Page 7 of Moody Bastard


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“A little.”

“It’s either a yes, or a no, there’s nothing little about a man’s tongue in your mouth.”

“One man has tried to put it in but I kept my lips shut.”

“Have you been fondled?”

“How so?”

“Has a man held your breasts in his hands? Caressed your nipples?”

Her stomach tightened, and she shook her head.

“Has a man cupped your pussy with his hands? Or caressed your sex with his fingers?”

Her sex clenched tighter. “No,” she said, just a breath. She cleared her throat and repeated, “No.”

“So you don’t know anything,” he stated.

Her pride instantly smarted. “I read and I watch TV. I know everything, Damien. I just haven’t experienced it.”

“You watch porn?”

“I…” A heat crawled up her cheeks, and she shook her head.

“So you don’t know anything,” he repeated, more forcibly this time.

She covered her face with a groan. “Yes. I mean, no. I don’t know. All right, do you want the whole truth?”

He was silent. Waiting.

“I can’t even orgasm by myself, I don’t know what is wrong with me. I’ve only orgasmed like twice this year.”

Thank God he didn’t laugh. Instead he leaned back, crossed his powerful arms, and studied her. “Do you have fantasies?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I want to know the extent of your imagination. What are your fantasies?”

She unclipped her hair, and let it tumble down, sighing as she rubbed the place where the clip had started to bother her. “I fantasize of being…being taken by a man from behind, without being asked permission only being…”

“Penetrated.”

The heat escalated in her body, spreading in her chest. She nodded.

“Is that your only fantasy? Of being penetrated from behind, without permission?”

“I fantasize of being bound.”

From his pocket, he pulled out the bind he’d just worn, his sleek black eyebrows rising high. He wasn’t smiling now. “Do you want to know what it feels like?”

Her pulse flew out of orbit. “B-but how can that help me with Court?”

“You need to know what you want before you can give anyone else what they want.”

Bound. Being bound. By Damien. “Uh, this is getting a bit too exciting for me.”

He threw his head back and laughed. The sound was deliciously surreal. Dangerous. “You paid a hundred thousand dollars to have me sit here answering your questions? Or do you want something a little more educative?” he asked.

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