I try to wriggle away, but all it does is cause him to slide his hands behind my knees and forcefully push them back to my ears.
I squeeze my eyes shut again, another traitorous tear slipping free as I thrash against my bonds, desperate to slip free. In this position, I’m far more exposed and vulnerable to him.
But just as it always does, the thrill of danger sends an uncomfortable feeling straight to my core.
He has my body curled so far inward, my ass is no longer on the bed. As if I wasn’t already ashamed enough, I feel my arousal sliding down my stomach.
He growls, noting the desire flooding from my entrance. I can feel his body tightening with need, power rippling through his body.
He doesn’t waste any more time bringing his mouth back to my pussy and sucking my clit back into his mouth.
I jerk, the pleasure renewed as he tugs and sucks at the bud. He doesn’t lick me again, refusing to use his tongue against me—only his teeth.
Every time I move, he clamps harder. So I force myself to stiffen, but the pressure doesn’t lessen. If anything, it only heightens until sharp pain is sluicing from my clit.
I squeal from the sting, screaming muffled curses at him through the tape. And just when it becomes too much, he lets go. I pant through the relief and the lingering pain, my clit throbbing and sore.
But he doesn’t allow me to suffer for long. His middle finger slides inside of me, curling to hit that sweet spot. My hips buck against his hand, a different type of pleasure swelling inside of me.
A bliss that stings and burns but yet, feels fucking incredible.
“Did that hurt?” he asks softly, tilting his head as he watches his finger slide in and out of me, juices collecting in the palm of his hand.
Now that one of my legs is free, I’m tempted to drive my foot into his face. But the reminder of that bite keeps my leg still.
So I just fume silently, glaring holes into him. The anger feels like it’s burning me from the inside out.
He hums, disappointed by my silence. Leaning down, he captures the abused nub between his teeth, sucking in but keeping his bite minimal. Combined with his finger curling up to hit that spot, I can no longer breathe.
Gently, he scrapes his teeth over the sensitive flesh. Over and over until it drives me mad with both the need for more and the need to kill him. Maybe I can cut his hands off like he did Arch. Knock his teeth out so he can’t turn my body against me anymore.
“Remember this, little mouse,” he murmurs in between nips. “Remember that your disobedience brings you pain.” Another sharp nip. My hips jerk away, but the action is futile. “I know you remember how good it felt when my gun was fucking your pussy. Imagine my tongue inside of you—my cock. The pleasure you’d feel would be blinding.”
His finger curls and proves his words true, sending that blinding pleasure racing throughout my body.
I feel the break. The moment when my body decides it needs what he’s giving me more than the need for him to stop.
I fight against the dark part of me that wants to beg for more. A dark part that has found a voice and is trying to break free. Take over and give in to this man so we both can find relief. I thrash against it, entering a silent battlefield and trying to choke the life out of it so it never comes to light.
But then he withdraws his finger to the very tip, swiping his finger along my entrance, and when he sinks back inside me, he adds two more fingers. My eyes roll as he stretches me, caressing that sweet spot over and over while his teeth bite into my clit anew.
The dark side of me wins while I watch helplessly as my body renews its struggle. But this time, I’m shamefully grinding myself against him. He’s not giving me what my body has begun to crave—to need—in order to assuage the pleasure building deep in my belly.
He continues to scour my clit with his teeth. Nipping and biting, but refusing to give me his tongue.
Frustration mounts until I’m brimming with it. I’m so, so angry, but now it’s because he’s denying me pleasure.
“Asshole!” I screech against the tape. The answering smile against my pussy is evident that he heard me.
Giving into the anger, I kick my leg out with unrestrained force. He dodges the kick by a mere inch.
A feral growl tears from his chest, and he pushes my knee back down with bruising force. The sound wasn’t of desire like before—but anger.
Even if I were forced in front of a priest tomorrow, no fear of God would convince me to confess how fucking sexy that growl was. Or how hard my pussy pulsed in response.
I’ll never confess that—not even to myself.