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“Please, what?”
“Please, Sir.”
“Cheek to the wall, princess, palms flat at shoulder height,” he ordered as he released my neck, and I obeyed. His hand flattened between my shoulders, pushing me against the wood. My entire body thrummed with anticipation and memory of what he could do to me. Heat pooled between my thighs. God, I wanted this. “Not a sound. No one gets to hear you come but me.”
His hands ran over my sides and grabbed my hips. In one rough movement, he adjusted them and thrust against my ass. I moaned at the feel of his hard dick against me, unable to help myself.
His palm came down hard on my ass while he pushed me further into the wall.
“I said not a sound,” Killian growled. “Are you going to listen, or do you need a reminder of how this works?”
“No, Sir.” I bit my lip and nodded. If he wanted it, I’d do it.
“Good girl.” His hands rounded my hips and slid under the hem of my shirt. I silently thanked God for the skimpy top that gave him easy access to everything. He dragged his palms up my stomach and over my ribs, taking his time. My skin was on fire. It took everything I had to stay quiet, but I nearly lost it when his thumbs flicked over the curved barbells in my nipples. When he did it a second time, I buried my face in the wall and swallowed a moan. “Does my dirty little princess enjoy showing off for all the men out there? Dressed like a goddamn slut and showing off these perfect tits.”
His teeth sank into my shoulder as he gave my piercings a tiny tug. The deliciously painful sensation surged straight to my core. I pressed back against him, desperate for him to touch me. My pussy throbbed, and I needed more.
“There she is,” he murmured. His tongue ran up the side of my neck. His breath was hot on my ear as he whispered, “There’s my desperate little fuck toy. Tell me, princess, are your nipples the only thing you got pierced?”
I shook my head. He leaned back enough to crack his hand across my ass, and I bit back a yelp. God, I was so close to coming without him ever touching me.
“Use your words, or I’ll make it hurt more than you like,” Killian warned. And he would. He knew my threshold, and he knew how to push me right over it as punishment.
“No, Sir,” I said.
“Good girl, princess.” Oh, I missed those words. I missed hearing him whisper those words over and over every time I did what he asked. His hands ran a hot trail down my sides, and he tugged my ass snugly against him. I was practically vibrating as he undid the buttons on my pants and pushed them down.
I did my best to hold still despite how badly I wanted to move against him—to tempt him while his fingers teased the lace on my panties. Build-up and teasing were Killian’s thing. My attempts to make him go any faster would only make him slow down. Even with a bar full of people outside the door, nothing would make him go any faster. He’d leave me wanting rather than give me what I wanted if I tried.
“Fuck.” A deep growl ripped through him as the pads of his fingers trailed over the front of my panties. Thin lace did nothing to hide how wet I was. I inhaled sharply, struggling to contain myself, even as his other hand dug into my hip. “Don’t you fucking move. I don’t care how fucking greedy you are, princess. You’ll take only what I give you, do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” I let out. The brat in me whispered tempting encouragements to do otherwise. One little roll of my hips would have his fingers on my clit. I wanted that. I needed it. The tension and pressure inside me was agonizing.
He slid my panties to the side, and his fingers hovered—not touching but almost. I bit down harder on my lip. This was torture. He was right there and testing my resolve to obey.
“Does this drive you crazy, princess?” Killian demanded. His teeth tugged on my ear.
“Yes.”
“Did you forget your training, princess? If I ask you one more time to respond to my question properly, I’m done,” he told me. A threat he’d follow through with. And no amount of masturbating would give me the kind of relief he could. “Does this drive you crazy?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good,” he snarled. “It doesn’t come close to how fucking crazy it makes me to watch my submissive dance around and flirt with other men. That’s my collar, princess. Did you forget that?”
“No, Sir,” I said.
“And who do you belong to when you’re wearing it?”
“You, Sir.” But he was wrong. Taking off the collar didn’t change that—a fact I was painfully aware of. Removing the collar would never change that.
“That’s right,” Killian replied. “You’re mine, Genevieve. You’re my little fuck toy, you’re my submissive, and you’re my wife. Every one of your orgasms belongs to me, do you understand? You ask me to come. Don’t you fucking come unless I permit you, do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” I practically whined. The relief was damn near instant as the pads of two fingers rolled over my clit. My orgasm surged, and I sank my teeth so hard into my lip I almost drew blood. I’d always been a touch-sensitive person. Once I was comfortable with the idea, it became very easy for me to come, but my VCH brought it to a whole new level.
“Jesus fuck, you pierced your clit.” Pain and pleasure deliciously collided as he gave the curved barbell a slight tug. My stomach contracted and my thighs shook as I desperately tried to contain it.
“Please, let me come, Sir,” I begged breathlessly. I couldn’t hold on much longer.
