His fingers squeeze my thighs almost to the point of pain, but internally, I beg him not to stop.
“Candice,” he breathes.
He doesn’t need to tell me. I can feel that heat building in his extremities. I should be embarrassed at how intense this moment has gotten, but I can’t seem to think past the molten hot sensation in my belly. At how he feels when I press harder against him.
“What do you want with me, Jarron,” I ask. “After all,I’m yours,” I mock. Even though we both know it’s true.
“No, sunshine. I’myours. Completely. Eternally.”
I lick my lips and then set my chin on his shoulder and allow those words to settle into my very soul. I can feel their truth. The power behind the sentiment.
He is mine.
“I am yours to devour,” he says. “Yours to pleasure. Yours to harm. Yours to abandon or adore or use, in any way you want.”
“Use you?” I rock against him, building my own friction. “Like this?”
He tenses and then releases a breath through his teeth. “Use me, baby. Any way you want.”
I do it again, this time entirely for me.
His head rolls back, exposing his neck to me. Without missing a beat, I clench my teeth over his pulse and drag them down.
This nearly does him in. The fire in his body ignites, sending waves of pleasure through our magical link. He groans.
“Fuck,” he says, barely hanging on to his control. “You’re going to make me come right here, sunshine.”
“Mmm,” I say against his neck. “What if that’s what I want?”
His hands rise high on my thighs, slipping under the hem of my shorts. “Then, say the word and roll those hips one more fucking time.”
I can barely breathe for the effect those words have on me. I almost do it. Almost allow my base needs to take over and steal that pleasure that’s brewing right beneath the surface.
“I have another idea,” I say breathlessly, and I swing off of him and move to the bottom of the bed. His eyes remain entirely black as he sits up to watch me intently. I hook a finger and motion for him to come to me. Once he’s standing right in front of me, I point up to what’s dangling over our heads like mistletoe.
He quirks a brow casually, but I can feel the jolt of excitement that shoots through him.
I take three steps back and wait for him to do what we both know I’m waiting for. As he turns, readying the cuffs, I blurt out, “Wait!”
He turns to me slowly. Every muscle is incredibly tense. The veins on his forearms and hands somehow make them even sexier.
Because the words are a tad embarrassing, I instead experiment with sending an image through our new shallow bond. He huffs out a chuckle and then obeys my wish, pulling off his shirt before locking his wrists in the handcuffs.
I can’t help the massive grin that spreads across my face, and I allow myself to take in the sight. My powerful demon, submitting to me. I lick my lips and think about all the things I’ve wished I’d done with him that first time I had him like this. In the weeks after, when I thought I’d never have him in the same way, when I thought there would always be this heavy weight between us, thinking that had been my one perfect moment with him.
I still want those things, but I have something else in mind for now.
But knowing that he can read my thoughts if I let him, I play through a couple of my favorite fantasies, step by intricate step. He groans deep in his chest at the imagery I send him.
I love that I can cause this sweet form of torment with just a thought. And now, before he’s had a chance to fully see me, touch me, taste me, is when I’ll be able to get the best reaction. When he’ll be most desperate to get out of those handcuffs.
I love the power this gives me. I want to wring out every ounce of delicious agony I can from this moment.
“You’re fucking torture, Candice,” he breathes. “In the best possible way.”
I grin. “That’s not all I have in mind, love.”
“Mmm,” he says. “Say that again.”
