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“Eyes on me,” he demands, “show me what it is youthinkyou like.”
His grip squeezes on my chin and I open my eyes, immediately met with his staring back at me. The hazel of his eyes looks nearly golden, like there is actually fire burning in them as they slowly scan up and down my body.
“It’s not enough,” his hand slides from my chin to my throat, “is itpiccola pesca.”
His fingers tighten, squeezing my throat and restricting my ability to breathe.
“Your body now knows how good pain makes your pleasure feel. And it needs it,” his grip tightens more, “I can feel your heart beating faster at just the thought of it.”
Maintaining eye contact with him, I plunge two fingers deep inside of me. Curling them, I stroke against that spot that normally does me in.
Fuck. He’s fucking right.
“You know I’m right,” he whispers releasing my throat.
Panting, the need to come is painful, but I cannot get there.
“You like how good the pain feels,” his hand strokes down my chest.
His finger flicks my tight nipple, and I let out a whimper as the sensation shoots straight to my clit.
“You fucking need it,” he flicks me again, “Give yourself what you need.”
Using my free hand, I roll my nipple between my fingers.
“Harder,” Renzo commands.
I cannot help but follow his demand. Squeezing my nipple hard, I tug on it while continuing to pump my fingers inside of me.
Staring into his eyes, I pull harder and ride my hand. I can feel the orgasm building in my core, readying to explode.
“Enough,” his voice harsh.
So close to the edge, I ignore him and continue working towards my release.
“Enough, Ava,” his words quickly growing angry and impatient, “I said stop.”
I groan, my climax so close.
“Fuck,” I scream, fumbling for the water knob, as I am suddenly showered with icy cold water.
“I told you,” his voice smug, “you belong to me, and I determine when you come.”
“Fucking asshole.”
“There is a dress on the bed for you. We will not be alone tonight, and your shorts are not appropriate for dinner.”
Other people really do live here?
“Punishment comes in many forms,” he calls back as he walks from the bathroom, “I expect you downstairs promptly at seven.”
Fuck that is cruel.
Every man I have ever been with, until Renzo, has left me unsatisfied. But they have all been bumbling boys with no clue what they were doing. None of them have brought me to edge and yanked me back from the cliff like this.
It has been nearly two weeks since he chained me to his bed and whipped me with the crop. His touch in the shower is the most physically intimate he has attempted to be with me since then. There have been touches - grazes - and wandering eyes. But not once has he tried to really touch me.
My body is so fucking needy, and I want what only he can give me.
