Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Aria
She could do this. They were just panties, for fuck’s sake. And although she was a virgin, she had actually been naked in front of a guy before.
Just the one, but still. She could do this.
Silently lecturing herself for being so damn dramatic, she took a step back when he released her chin, hooking her fingers in the waistband of her panties. The movement drew his attention downward, and she watched as that same something from before flickered across his face.
“Mistletoe?”
“Yeah.” Thankfully her voice wasn’t as shaky as the rest of her felt. “I think it was Lottie’s idea of a joke. You know, kiss me under the mistletoe or whatever.”
“Lottie is a genius.”
There was such affection in his tone, in his eyes, it gave her pause. “Have you two ever…?”
“No. She’s a friend, nothing more.”
A friend. Right. Because he frequented the club her father owned, and Lottie wasn’t just Braden’s submissive and now wife, but worked a few nights a week. To keep her busy, Lottie had said, but Aria had always wondered if there was more to it than that.
Whatever the reasoning, it meant Lottie was here more often than not, so of course she’d be friends with the regulars. There was no reason for the jealousy twisting her stomach into knots at the mere thought of them knowing each other.
Shoving those uncomfortable feelings down deep, she returned to her task, sliding the satin panties down her thighs, balancing on one foot as she stepped out of one leg hole and then the other.
“Hand them to me.” His gaze locked on her face as he held his hand out for her panties.
Jerking her chin up, she let her lip curl in a smirk. “Say please.”
It was, she was fairly certain, the absolute wrong thing to say to a man like him.
Would he punish her? Put her over his knee and spank her for daring to be so cheeky?
Were the cabinets in here stocked like the ones in her father’s office, full of terrifying implements he might use to put her in her place?
The thought was both thrilling and horrifying all at the same time.
But to her surprise, he didn’t haul her over his knee or reach for the buckle of his belt. He didn’t even threaten her.
He simply… laughed.
“Brat.” The word held a wealth of affection, different from what she’d heard in his voice when he’d been talking about Lottie, but there all the same.
“But you’re right. There’s no reason to eschew good manners just because I’m about to tie you down and have my way with you.
So, princess, will you please give me your panties? ”
He was teasing her, and oddly enough it relaxed her enough for her to finally drop the panties into his outstretched hand.
Emerald eyes flashed with approval as he lifted the damp fabric to his nose—and inhaled.
Holy fuck.
“Oh, you smell delicious, princess. I can’t fucking wait to taste you. Now that we’ve completed the first step of the plan, I want you on the bed, stretched out with your arms over your head.”
Her gaze flicked to the side. “Why can’t we use one of the thrones?”
Why the hell are we wasting time asking ridiculous questions when we could be getting laid?
Master O raised a dark brow in response. “Because you aren’t in charge here. You may be a princess, but I am a king, and you will do as you’re told or I will punish you.”
Humiliation slithered over her skin, leaving her burning in its wake. But not in a way that made her want to gather her clothes and storm out, telling him what an arrogant asshole he was, even if part of her was convinced that was exactly what she should do.
No, this version of humiliation had her pussy clenching, desperate for the feel of him inside her.
What the hell was that all about?
Tucking her panties into his pocket—which led to more of that confusing as fuck humiliation spreading through her body—he cocked his brow even higher.
“I’m starting to think you’d be more interested in some impact play than the scene I laid out for you, princess.
And I’m perfectly happy to oblige if getting your bottom spanked red is your preference. ”
Fuck if there wasn’t a part of her that actually really did want to know what that was like.
But she wanted the orgasms more, and she really, really wanted him to fuck her, so she strode over to the bed and stretched out on her back, her chin tilted up to remind him that just because she was doing as he’d asked didn’t mean she’d been cowed.
“Good girl.”
His praise, like the humiliation, washed over her, making her clit throb with need as he moved to the armoire and pulled out two plain white boxes.
Setting the smaller of the two boxes on the table beside the bed, he opened the longer box and pulled out a pair of gorgeous maroon cuffs attached to each other with a rose-gold chain.
