Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 83171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Then I want you to.”
I narrow my gaze slightly. I don’t want to take her further than she’s truly ready to go. “Are you sure?”
“Braden,” she says, “let me be clear. I’m giving myself to you. I’m giving you the control you so desperately want. If you want to put a collar on me and lead me around on a leash like Sasha or Penny, do it. I’m yours.”
God, my cock is throbbing as I walk toward the bed. “For good this time? I get your control in this room?”
“Yes, Braden. I yield to you. I give up control.”
I groan, push her onto her back, lie on top of her, and dry-thrust my cock against her. “See how hard I am for you? See what you do to me? All these things I love to do, all these toys—I don’t even need them with you. All I need is your lush little body, your gorgeous parted lips, those luscious tits. Your control. But mostly I just need you, Skye. I can fuck you all damned night.”
She opens as I slide my lips against hers, push my tongue into her mouth. We’re still fully clothed, but I feel as though we’re already making love, our bodies already joined in that most intimate way. I deepen the kiss.
Emotion coils through me, beginning deep in my core and flashing outward.
I’m in love with her.
I’m in love with Skye.
How did this happen? How did she break through my barriers so quickly? So easily?
I break the kiss, gasp sharply, and give the chain between her breasts a hard yank. She arches her back. Then I grasp the fabric of her dress and rip it, tearing it from her body. So satisfying to rip the fabric, to bring her beautiful body into full view in such a powerful and animalistic way.
“Braden!”
“I already told you. I’ll have this dress remade as many times as it takes.”
Her nipples are red and hard from the nipple clamps that still grip them. Fuck, she’s hot. I could unclamp them, suck them, bite them…
But as much as I want to, I have other plans.
Only her black panties remain, and I’ll leave them on for now. A strip of black lace and nipple clamps—the only clothing she needs at the moment.
“Grip the rungs of the headboard, Skye,” I say, my voice low and dark.
I’m ready—so ready—to show her how I can please her in the dark. Not just the dark of night but the darker side of our sexuality and passion.
She doesn’t hesitate to obey. She grips the wood firmly.
“Don’t let go,” I command.
“I won’t.”
I rise, walk back to the highboy, choose a piece of rope, and return to the bed.
I show her the rope. “Nylon doesn’t cause rope burns.”
She nods as I deftly tie her wrists in place, using the notches on the rungs. She pulls against her restraints, most likely an involuntary move. Very common. But her pulling has no effect. She’s secure in my bindings.
I walk back to the highboy, grab a silk blindfold. When I return to the bed, I place the blindfold around Skye’s eyes.
“Do you remember the last time I took your sight?”
“Yes.”
“That was to heighten your other senses. But that’s not why I’m doing it this time.”
She doesn’t respond.
“This time, I’m taking it because I can. Because you’re giving it to me.”
“Yes.”
“You can’t move your arms. You can’t see. What else should I take from you?”
“Whatever you want, Braden.”
I yank the chain between her breasts once more. She arches into the sensation, her feet flat on the bed as her hips rise. She pulls against the restraints again, and this time it’s not voluntary.
She wants to touch me.
I allow my lips to curve into a smile I know she can’t see.
Oh, I want to touch her as well, but more than anything, I want her control. I want her to bend to my will.
We’ll both reap the rewards when she does.
I undress quickly and quietly, laying my tuxedo jacket and pants on a chair, my shoes and socks on the floor. My erection is ready and willing, and though I want more than anything to shove it into Skye’s pussy, I steel myself.
First, the riding crop.
I walk to the wardrobe to retrieve it.
Again, the leather is cool against my palm as I grasp the handle.
It is now an extension of my arm—of me—and what it feels, I will feel.
What it does to Skye, I will do to Skye.
I head to the bar in the corner of my bedroom, grab the ice tongs, and place a few cubes on a small plate.
Slowly, I return to the bed.
Skye lies, her wrists bound above her head, secured to the headboard with my nylon rope. Her gorgeous brown eyes covered. Her body supine and at my mercy.
And her lips.
Those gorgeous bloodred lips are parted just a bit—that look that captured me the first time I saw her.