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Oh geez, oh God, oh geez, oh God.
Rapture so intense it feels like a punch in the gut erupts through me. My body heaves, banging against the cross. He shoves his fingers into me a few more times, before withdrawing and turning down the vibrations.
I gasp for breath. I throb everywhere. Moisture rains down my legs.
After a minute, Darren uncuffs my ankles and wrists. He sweeps me into his arms and carries me to the sofa. Sitting down, he holds me in silence till I’m done quivering.
“How was it?” he asks.
“…Wow,” I manage. “But I don’t think I want my nipples touched for at least a week.”
“Like this?” he teases, lightly pinching one.
I cry out and whack him on the chest. But he tweaks my other nipple. I yelp, then hit him again.
“Stop!” I cry.
“These are my nipples. I get to do with them whatever I want,” he responds.
He tries to reach for the first nipple again. I decide I’d better just flee. But when I try to wiggle away, he slams me down on the sofa and covers me with his body. Our gazes lock. I want him to kiss me so badly, but he doesn’t. Probably because of the darn stitches.
“You belong to me, Bridge. Every part of you belongs to me.”
He’s got to be joking, but he sounds undeniably serious. And he’s staring at me like I shouldn’t dare contradict him.
I don’t say anything. But if I were to, it would just be to confirm that what he said is absolutely true.
