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As if that were even a question anymore.
“You, Master,” she whispered. She knew she should, but it was too hard to fight this. It felt so easy to just let go of all the darkness that had been drowning her for so long. She was still afraid he'd torture or kill her. Why wouldn't he?
Only a day ago, she'd sat with a knife on her lap, contemplating the grisly details of this man's murder, and now she washiscaptive instead. Somehow in this short time, she was calling him Master, as if this were some completely normal thing. As if every moment in her life both good and bad had been building to this.
She didn't want to let herself believe this man could be decent to her. What he was doing wasn't right but... it was hard to think she didn't deserve some sort of retribution for her actions. And was it even retribution when she was about to come out of her skin from the need to be touched by him? Her body didn't seem to register any of this as punishment.
The things she'd done were so wrong, and the way he'd treated her by comparison was far better than she should expect.
Claire tried to shove those thoughts away. The small unexpected ways he'd been kind to her, combined with the attraction she'd tried to suppress for too long were creating feelings and desires she didn't know what to do with.
She arched closer to him as he stroked the side of her hip and over the curve of her ass. Then he trailed fingertips from one ankle, up her leg... He didn't even get to the top of her thigh before he reached the evidence of her arousal sliding down to meet his welcoming fingers.
“Do you need to come, little one?”
She couldn't stop herself from giving him the truth. “Yes, Master,” she breathed, drawing one knee up, exposing herself further to him, her body begging him to give her the pleasure she'd been denied for far too long.
She let out a strangled gasp when he started to stroke between her legs. She hadn't quite believed he would really touch her there, that he would let her feel pleasure after all the pain she'd given him. She didn't care how wrong it was, she needed him inside her. She wanted him to bend her over and fuck her. She needed to forget everything in her life for just a little while. She needed the oblivion that she knew his touch could bring.
Claire moved with him as his fingers pressed deeper inside her. She'd never been this wet in her life. She'd thought she could go without sexual pleasure. She'd been so wrong about that.
Right now shehadto come. She didn't care if it was wrong. What difference would these dark fantasies make now? Would it really make anything worse if she surrendered her body to this man's touch?
“Please,” she whimpered. “please... please.”
He pressed one hand against her back. “Be still and let me touch you the way I want to touch you.” Ari held her in place while the fingers of his other hand played over her swollen sex as if she were his instrument and he knew exactly the song he wanted to play. Her hips bucked and rocked with him, her breath coming in heavy pants.
This was so fucking wrong. She was even more turned on by the way he held her down, demanding her complete surrender, insisting on controlling the exact position she laid, the exact angle at which his fingers brushed her sex, not letting her have even the smallest input in how she would get off.
His touch went from gentle teasing to a hard, punishing finger fuck. She was so far gone that the pleasure only mounted higher the more rough his touch became. There wasn't a way he could touch her in this moment that wouldn't result in her climax.
“Come,” he demanded. His voice had gone harder than she'd heard it since her capture. But instead of fear, that guttural command only made her body respond more.
Claire let go of the tenuous string of control she'd been holding and allowed the orgasm to crash over her. The intensity of the sensations he created caused tears to flow down her cheeks.
“Yes,” Ari growled. “Give it all to me. Fuck yourself on my fingers.”
She writhed and moaned, jerking against his fingers until she was wrung out. Until she couldn't come anymore. He finally pulled his hand away.
“Good girl.”
They stared at each other for a long time before he spoke again. “When was the last time, Claire?”
She didn't play dumb. She knew what he was asking. Nobody had an orgasm that hard that quickly and easily unless there had been a drought. That sort of frenzied desperation only came from long denial.
She looked away unable to meet his gaze. “Three years.”
“Three years since your last orgasm, even by yourself?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Did it happen when that psychopath had you?” Ari asked. There was something dark and jagged in his voice she couldn't define. His fingers dug hard into her hip as he gripped her. He didn't seem to realize he was doing it.
She shook her head.
“Are you lying to me, Claire?”
“N-no, Master.”
