“Cumfor methen, baby.”
That’s all it takes. That voice. That man.
My Grayson.
I shatter.
My thighs tremble as I fall apart, gasping, panting, broken open around his fingers as the vibrator hums a song on my clit.
Heavenly.
But he doesn’t let me breathe.
The vibrator grinds harder, unrelenting against my oversensitive spot. I twist in agony, trying to escape the pleasure that now feels like torture.
“Stop! Please!” I cry out, thrashing in the cuffs.
He laughs, low and sinful.
“Almost got her squealing,” he taunts, jamming it harder against my clit, smacking me ass every time I try to escape the toy’s touch.
I groan, a guttural, painful moan as my body is forced to give again and again.
As I pant heavily, he rolls me onto my back and lowers himself between my legs like a man admiring his favorite meal.
His hand grazes over the raw, waxed skin, but gentle now.
“You know why I did this?” he murmurs, dragging his lips down the crease, dipping in his tongue for just a moment.
I shake my head, and tilt my hips, wanting more.
But he simply rises enough so his cock slides forward, not quite entering, just gliding between my lips, teasing, smearing wetness across flushed, aching skin. I shudder beneath him.
More than six months. That’s how long I’ve been starving.
For him.
My hips lift, my body desperate to feel him inside again no matter the cost. But instead of giving me what I need...
He grabsblack duct tape.
I flinch as he tears off a strip.
Then, I watch mortified yet fascinated as he seals it over my pussy. From clit to entrance.
Tight.
He presses down, smoothing it like he’s wrapping a gift.
“I’m going to own every part of your body,” he growls. “But the one place you want most?”
He leans in, the mask inches away. “That stays mine until I say otherwise.”
He strokes over the shiny tape’s surface to my aching entrance. He presses his thumb against the tape, teasing me into a state of madness.
I choke back a moan, clenching, writhing for what I can’t have.
Humiliated. Desperate. And...
