Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Aria
Fear thundered through her veins, sending her heart to racing again.
But it was different than before. Instead of the bone-deep terror that she’d made a huge mistake, that she’d put herself in an impossibly dangerous situation, this felt…
good. More like the fear from a scary movie or a rollercoaster ride.
Master O was kneeling between her thighs now, leaning over her, crowding her in a way that kept her from feeling as if she could draw a deep enough breath. Was that part of it? Keep her off-center, unable to truly get her bearings?
If it was, it was working like a charm.
Hooded eyes met hers as he reached down with one hand to cup her breast. Pleasure mingled with fear in her veins, making her head swim as she resisted the urge to look down.
Breaking that eye contact now felt like losing, for reasons she couldn’t have explained even to herself, and this was a game she was determined to win.
“Color, princess,” he murmured as he rolled her nipple between his fingers, sending more of that delightful pleasure racing through her body.
“Green, Sir. Very green. I promise.”
“I believe you.” Those clever fingers clamped down around her nipple, just enough pressure to create a dull ache in her breast. “And now?”
“Still green.” It hurt, but not nearly as much as she’d expected it to. And the hurt was… well, it was quite lovely if she was being entirely honest with herself. Even with all her curiosity surrounding the club, she’d never considered herself a masochist.
She almost hoped he proved her wrong.
“Good. I’m going to put the first clamp on now. These are adjustable, so we’ll start with the lightest setting first and keep going until it hurts but isn’t unbearable. Ready?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Releasing his hold on her nipple, he plucked one of the clamps from his other hand and held it up for her to see again. Pink jewels dangled from the silver device, and black rubber covered the tips.
It was curiosity more than fear wending its way through her body now as she shifted her gaze to his face. She’d known enough businessmen in her life to recognize when someone had a decent poker face.
Master O, she was realizing with more than a little annoyance, had an excellent poker face.
Other than those few flashes of that elusive ‘something’ she’d seen in his eyes a few times so far, he hadn’t really given her much to go on.
She knew he was going to enjoy hurting her, but other than that, she had no clue what was going on behind those agate eyes.
And he didn’t give her much more to go on as he latched the first clamp onto her nipple. Much like when he’d squeezed a moment ago, there was a dull ache, nothing she couldn’t handle. Nothing she wouldn’t enjoy if he left it there while he ate her out.
“How’s that?”
“Good. It’s more pressure than pain.”
A hint of a smile curved his lips, and she thought she caught a flash of approval in his eyes, but other than that, he was still an infuriatingly blank canvas. “Let’s get the other one on and then we can try tightening them up a bit.”
Gentle, lovely pleasure coursed through her as he repeated the process, playing with her unadorned breast until he’d worked her nipple to a hard peak before attaching the second clamp.
Straightening, he raked his gaze over her, and for a moment, just a moment, she saw beneath the mask.
Saw a hunger that matched her own, and for the first time in her life she understood the women who wielded their sexuality with power rather than shame.
To have a man, a rich, powerful man—because he was certainly all those things, whoever he really was behind the moniker he’d given her—look at her like she was the last drop of water in the desert and he was dying of thirst was a powerful fucking feeling.
And she wanted more.
Shifting now, she arched her back, putting her breasts more on display. The movement tugged at her nipples, sending little jolts of pleasure straight to her clit.
But she wasn’t the only one affected. Master O jerked his gaze back to her face, and again she got a glimpse of who he was beneath the sophisticated mask.
A monster, he’d said.
And she thought he might be right.
There was no fear now, though. Any anxiety she’d had over submitting to him had long since fled. Now, all she felt was that rush of power.
“Are you going to hurt me, Daddy?”
She might not feel afraid, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t put on a show. Didn’t mean she couldn’t let her voice shake just a bit, allow her bottom lip to tremble ever so slightly.
Her performance was rewarded with another flash of that raw, naked hunger in his eyes.
“I am. Let’s see how tight we can get those clamps before you scream.”
Oh, shit. Now some of that fear from earlier did come rushing back as he leaned in again, crowding her just like before as he reached for one clamp, giving the knob on the side a single, slow turn.
The pressure increased, enough to draw a low hiss from her lips as that dull pain became a deeper ache.
“Color?”
“Green, Sir.”
