Page 57 of Bared

To the point that she was bound, helpless, and nearly naked before him. And, if her dripping pussy and flushed face were any indication, reveling in the experience.

Fuck. Her skin. And her pussy.

He was riveted by both, even wondering if he’d rescued a princess who was actually a magical witch. If so, was she a good witch or a bad witch? Holy shit, he hoped for the latter. He wanted to do some very bad things to her…

“Oh!”

Starting with evoking that very cry from her.

She erupted with it again, as he thrust his third finger into her tight heat. Brick answered her sound with a low and primal groan while twisting deeper into her waiting cavern.

“Good. Fucking. God,” he grated. “You’re drenched, Pixie.”

“Yes.”

“Your cunt is already soaked for me.”

“Yes!”

He didn’t miss what the filthier words did to her. The new weight in her stare. The way her irises darkened like a fairy lagoon beneath a moonless sky. That was good. Damn good. Without moonlight, he could move better in the shadows of her mind.

“This really is what you were begging for, wasn’t it?” he murmured, suckling his way along the front of her neck. “A risk but a reward. Pain with permission.”

He had no idea where the words sprang from, but they felt so right—as much for himself as her. Jayd affirmed the same thing, underlining his sentences with her needy little whimpers. Her lust was music for him. Sustenance. A necessity he craved to move on. Feedback he’d never needed from any other subbie.

“You have that permission, Pixie. Feel it all. Let it all in. Let me in. Fuck, yes,” he praised as her inner walls softened, giving his fingers deeper penetration. “Damn it. So good, little one. Do you feel me inside you? Exploring your beautiful tunnel? I can’t stop touching you like this. Invading you like this. And you don’t want me to stop, do you? Tell me, Jayd.”

He issued the demand when she only vaguely shook her head. Holy shit, the woman was already slipping into subspace. He still needed her mind right here, with him. He wasn’t a wuss about accepting the gift of a woman’s virginity. He was cautious about taking it when her head wasn’t fully checked in too.

“Jayd,” he prompted, embossing the syllable with command. “Stay with me, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”

She dragged her gaze open and swung it fully at him. “More. Just…all of it. More. Please.”

He pressed a soft kiss to her slightly parted mouth. “More of what, Pixie?”

She licked her lips, clearly struggling for syllables. But focusing on them would keep her from flying off to the submissive stars before he could allow her to. “The pleasure. And the permission for it. And…”

“And what, sweetheart?” he urged.

“And the pain.”

Jesus. Fuck.

He was supposed to be the one granting her some lusty license, but her husky plea was a flip of his own damn tables. An approval stamp for him too.

“Ohhh!”

He allowed himself to enjoy the hell out of her lusty shriek. He craved another at once, so he repeated the ruthless drive of his fingers into her shuddering core.

“Ohhh…Brickham!”

Perfect.

So damn perfect that he already forgave her the etiquette slip. Every muscle along her channel worked to massage him more, aiding his steady pumps until the air vibrated with the erotic, rhythmic slicks.

“How’s that, Pixie?” he husked, lifting his head enough to watch her face. She was a fucking masterpiece. Her forehead was dewy with sweat. Her eyes were all the way shut, with her unearthly long lashes trembling along the formidable crests of her cheeks. But her lips were the most mesmerizing. Plush, red, and slightly parted. So damn tempting…

“Does it hurt, little one? Is this the pain you need?”