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“I’m not done.”
He rummages through the drawer and brings out a ball gag and a blindfold. I swallow, then pretend the notion of losing all my senses doesn’t scare the shit out of me.
“Do you want me to stop here, pat you on the back, and let you go?” He asks in the same mocking tone he usually uses to
ask if I’m a coward. He’s saying it without the words.
“I’m not a quitter,” I say.
A smile curves his lips as he wraps the gag around my mouth and straps it behind my head, which he lets fall to the pillow. Almost instantly, drool forms over the rubber no matter how much I try to swallow.
Cole’s sadistic smile is the last thing I see before he secures the blindfold over my eyes, plunging my world into darkness.
Losing my sight makes me super aware of everything else. Like the feel of the soft sheets beneath me, Cole’s cinnamon and lime scent, the goosebumps he leaves behind as he glides his finger down my cheek.
“You fucked up, Silver.” His sinister voice fills the silence of the air like doom. “You shouldn’t have given me this power over you.”
“Mmmm,” I mumble, but the gag stops me from forming any words.
He traces my upper lip. “Do you know how much I’ve fantasised about having you completely at my mercy?”
Cole fantasised about me?
Oh, God. Why does that sound more wrong than the current situation?
And why do I want to look at his face as he says it?
His fingers wrap around my throat and he squeezes. It’s not suffocating and nowhere near as hard as when he fucked me against the shower wall, but a full-body shudder grips me and zaps straight between my legs. It could be the helplessness, or the fact that I can’t stop him if he does squeeze too tight.
“I can’t fuck you, but I can play with you.” His hand leaves my neck and his entire presence vanishes.
The loss registers in my chest before I can control my reaction.
Where is he? Did he leave?
What seems like hours — but could be only minutes — pass as I try to control my drooling and count the pulses in my ears.
God, why do I feel so hyperaware of everything?
“Cole…” I mumble his name around the ball gag. It comes out unintelligible.
Where is he? He put me in this situation, the least he can do is alleviate the intensity.
I feel like I’m going to explode. I’ve never been so helpless in my life, and the fact that Cole is the one who’s witnessing it causes small bursts of adrenaline to rush through me.
Then, suddenly, his fingers grip my thighs and I try to clench them closed, but my position and the ropes keep me from making much of a difference.
Cole lifts my dress to my waist, baring my thighs to the cool air. “Stay still, Butterfly. You’ll only bruise that beautiful, porcelain skin.”
Beautiful.
He thinks my skin is beautiful.
Ugh, brain, seriously? His hand is sneaking up my thigh and all I can think about is that?
He cups me through my underwear and I groan. It’s like I’ve been on fire and he’s finally dousing it.
“Fuck, you’re soaked.” He slides my underwear as far as they’ll go down my legs, and before I can focus on the brush of his fingers against the inside of my thighs, his hands are gone.
