Chapter 15 #2
“No.” He stares at my mouth. “Not Kaz.”
I swallow, my throat working against his hand. I know what he wants. And the devil inside me wants desperately to give it to him.
It’s his eyes. I can’t seem to focus properly when the fire burns so bright. I’m like a moth flying straight for the flames that will burn me up.
Even knowing what will happen, I can’t seem to stop myself from flying into them.
“Ask me, ask me for permission to use my name.” He orders, his fingers tightening around my throat.
Marco played this game with me once, he squeezed my airway until stars danced in the edges of my vision. Only when my eyes rolled back and I was about to lose consciousness did he let me go.
This isn’t that.
Kaz isn’t trying to hurt me. He’s trying to break me.
It’s different.
And it’s working.
He kisses me. A soft peck to the side of my mouth before he captures my mouth in a deep, fierce kiss that leaves me breathless and hungry.
“Ask me,” he says again squeezing a little tighter. “Maybe there’s another way to teach you who’s in control here.”
He lets go of my throat, and the cool air of the room brushes across the heated spot where his hand had been. I suck in a deep breath.
With skilled practice, he unbuttons the top button of my jeans and slides his hand inside. Gliding beneath the elastic of my panties, he pushes lower until his fingers brush across my clit.
“Shit, sweetheart,” he whispers into my ear. “Your pussy is soaked for me.”
I want to shove him away, curse him for touching me, throw something at him for making it feel so damn good, but all I do is part my legs a little. I give in. I give him easier access.
He chuckles in my ear, then kisses the spot on my neck just below my earlobe.
“So good for me now, right? You’re a good girl for me when my hand is in your pants. When my fingers are touching your wet, swollen clit.” He emphasizes his words, rolling my clit beneath the pad of his finger.
I press myself into the door, knowing full well if it wasn’t there I’d be on my ass. My knees have given up on holding me up.
I’m in his hands now.
“Should I stop? Do you want me to stop?” He kisses his way up my throat, across my jawline until he’s at my mouth.
He lifts his dark, stormy eyes to mine. “Do you want me to stop, Sienna?”
I remember what he said in the hotel. Just stay the word and he’ll stop. Even if he was balls deep inside me, he’d stop.
And it’s still true. Even with his unreasonable anger toward me…his obvious dislike for me, he will stop if I say so.
“No.” I whimper the word, because why the hell am I saying no?
His expression cracks into a wicked grin.
“Then you need to ask me. Ask me to let you come.” He runs his fingers through my wet pussy lips until he reaches my entrance. “Ask me, Sienna.”
Two fingers, no three, plunge inside me, filling me, stretching me as he bends them, contorts them in ways that make my body ache to belong to him.
I close my eyes, squeezing them shut, trying to forget he’s there. Trying to ignore the sensations dancing over my skin. But it’s impossible. It’s his touch that’s giving me life.
“Don’t close your eyes, sweetheart. Let me see your pretty eyes.” He nips my earlobe. “You’re so beautiful like this. Desperately trying to ignore me but needing to give over.”
When I open my eyes, he’s there, staring at me like he can see straight through me.
In a weird way, I think he can. I think he can see straight into my very soul.
And it aches.
It hurts to be seen so easily, being so on display and being able to do nothing to stop it.
“You’re beautiful when you obey, Sienna. So give me what I want, what you want. Give us what we both need.” His thumb brushes across my clit, and I whimper with need.
“I can’t.” I shake my head.
“You can. All you have to do is ask.” He kisses me again, softly this time with all the patience of the world. “Just ask me to let you come. Ask me to give you what is rightfully yours as my wife.”
I arch my body into his touch.
He leans down, wrapping his mouth around my nipple through my shirt. With his teeth, he grabs hold and pulls.
The pain, the sweet unadulterated pain of it, shoots straight through my body, right to my clit, and I cry out. It’s a plea. For mercy or for an orgasm…
I think they mean the same thing at this point.
“Please!” I slap my hands against the door behind me. “Please, make me come. Let me come, sir. Please!” My body coils. My insides shake.
A thin layer of perspiration appears on my neck and tears build in my eyes. I’m going to explode. One way or another.
He lines up our gazes. Shifts his hand so he can get a better angle, rubbing my clit harder, faster as he pumps his fingers inside of me. Another bend of his knuckle and I have to curl my toes. I’m losing control.
“I can’t hold on anymore.”
“Yes you can. You wait for permission, or you get nothing.” His voice his hard, but his eyes, they’re filled with as much hunger and urgency as I feel inside.
“Oh, god. Please, sir. Please!” My head falls forward, and I’m heaving into his shoulder.
“One more time, sweetheart, ask me again.”
I bite down on my lip. Where is my spine? Where is that grit I came in the room with? Where’d it all go?
“Please let me come. Please,” I whisper the last bit.
He smiles, it’s wide and arrogant, and sexier than anything I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Yes, Sienna. You have my permission. You may come.” He emphasizes the word permission, but I can’t feel any sort of way about that. Not now. Not while my body unleashes the fury of an orgasm held back for too long.
He covers my mouth with his, taking my scream of pleasure into his body. His fingers curl, twist, stroke me, guiding me through the storm of my release.
I’m gasping for air by the time the last wave of it ebbs, and I lay my head on his shoulder. Breathing in, his spicy aftershave warms me.
Tears build again.
The tension in my body eases.
“Good girl.” He brushes my hair away and kisses my cheek, gently pushing me back against the door while he rights me.
I’m dazed, leaning back as he re-zips and buttons my jeans, straightens my shirt. I stare at him, speechless as he runs his hands through my hair, and tucks the thick strands behind my ear.
He brings me to the chair at his desk and eases me into it. Pressing one hand against the desk, the other to the back of the chair, he hovers again.
It’s moments before my brain functions again, and I turn to look up at him. My face flames with embarrassment.
I begged him.
I called him Sir.
I caved.
“Remember your rules, Sienna. I’ll be back in the morning.”
He opens my laptop and touches the mouse pad, bringing it back to life. “If you want to work,…work. I won’t stop you.”
I swallow.
“It will make it easier, right? I have my life, you have yours.” My voice is soft, to damn soft for the rage building in my chest.
He’s doing it again.
He was here, right here with me just like the night in the hotel, but now he’s pulling back. He’s replacing the man I couldn’t get out of my mind with the monster who met me at the altar.
“Yeah.” He walks to the door, grabbing the doorknob and pausing. “But never mistake who is in charge here, Sienna. If you want something, you will ask first.”
The door slams behind him and I’m alone.
My phone vibrates and I grab it, worried Melody is calling again about Tommy.
It’s a text message from my uncle.
And the black cloud I thought I left in New York settles over my head.