Chapter 12 #2
I want to know what it means.
His hands release the gag. I gasp in a breath.
“Tell me you don’t want this as much as I do. Tell me exactly what you want. What you fantasize about. Tell me, or I’ll fill in the gaps on my own, and I don’t know if you want me to do that.”
“First, tell me what you just said,” I breathe out.
“You’re so beautiful, it’s as if angels created you.”
My mouth is dry. “This is… this is a good start,” I manage to eke out.
“Good.” He hooks his thumbs into my leggings, dragging them down just enough to leave me exposed to his touch. His fingers brush against the bare skin of my hip, and I arch involuntarily, desperate for more. Blindfolded, my other senses are heightened.
“Patience,” he chides, his grip tightening before his palm cups my ass. “I’ll give you what you want when I’m ready. Not before.”
I bite my lip to stifle the groan that rises in my throat. The combination of his dominance and the anticipation is maddening. I’ve never felt this out of control, this raw, this… alive.
He spins me suddenly, pressing me back against the wall. My bound hands press into the cool surface, the blindfold still firmly in place. His hands frame my face, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip.
"Say it," he demands, his voice dark and full of promise. “Tell me what you want.”
I hesitate, the words catching in my throat. His grip on my jaw tightens just slightly, his lips a breath away from mine.
"Say it, Ember," he repeats on a growl.
“I want you to… do things to me.” My cheeks flame at his low, dark chuckle. It feels like the most dangerous truth I’ve ever spoken.
“Not good enough. You post every day about your book fantasies? Own this, woman.”
Oh my god I love that. My cheeks flush as I say it in a rush of words. “I want you to ruin me.”
His smirk deepens, his grip tightening but not cruel. “Better,” he whispers, his voice a dark promise. “But that’s not enough. Tell me how.”
I shiver under his intensity, my cheeks flaming. “I want you to take control.” I hold his gaze. “Make me forget everything but… you.”
"Good girl," he says again, his voice low and satisfied. Then his mouth crashes into mine, and I’m lost in the storm of him—his dominance, his obsession, his raw, unrelenting need, before the gag slides into place too soon.
I’m gasping, panting; my body’s on fire.
This isn’t just a fantasy anymore. It’s real.
And I’ve never wanted anything more.
His mouth to my ear, he whispers, “Spread your legs for me.” His harsh tone leaves no room for argument.
I hesitate for a split second, and his hand grips my thigh, fingers digging in just enough to make me gasp. "Now," he snaps, and my knees part instinctively, heat pooling low in my stomach as his control washes over me.
"That’s better," he mutters, his voice laced with satisfaction. His hand moves higher, his touch slow and deliberate, teasing, as if he knows how badly I want more. "But don’t think for a second I’ll make this easy for you, Ember. You want me? You’re going to earn it."
I’m already trembling, his words sinking into my skin like fire. I moan against the gag.
"Quiet," he bites out, cutting me off. Even blindfolded, I can feel his dark eyes on me, daring me to disobey. "You’re not in charge here. I am. And I decide when you get what you want."
His hands slide to the inside of my thighs, his fingers brushing higher and higher until I’m biting my lip to keep from begging. He leans in, his breath hot against my skin.
"You’ve been running that smart mouth of yours for weeks," he murmurs darkly. "Posting your little fantasies. Talking about men like me. But now that I’m here, you don’t have a fucking clue what to do, do you?"
I shudder, his words cutting through me like a blade. It’s true.
“You want my mouth, don’t you?” His voice is low and rough. “Nod if you want my mouth on you.”
I nod, stifling a moan, thankful for the blindfold so I don’t have to look into his eyes. I’ve never had a man do that before, and I—am not really sure if it’s going to be as nice as I’ve imagined.
They sure do like it in the books…
I swallow hard, my pride warring with my desire. But he doesn’t give me a choice. His grip tightens, his thumbs pressing into my thighs, spreading me wider.
He laughs, dark and almost cruel, and I’m here for it.
And then his mouth is on me.
It’s not gentle. It’s not teasing. It’s raw, consuming, and merciless. His tongue moves with precision, claiming me the way his words have—completely and without apology. My head falls back against the wall, a muffled cry tearing from my throat as he devours me.
I can’t see him but can only imagine his mouth moving like he’s starving, like I’m the only thing that can satisfy him. It makes my entire body clench with need.
"You’re mine," he snarls, his teeth scraping against my sensitive skin, sending jolts of electricity through me. “Give me that pussy. Spread your legs and lean on me.”
When I do what he says, he grants me a reward. “Good girl," he says, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. "Now keep your fucking hands where they are and take it."
I try to move, to shift under the overwhelming sensation, but his hands clamp down on my thighs, holding me in place. "Don’t fucking move," he snaps, his tone a brutal warning.
Every stroke of his tongue, every flick and press, pushes me closer to the edge. He knows exactly what he’s doing, exactly how to undo me. My breaths come in shallow gasps, my body tightening as the pressure builds to a breaking point.
"You don’t come until I say," he growls, pulling back just enough to make me sob in frustration. "You’ll come when I tell you to and not a fucking second before."
I whimper, my hands clenching into fists as I fight to hold back.
I’m trembling, teetering on the edge, and when he finally snarls, "Now," the word hits me like a command I can’t ignore.
I don’t know how to come on command. I don’t know how—
“Come,” he orders with a sharp slap to my hip, and something releases in me.
I fall apart, my body shattering under his relentless touch. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, driving me through wave after wave until I’m wrecked, my legs shaking, my voice hoarse against the gag.
My body slumps against the wall, trembling, but all I can think is that I’ve never wanted him more.
My breath comes in ragged gasps as I fight to collect myself.
My legs are shaking, my throat raw from muffled cries, and still, all I can think about is him.
How he pushes me to the edge and catches me every time.
How I never knew surrender could feel this intoxicating, this safe.