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CHAPTER SIX
There he stands. Waiting for me in the shadow of his bedroom as I return. Handcuffs in one hand and belt in the other.
“Come here.” His tone is a threat, and I willingly go to him despite my nerves making my stomach flip. When I’m close enough, he pins me with a heated stare. “Lift your hands.”
I do, and he cuffs me, reminding me of the last time he did something like this. “These won’t make me bleed nearly to death, will they?”
“Not tonight.” Stepping behind me and grabbing my hip, his other hand pushes me face down on his bed and then lifts me until my ass is in the air.
My body flinches with wariness and excitement when he touches the cheek of my ass, fingers kneading my flesh that’s stinging from the received slap downstairs. “Why are you here? Bent over my bed right now?”
His hand crashes against my buttocks, and I gasp from the bite when I take too long to answer. “I-I—”
He smacks me again. This one is harder than the last. Squeezing my eyes shut, I gasp into his blanket, biting down, wondering why I’m enjoying this. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
“Because I pissed you off,” I blurt out, deciding to fuck it and go with it.
“And what did you do to piss me off?”
His hand massages my smarting ass, and I shudder. I’m not expecting his caress and can’t help but go still, conflicted about the man behind me and what he’s making me feel. This should feel humiliating. Abusive. But it’s not. It’s tantalizing. Hot. I want more. “I wore a really sexy dress to dinner. On purpose.”
“That fucking mouth of yours.” This time, he whacks my ass with his belt, and I yell out. Leaning over me, all I taste is leather as he shoves the strap into my mouth and uses the buckle to secure it around my head. Keeping hold of the long part, drool dribbles down my chin as he makes my neck arch back.
Pressing himself against my back, the heat off him burns my raw flesh. He breathes out hard. Painfilled.As if he’s on the edge of losing his damn mind. Maybe he already has.
His grip tightens, and the belt stretches the sides of my lips. They split, and the taste of blood oozes across my tongue. I rub against him, goading him to give in. Using the belt as a leash, he pulls me back until I have no choice but to bend, forcing my backside against his front, even harder to stand. Turning me to face him, his eyes drop to my lips—to the blood seeping into the corners of my mouth.
Leaning into me, he licks it away like he can’t help himself. Then his eyes close, and he sighs while grabbing the front of his pants where his bulge is.
“Fuck,” he swears, the cage on his cock probably gripping him. But I sense he likesit—the pain of it. Even the thought of him enjoying something deviant like that makes me ache all over.
God, I want to feel it. All that pain and pleasure he’s feeling.
Pulling me over to the side of his bed, his expression is stony, but his eyes are another story. “Lie down.”
I lie back against his bed. Letting go of the belt, he grabs my cuffed hands and puts them above my head.
“You’ll sleep here tonight,” he declares, leaving me naked on his bed. My nipples harden, pussy soaked with anticipation, throbbing unmercifully for him. Our eyes lock, and I instinctively pull against my handcuffs, knowing it won’t be long until my hands go blue from their tightness. This makes him chuckle. “Iwantyou uncomfortable. That’s the point.”
Pulling his shirt over his head, he throws it on the ottoman at the end of the bed. I’m not breathing as he undoes his pants. Incinerating from the inside out, he pulls his boxers down along with them.
My eyes eagerly drop to his shaft pulsating with veined anger inside the cage he has locked to him. Circling the bed, he lays down next to me, and it’s then I notice him holding something—a black vibrator.
Biting down on the belt still in my mouth, I shake my head.
“No?” he questions, tilting his head with evident amusement. He switches the vibrator on, and I inhale sharply when he touches the smooth tip against my inner thigh. It’s on low, but as he moves it upward, he increases the speed as it grazes my clit. My entire body shudders, and I moan behind the belt.
Using my arousal to lubricate it, he puts it back against my clit and swirls in agonizing, slow circles. My toes curl, and I arch my neck back even though the belt buckle stabs into the base of my skull. But then he takes it away again, and I almost yell at him with frustration, knowing there’s no way he’s letting me have anything close to an orgasm. This right here is torture at its finest.
“Open your legs.” I shake my head again, pressing them together instead. Fuck this game. I don’t want to play anymore. “Open them, Heidi.”
Whimpering, knowing there’s no real point in fighting him, I spread my legs. Slowly, he inserts the vibrator inside me before turning it on full speed.
My back lifts from the bed as my inner walls clench around it. He watches me with a power that slays me. Because right now, what he said was true. He does own me. Every broken, shattered piece. He knows it, and so do I. With that, I no longer feel the coldness of my past threatening to pull me under. It’s clarity. It’s grounding. We can’t go back now—not from this.
Needing friction, which he’s happily denying me, there’s a pleasure but no release. And without it, I know I’ll be nothing but ultimately tortured until it’s painful. Until tears leak from my eyes. Until I’d do anything, be anything he wants, for him to show me an ounce of mercy.
Those thoughts make me so wet that I can hear the evidence as Milton slips the vibrator in and out of my sex in a mind-numbing rhythm.
