stability. I also considered lifting her knees into the hammock so they were tucked under her, leaving her open and vulnerable.
After my second slow stroll around her, I decided to leave her as she was. I wanted her to have a little range of motion so I could see how she reacted.
Moving to the stocked cabinet, I grabbed two packaged items and quietly unwrapped them. I tested the bullet vibrator and its remote before returning to Greer. I didn’t give her a warning before sliding the cool shaft into her overheated pussy.
Her sharp inhale cut off when I pressed the button to start vibrations. I kept it at a low, steady thrum, giving her a few seconds to adjust before lifting the soft leather in my other hand to tease across her skin.
She tensed instantly, moving away from the sensation even as her body tried to shift her back into the vibrations. Her panic was interrupted by sharp pants. “What was that?”
“A flogger. Want to see?”
“No,” she said. “But yes.”
I took a few steps, holding the thick handle so she could see it and the dozens of leather strips that hung from it. It wasn’t a stiff, cheap implement with jagged edges and flimsy construction. It was intricate and carefully made with supple leather that would only cause the correct kind of pain.
“Is that going to hurt?” she asked.
“Yes.” Not as much as a cane or crop, but it would.
I waited to see if she had more questions or objections, but she didn’t.
She met my gaze as best as she could through the loose weave and waited.
Trusting me.
I returned to my spot near her waiting ass. “Ready?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
AND HOW LONG UNTIL IT ALL COMES CRUMBLING DOWN?
GREER
No.
No, I absolutely was not ready.