A soft hum as he twisted the knob on the opposite breast and her pussy spasmed with need. Maybe she was a masochist after all, because it hurt, it really, really did, but clearly her body was confusing that pain with pleasure.
“Another, then,” he said softly, giving the first clamp another turn.
Now the pain turned sharp, and she let out a shocked gasp. “Oh! Oh, fuck that hurts!”
“Deep breath for me, princess. In through your nose and out through your mouth.” She obeyed, and was rewarded with another of those half-smiles. “Good girl. Now, what color are you?”
Red. The word trembled on her tongue, but she forced herself to drag in another breath, to give herself a moment to really focus on the pain before she answered.
And was surprised to find it wasn’t actually as bad as she’d first thought. It still hurt, more than she’d expected, but it wasn’t unbearable.
“Green.” When he raised an eyebrow in clear disbelief, she rolled her eyes. “Kind of a lime green at first, but it’s better now. Really.”
“Hmm. All right. Perhaps we should leave it there, then.”
That would be the smart thing. The logical thing. To not push herself too far the very first time, to let him focus on her pleasure rather than testing her limits.
But then she would have gone through all this trouble, broken all these rules for nothing.
“No. I want more. Please, Daddy. I want… I want you to hurt me.”
Killian
Fucking hell, she was going to be the death of him. Staring up at him with those wide, azure eyes, pleading with him to hurt her.
It would take a much stronger man than him to turn down such a request.
Helpless against that breathless plea, he reached for her other breast, gave the knob a slow turn. And watched as her pupils darkened, as the understanding washed over her face.
He was hurting her.
And she was loving every second of it.
Doing his damnedest to ignore the ache in his cock, he gave her a moment to adjust, for the pain to settle a bit before he gave the first clamp another turn. A whimper slipped out, and she immediately rolled her lips together to stop the sound.
That would never do.
Gripping her chin again, he used his thumb to pull her lips apart. “None of that, princess. Tonight, I own every whimper, every cry, every scream, and you will not deprive me of them. Say ‘Yes, Daddy’ if you understand.”
Oh, she didn’t like that. If he had to guess, she was fine with submission on her terms. If it was something she wanted to give. But she didn’t want to give him this, and she was going to fight it.
He could wait her out. Simply step aside and refuse to take her any further until she agreed.
But instinct honed by years of business negotiations and scenes had taught him to recognize when someone was going to dig their heels in. And those instincts told him that the woman beneath him was prepared to be very, very stubborn indeed.
Still gripping her chin, he leaned, their gazes locked.
“You can either give me your screams voluntarily, or I will rip them from you by force. I will hurt you, and I will keep hurting you until you have no choice but to scream for me. I’m going to give you a count of ten to agree before I decide to get mean. Ten.”
Fear swirled in her eyes, shifting the pale blue to a stormy gray he could lose himself in if he wasn’t careful. But she didn’t answer.
“Nine.”
“Eight.”
A huff of breath through her nose.
“Seven.”
She swallowed, hard enough for him to actually hear it in the otherwise silent room.
“Six.”
More fear in those baby blues, turning frantic now.
“Five. Halfway there, princess. Time to decide.”
Come on, baby. Be a good girl for Daddy.
“Four.”
Her lips parted, but then she immediately pressed them together again, her eyes flashing with defiance.
“Three.”
Another huff, louder this time, like a bull staring down a matador.
“Two.”
Tugging at her restraints, and he was rather convinced she would have stomped her foot if she hadn’t been lying down.
“O—”
“Okay, okay!” The words burst out of her and she glared up at him, twin flags of temper flying high on her cheeks. “You win, you ass—”
“No name calling,” he reminded her, deliberately keeping his tone even in direct contrast to her anger. “Or I will punish you, and you will not enjoy it even a little bit.”
One corner of her lip pulled up in a snarl, and fuck if his cock didn’t ache more at the sight of it. That’s right, princess. I don’t want this pretty, surface-level submission. I want it filthy and messy and painful. I want you.
“Fine. You win, Daddy.”
“Good girl. But I meant what I said about taking your screams by force. Try to hold them back from me again, and you’ll learn exactly what I mean. Understood?”
She swallowed hard again, looking more uncertain than defiant now. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Much better. One more turn of the clamps, I think. If you’re a good girl and let me hear you cry, you may have your pleasure.”