Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
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C ora
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“W hat’s this about you not screaming for us, sweetheart?” Sinclair whispers in my ear as he bends me over the desk, his body pressing against mine to keep me in place.
My mind swirls. My nerves pick apart every new sensation, leaving me trembling with fear and curiosity at the size of Sinclair’s rock-hard cock against me.
He reaches around and cups my naked breast in his hand. My nipple swells, welcoming his touch even as I command my body to feel nothing. My clit throbs between my thighs, and I don’t know what to do.
Dear god.
I’m not given a moment’s respite. Flinn places the rope on the desk and locks his gaze with mine, resolute in his demand that I look back at him, uncaring that I’m hanging on by a thread.
My heart stops as he lifts my hand and brings the inside of my wrist to his mouth. Just his breath on my skin pushes me further into this dark abyss where I yearn for a different kind of taste.
He kisses the inside of my wrist, and then, with his gaze still locked with mine, he licks my skin. At the same time, Sinclair behind me grips my breast, squeezing until my pebbled nipple stands out.
An incoherent sound escapes my lips as they deliberately plant an image in my head. Flinn isn’t licking the skin on my wrist; his tongue is lapping at the nipple Sinclair is offering him.
I slam my thighs together, and it’s the worst thing I could have done. The throbbing in my clit spreads to every part of me. Without thinking, I seek out Kian. I don’t know why I do; I just do. He’s watching everything his adopted brothers are doing to me.
I can’t deny the fresh wave of wetness that slides from between my folds. But I vow not to utter a sound. I need to salvage my control. I am not this weak.
But I’ve never played this game before, and they are the masters.
Flinn picks up the rope. Alarm bursts through me. I struggle, but I can’t move. I can do nothing as Flinn restrains me to the desk.
My cheeks burn hot as I visualize the embarrassing position they’ve bound me in.
I’m bent over, my arms stretched to the other side and restrained with rope, so low that my nipple brushes against the cool wood surface of the desk.
Every time I breathe, I press against it, and the pressure drives me crazy. It’s not enough. I need...
No. I need to keep my wits about me.
But whatever I have in my arsenal of defense disintegrates when Flinn opens a flat leather bag.
My eyes nearly bulge at the sight before me.
No. No. No. No.
I know what a butt plug looks like; I’m not that na?ve. Apprehension rattles my nerves as Flinn picks one out along with a tube of lubricant.
I get a clearer view of the plug when he holds it in his hand. It might look like an ordinary sex toy, but it is far from it. The dome is made of glass; the base is wood, and engraved into the gleaming wood are snow leopards, the Nix Consortium’s crest.
Under the light of the chandelier, diamonds glitter where the animals’ eyes are. It looks like a piece of art and could easily be mistaken as such, but in the hands of these men, it’s anything but innocent.
Still, I say nothing as I fall apart a little more each time on the inside.
I close my eyes as Sinclair lifts my dress, draping the skimpy fabric in the dip of my lower back. I squint my eyes together as I feel his hands glide across the skin of my butt.
“So fucking soft. Her skin is like warm silk,” he murmurs. His touch is gentle, yet he creates an erotic maelstrom deep within me.
I shake my head, trying to regain my senses until everything inside me goes dark. My brain scrambles to register what just happened.
Flinn spanked me.
He cracked his palm against the flesh of my backside, startling the breath from my lungs. I’m too shocked to register any pain, but he does it again. Heat rises from within me to my throat. My eyes fill with tears and spill onto the desk.
This time the pain is so blinding I whimper, ready to beg him to stop, but I clench my jaw tight, determined not to give in.
He strikes me again. Not brutally. Not cruelly.
Carefully and calculated, he ignites my nerves, and now I’m raging against a fire I can’t control.
Shame ignites within me too. My pussy leaks onto my thighs, and the harder I press them together, the slicker they feel, sliding against each other.
The sensation drives me crazy. My clit screams at me to touch it. I can’t stop this. I don’t know what is happening to me. Why am I responding this way?
An agonized, needy, pathetic moan escapes my mouth. I part my legs, sobbing for relief, desperate for cool air to ease the lascivious throbbing inside me. But I don’t sound like myself. I’m not this person. And parting my legs does nothing but throw me over the edge.
I need...
“Jesus Christ,” Flinn breathes.
“Fuck,” Sinclair growls. “She is fucking stunning.”
Flinn, I know it’s Flinn, bends down behind me. Sinclair parts the cheeks of my butt, and I squirm as Flinn inserts the thin nozzle of the lubricant into my bottom hole and squeezes.
I can’t put words to the foreign sensation of being touched there, where it is most forbidden.
When I’m filled with the lube, Flinn slides the head of the butt plug to my pussy, parting my folds and twirling the dome into the lake of wetness that continues to pour out of me.
If I weren’t bound, I would have dissolved into the floor.
“Take a deep breath, beautiful,” Flinn says softly, warning me.