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Mouth dry, she continued to the bedroom. No matter how hard she tried to keep her focus, her gaze continued to stray to the metal spikes.
Downstairs, Rafe turned on classical music, soothing and seductive. But it also disguised what he was doing and would make it impossible for her to discern his footfall on the stairs. A sense of urgency drove her onward.
She laid the gloves on the nightstand, the spikes facing one another so she didn’t have to see them. Then she placed the butterfly. Surely its fluttering couldn’t be as bad as she remembered. But since she was so aroused, the barest brush of the silicone against her clit made her jerk.
Making her way into the middle of the bed, she dropped the remote control near her hand before picking up the blindfold. The soft black satin was lined with a thin strip of something pliable that snugged her face, making it impossible to peek.
Hope slid the lever on the remote control. The vibrator leaped to life, making her yelp. She frantically fought to turn it to pulse, and when the pressure let off, she heaved a sigh.
Once she’d settled down, she moved her body into the position he’d ordered. That made the vibrator move a bit, and it was more irritating now. Not knowing how much time she had or whether he was inside the room watching her, she forced herself to endure the sensual assault he’d dreamed up.
The thing pulsed, enough to get her attention. Then it faded away. It stayed off long enough for her mind to drift. Then it gave another quick jolt.
Hope moved her hips, seeking more, wanting it to last longer. Her legs ached from the fight to keep them apart rather than draw them together in an attempt to find some relief for the sensations crashing through her.
Her earlier guess had been wrong. The butterfly wasn’t as bad as she remembered. It was worse.
She had no idea how long he left her in position, but as the minutes passed, she started to twitch, then gyrate her hips, lifting them, trying to satiate herself every bit as much as she was trying to escape. The music faded, and the darkness of the blindfold was her companion. Nothing existed but her and the damnable sex toy.
Hope whimpered. There was no way this thing had the power to create such a harsh reaction in her. It was the most awful thing she’d ever endured.
“Beautiful.”
At the sound of Rafe’s voice, she froze. It sounded as if he stood at the foot of the bed, where he would have a view of her exposed, raised pussy. She should have been aware of a shift in the room when he entered, should have known from his scent that he was there. The haunting music, coupled with the fact that she couldn’t see, left her trapped in a world where nothing existed but the next dreaded pulse against her pussy.
Rafe was driving her mad.
The thing vibrated again, and she cried out.
“Awful, isn’t it?”
Imagining how she must look to him, she lowered her buttocks to the mattress, then writhed when the butterfly pulsed once more.
“Would you like it faster?” he asked. “Like a hum? Or at full speed?”
“No! Please, Rafe. No.”
“You’ve done an excellent job of keeping yourself in position. Thank you. Since the next part will be much more difficult, I’m going to tie you so that you remain still.”
He removed her blindfold. “I want to see you suffer.”
A chill—fear, dread, desire—lanced her. She flashed back to that first day in his office. “Her tears are like dripping nectar from the gods.” Hope had talked to other submissives about sadism. There were various interpretations of the word. Rafe wasn’t a strict sadist, in that he didn’t seek to hurt her, but there was no doubt that he experienced joy when she was like this, overwrought with need.
“You have a safe word that I will always honor.”
She nodded.
“And a slow word. You remember them both?”
Her mouth dried, leaving her unable to speak, so she nodded.
Rafe’s eyes were a softer shade of blue than she’d ever seen, and he’d cloaked himself fully in his role as a Dominant. With his words and expressions, he didn’t ask for her trust—he guaranteed it.
He notched the slider bar up a fraction, giving her more frequent pulses but with no more intensity.
“Ankles first,” he said.
