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He rubbed my clit, taking me to the edge before easing off again.
“Sebastián!” His name was a ragged sob.
He pressed a tender kiss to my nape. “I do like when you cry my name, Isabel.”
Frustration needled my pleasure. “Just let me come!”
His hand left my sex, and I cried out at the loss. His grip shifted from my wrists to my waist, and I was weightless for a moment before my back hit the mattress. I lay sprawled on my bed, staring up at him in shock at the sudden shift in position. He loomed over me, his features sharp with hunger. He pulled off my high heels and tugged my underwear all the way down my legs, tossing them aside.
“Close your eyes.”
The command was low and deep, and I obeyed without thought. My body still burned for his touch, and I’d do anything to get him to hold me again.
His fists tangled in my ruined dress, and cool air smacked my heated flesh when he tore it from navel to neckline, parting the fabric to leave me fully exposed. Struck by sudden, shocking vulnerability, I clutched at the remnants of the silk and tried to draw it over my nakedness.
He grabbed my wrists and directed them over my head, until my fingers met familiar polished wood.
“Hold on to the bedpost,” he ordered. “And keep your eyes closed. Don’t test me again, Isabel.”
He wasn’t only warning me about grasping for my dress; this was about how I’d pushed him at the party, how I’d tried to drink the Champagne even after he’d told me to stop.
Defiance tightened my muscles, but before I could make a move against him, he pinched my nipples hard. I cried out and arched my back, struggling to alleviate the sting. I didn’t even consider releasing the bedpost to push him away. I didn’t think about opening my eyes to plead with him. All I could think about was the sizzling lines of pleasure that connected my aching nipples to my pulsing clit.
Just when I thought I couldn’t bear the pinch anymore, he released the tight buds, rubbing the sting away with his calloused thumbs. I arched into him again, seeking more. I whined when one hand left my breast, but it quickly turned into a moan when his fingers trailed down my abdomen, tracing a hot path down to my needy sex.
I lifted my hips in wanton invitation, silently begging. With my eyes closed, my other senses were heightened, and I was almost unbearably stimulated. His scent intoxicated me, and every gentle touch made my nerves crackle and dance beneath his fingers. It was too much. And it wasn’t enough. I didn’t know if I wanted to push him away or pull him closer.
But he’d commanded me to keep my hands above my head. I didn’t dare defy him, or he might stop. He might leave me a needy, quaking mess, and I knew that I’d never be capable of attaining this high on my own. I’d touched myself before, but I’d never experienced anything close to this erotic torment.
My grip on the bedpost tightened, my fingernails biting into the polished wood.
My entire body shook with need, my thighs quivering. Pleasure coiled inside me, punishing me with keen arousal.
This was a punishment. He’d promised me that pleasure could be pain, and I understood. Tears wet my lashes as he slowly circled my clit and rubbed his thumb over my tight nipple, touching me but not giving me what I craved.
“Please,” I begged tremulously. “Please, Sebastián.” I rotated my hips in a desperate attempt to place his teasing fingers where I wanted them most.
Stinging pain lashed my tender inner thigh when he slapped me hard in reprimand. I stilled on a moan, the heat of his punishment thrumming deep in my core.
He released a low hum of masculine satisfaction. It rolled over my skin, drawing a shudder from my chest.
He traced the line of my slit, slowly exploring my soft folds.
“I like having you this way,” he rumbled, his voice rough with his own suppressed lust. “So wet and begging me for pleasure.” He gripped my sex in one big hand, pressing his palm down on my clit. “You won’t test me again after tonight, nenita. Only I can give you this. Only me. You’re mine.”
My belly fluttered with a shadow of fear at his possessive words, a reminder that I was trapped in an unwanted marriage to a brute of a man.
Then his palm rotated against my clit, and all thought was obliterated by a rush of ecstasy. His fingers teased my folds, careful not to break my virgin barrier. My inner muscles contracted, craving to be filled. He pinched my nipple, tugging until the sharp bite of pain forced my back to arch. White-hot bliss crashed over me, consuming me. He rubbed me through my orgasm, prolonging the waves of pleasure that rippled through my body. I tensed and shook with the force of my release, ecstatic and almost painful in its intensity. Surely, I would come apart completely. No one could experience such bright bliss without unravelling.
