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I shivered, excitement racing through me. “Why?”
“Because I told you to. Now be a good girl and do as I said.”
Oh holy… My breath caught in my throat. A rush of intensity flooded me—desire, longing, surprise. In any other context, I would’ve hated being called a “good girl.” But hearing those two words from Tristan was like flipping a switch. And I wanted to do nothing more than please him so he’d continue to praise me.
I crawled onto the bed and faced him. The material barely covered my thighs, and he swallowed thickly as he drank me in.
“Look at you.” He shook his head as if in disbelief.
I liked the way he was looking at me. I liked the way he gripped the arms of the chair, as if he were about to lose control. And I wanted to see him unravel. Drive him as crazy as he made me.
“How do you like to touch yourself?” he asked, his gaze intense. “I want to see.” It was as if he were studying me so he could learn the secrets of what turned me on. And that made me even hotter.
I reached between my legs, rubbing myself over my thong. The material was so wet it was sticking to me, my need at an all-time high.
And even though he wasn’t actually touching me, it was as if there were an invisible thread connecting us. I always felt that pull to him, but even more so now. I peeled my panties aside, needing more pressure. Moresomething.
He pressed down on his cock then froze. “Is that a piercing?”
I bit my lip and nodded, my hair falling around my face.
“Show me,” he said through gritted teeth.
I lifted my hips to remove my panties, but he shook his head. “No. Keep them on.”
I frowned but quickly masked my disappointment. Instead, I did as he asked and pulled my panties aside. I’d continue doing whatever he asked so long as I got more of this,him.
I used my fingers to spread my folds, giving him a clear view of my vertical clit hood piercing. For a minute, I feared he hated it, but then he groaned, “Sofuckinghot.”
His words spurred me on, and I started rubbing myself again. This time harder, faster. I moaned as the pleasure built once more. And I was getting so close. I was on the verge of coming when he said, “Stand.”
“Wh-what?” I was breathless. “Now?”
“Yes, now,” he commanded.
I liked seeing Tristan’s confidence and strength as he took charge in the bedroom. It was hot. At least when he wasn’t withholding my orgasm.
I shook my head. I didn’t stop. Couldn’t.
“Elle,” he cautioned. “Stand.”
He might be the one issuing the commands, but I knew I could say no at any time. I knew if I told him I wanted to stop, we would. And even though I was tempted to defy him again, I was more curious to discover what he had planned.
So, I forced myself to do as he said. I stood and wobbled on my feet, nearly collapsing to the floor.
He patted his lap. Did he want me to…?
“Come.”
Oh god, yes.
I squeezed my thighs together. I was most definitely going to come. Just from the scene he’d painted alone. The image of him… I swallowed hard and willed my feet to move. Nerves and anticipation flooded my bloodstream, and I was dying to see what he’d do next.
He parted his legs, sliding his hands down his quads, fingers spread wide. He inhaled a shaky breath and let it out slowly.
“On your stomach.” He patted his thigh.
I tilted my head. “Wh-what?”
