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“I don’t know,” I cry.
“Do you think those other women are more beautiful than you?”
“Yes!”
Hot wax lands against my belly this time, feeling even more sensitive.
“You’re wrong, Charlotte.”
My blindfold is wet. God, I hope he can’t tell I’m crying.
“Say it. Tell me you’re worth it.”
A sob breaks through, and I use my bound hands to cover my face. Emerson pulls them away and puts his lips against mine.
“Why can’t you just say it, Charlotte? Why can’t you just admit how wonderful you are?”
“Because I’m not,” I sob. “I just mess everything up. I don’t deserve you. You think I’m so great now, but you’ll realize eventually that I’m not good enough, and you’ll leave me. Like everyone does.”
I’ve ruined everything. I’m sobbing, and it’s humiliating, and I’m sure he’s really done with me now. The room falls silent, and I’m shaking. A moment later, my blindfold is yanked off of my face, and I try to turn my tear-soaked face away. I’m sure I have makeup dripping down my cheeks.
“Jesus, Charlotte.”
He takes my face in his hands and holds me close. “Look at me,” he barks.
I swallow down the nails in my throat and turn my gaze toward him. “You’re wrong,” he says with conviction, locking eyes with me.
When I try to shake my head, he stops me. “Say it. Say you’re wrong.”
“I’m wrong,” I whisper.
“Louder,” he bellows.
“I’m wrong.
“Louder!”
“I’m wrong!” I cry out, tears trailing down the sides of my face and landing in my hair.
When he kisses me, the dam breaks, a feeling of euphoria washing over me. Reaching down, he releases the straps around my legs one at a time, and I quickly wrap them around him.
“You’re mine,” he growls against the skin of my neck, and I lift my bound arms and wrap them around his head. “Forget everyone before me, Charlotte. Just focus on me. I would have paid a million dollars for this hour with you. Do you hear me?”
“Yes,” I gasp.
His fingers find the nipple clamps, releasing them, and it’s almost as painful as when he put them on. When his lips close around the right one, sucking on the pain, I thrust my hips upward. They are super sensitive now, making my entire body sing as he caresses them with his tongue.
“Please fuck me, Emerson,” I beg. I need to know he still wants me after I just made a complete fool of myself.
He doesn’t hesitate, shoving my hips down against the bed and driving his cock between my legs. Thrusting hard, he holds me tightly in his arms. “Fuck, look what you do to me, Charlotte. You drive me crazy.”
I can’t get enough of him. My legs lock around his waist, and I pull his mouth to mine for another kiss. With Emerson, I don’t feel so inferior. Somehow, this perfect, amazing man makes me feel worthy, and my heart explodes in my chest every time I think about it.
“I’m addicted to you,” he groans while fucking me. “You were made for me, Charlotte. You’re mine, and I never want to let you go. Do you understand me? I’d fuck you forever if I could.”
My body cries out as he pounds harder and harder, the sensation of what he’s doing to my body mingled with the words he’s using to break my heart.
“I wish you could,” I cry. Looking up into his eyes, I whisper, “I was made for you.” The expression on his face seems momentarily surprised by my admission.
