Chapter 4 #2
I release her breasts and step back. She makes a sound of protest that goes straight to my cock.
"I told you. No hints, no games. If you want something, ask for it." I circle around to face her, crouching so we're eye level. "Where do you want me to touch you?"
Her face is flushed, eyes slightly glassy. "Between my legs. I want you to touch me between my legs."
"Better." I stroke her cheek with my thumb. "But you can do better than that."
She swallows hard. "I want you to touch my pussy."
"There she is." I reward her with a deep kiss, swallowing her moan as my tongue slides against hers. When I pull back, she's breathing hard and straining against the bench. "Good girl. That's exactly what I wanted to hear."
I move behind her again and hook my fingers into the waistband of her leggings. "Lift up."
She raises her hips, and I pull the leggings down along with her underwear, leaving her completely bare. The sight of her like this, bound and bent over and waiting for whatever I decide to give her, makes my blood pound.
"Spread your legs."
She does, and I can see how wet she already is. Glistening. Ready.
"Look at you." I trace one finger through her folds, barely there, and she whimpers. "So responsive. Has anyone ever taken the time to work you up properly? To make you wait until you're desperate for it?"
"No." The word comes out strangled. "No one."
"That changes now." I slide one finger inside her, slow and deliberate, and feel her clench around me. "You don't come until I say you can. Understood?"
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
The question hangs in the air. I wait, letting her figure it out.
"Yes, sir."
God, her voice when she says it. Breathless and defiant and surrendering all at once.
I add a second finger and start to move, curling against the spot inside her that makes her whole body jolt. My other hand comes down on her ass with a light slap, just enough to sting.
She cries out, but not in pain. In surprise. In pleasure.
"Color?"
"Green. Fuck, green, please don't stop."
I don't stop. I work her with my fingers, alternating between deep strokes and teasing circles around her clit. Every time she gets close, I pull back, denying her the release she's chasing.
"Callum, please." She's trembling now, fighting against the restraints. "I need to come."
"I know you do."
"Then let me."
"Not yet." I lean over her, pressing my chest against her back so she can feel how hard I am through my jeans. "You've spent your whole life taking what you want. Right now, you're going to learn what it feels like to earn it."
"I can't." Her voice breaks. "It's too much."
"You can. You're going to." I slide my fingers deep and press my thumb against her clit, firm and relentless. "Because you want to be good for me. Don't you?"
The question cracks something open in her. I feel it in the way her resistance dissolves, in the way her body goes soft and pliant against the bench.
"Yes." It's barely a whisper. "I want to be good."
"Then hold on a little longer. Just a little more. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, sir."
I push her right to the edge, keeping her there until she's sobbing with need. Until her thighs are shaking and her hands are fists behind her back and she's begging in a stream of broken syllables that sound like my name.
"Now." I give her what she needs, fingers deep, pressure exactly where she wants it. "Come for me now, Nadia."
She shatters.
The orgasm rips through her with a force that makes her whole body convulse. I work her through it, gentling my touch as the waves crest and recede, murmuring praise against her sweat-dampened skin.
"Good girl. That's it. So beautiful when you let go."
She's crying. I don't think she realizes it. Tears streaming down her face as her body keeps shuddering with aftershocks.
I untie her wrists quickly, efficiently, and gather her into my arms. She clings to me like I'm the only solid thing in the world, her face pressed against my chest as she tries to catch her breath.
"I've got you." I carry her to the bed in the corner and settle us both against the pillows. "You're okay. I've got you."
"What the fuck was that?" Her voice is hoarse, wrecked.
"That was you surrendering." I stroke her hair, smoothing the braids that have come loose. "That was you trusting someone enough to let go."
"I've never..." She shakes her head against my chest. "No one's ever made me feel like that."
"Because no one ever held on tight enough to take you there." I press a kiss to her forehead. "You need someone who won't break when you push. Someone who can match your fire and contain it at the same time."
She's quiet, her breathing slowly returning to normal. When she finally looks up at me, her eyes are clear but wondering.
"You didn't..."
"This wasn't about me."
"But you're..." She glances down at the obvious bulge in my jeans.
"I'll survive." I catch her chin and tilt her face up. "Today was about showing you what's possible. Giving you a taste of what it feels like when someone can hold you. We have time for the rest."
"The rest?" A ghost of her usual sharpness returns. "That sounds like a promise."
"It's a statement of intent." I trace her lower lip with my thumb. "If you want there to be more, there will be more. But only if you ask for it."
Her smile is slow, satisfied, and just a little bit dangerous. "I'll think about it."
"You do that."
I hold her while the snow falls outside, while her heartbeat slows and her body relaxes into mine. And I try not to think about how natural this feels. How right.
This was supposed to be simple. A fake relationship to survive a wedding weekend. Nothing more.
But with Nadia warm and trusting in my arms, simple feels like a lie I can't afford to keep telling myself.