Kneeling on the bed, he straddled her stomach, pinning her beneath him as he wrapped the smooth leather around one wrist. “Yellow or red will let me know if the cuffs are too tight. Yellow if you’re just uncomfortable, red if you’re actually hurt or they’re cutting off your circulation. They shouldn’t, but just to be safe.”
“Yes, Sir.”
With one wrist wrapped in soft leather, he moved on to the next arm. And when both were bound, he hooked the chain through a metal ring above her head. She gave her arms a few experimental tugs, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest when she realized how truly trapped she was.
“Color, princess.”
Other than the mild panic wrapping around her throat, she was fine. And that little bit of panic was probably normal, right? It was an entirely human reaction to freak out a bit when you found yourself tied to a bed at the complete and utter mercy of a man you’d only just met.
“Green, Sir.”
Leaning over her, he locked that unnerving emerald gaze on her. “Entirely green? Not even a hint of yellow?”
Her natural inclination was toward flippant, sarcastic remarks. It was how she’d handled pretty much every uncomfortable situation in her life, including her own father’s wedding.
But there was just something about Master O, the way he looked at her, into her, as if he could see into the deepest parts of her soul, that had the glib retort dying on her tongue.
“Maybe a tiny bit yellow. But it’s fine, really. Just a little freaked out about not being able to escape.”
“Understandable. If you’d be more comfortable, we could start with some honor bondage.”
“Honor bondage?”
“Yes. It’s where I unstrap you, but you have to keep your arms and legs where I’ve put them. You’ll be able to escape if you feel the need, but it’s more of a mindfuck.”
“What happens if I don’t stay in place?”
“Ah.” Wicked and sharp, his smile flashed, and everything in her trembled. “Then I get to punish you.”
It was then, with the promise of pain glittering in his eyes, that she realized she wasn’t half as brave as she liked to think. “I think I’ll keep the restraints, thanks.”
“All right. But if you need out, just say red and I’ll release you immediately.” Reaching for her, he cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheekbone in a move so unbearably intimate it nearly made her weep. “You can trust me, princess.”
“I do.” Maybe it was stupid, and reckless, and maybe her father would lose his absolute shit if he ever found out. But she’d never trusted anybody the way she did the man kneeling over her right then. “I trust you.”
“Good. I’m going to put the clamps on you now. It’s going to hurt, a lot, and they’ll hurt even more when I take them off. But I’ll make sure you get plenty of pleasure to balance out the pain. Sound good?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
For whatever reason, he felt more like Daddy just then, soothing her fears, talking her through everything that came next. And when she watched that same emotion from earlier flash in his eyes, she knew she’d made the right call switching up his honorifics.
“Good girl.” Leaning over, he picked up the smaller of the two white boxes.
Like the one that had held the cuffs, it was nondescript enough that it could have held anything, but it was the glimmer in his eye that gave him away.
Fear ran icy fingers up her spine, and she had to swallow hard against the urge to whimper.
He was going to hurt her. And he was going to enjoy it.
Fuck.
Killian
Did she know that everything she felt, everything she thought was stamped across her face like an open damn book?
Probably not. She struck him as the type who would immediately switch up on him, try to hide those reactions if she knew. And he was enjoying the openness, the rawness of her reactions far too much to allow her even that small bit of charity.
And because he wouldn’t allow it, he could see the fear in her eyes. Not the fear he was used to, the kind that mingled with excitement and made for a nervous but eager submissive. No, this was genuine worry, bordering on terror, and that would never do.
Still straddling her hips, he gripped the box with one hand, using his free hand to tap that little crease between her brows.
“Eyes on me, princess.”
He could make her look at him, as he had before. Take her chin between his fingers, force her head up. It was a move guaranteed to make just about any submissive, no matter how hardened, weak in the knees.
But as he’d already told her, he didn’t just want a body in his bed.
He wanted a willing participant. Even more so now, having seen how hard she struggled to obey when left to her own devices.
The thrill of breaking her, of making her complicit in her own submission, her own torment, her own humiliation was just too delicious to pass up.
So he waited her out, the room so silent around them he could hear the seconds ticking by on his watch. Ten… Twenty… A full thirty before she finally tilted her head back, her eyes blazing with a determination that was only slightly muddied by the fear still lingering in the pale blue.