Chapter 19
Mariyah
E smeralda wasn’t the only one who’d packed a sex toy in her suitcase.
Admittedly, I didn’t have a dozen. I’d only thrown in my rabbit vibrator, not really sure I was going to have the time or desire to use it, but thankfully, I’d charged it anyway.
Because I had suddenly discovered an important use for it. Revenge .
The celebration ended sometime before midnight, but honestly, between aching with unfulfilled need and stewing in my humiliation, I couldn’t remember the last hour and a half of it. I had tried to distract myself around Pierre, Candy, and Esmeralda, but I’d said and done little while being so hyperaware of Shehryar’s presence and hating myself for it.
I remembered brushing off Esmeralda’s question if I was okay when she pointed out I looked flushed, and Candy had clearly picked up something had happened. He hadn’t asked me to elaborate the details, but he had winked at me and said, “Bring him to his knees, Mariyah.”
That was the plan.
It was why after everyone left or dispersed to their rooms, I snuck towards Shehryar’s room opposite mine, body washed of sweat, wearing nothing but a T-shirt, with my purple toy, a small bottle of lube, and the black boy shorts I’d been wearing in my hands.
The idiot hadn’t bothered locking his door, which made my task easier. I opened it a little at first.
Inside, the light was on, but it appeared empty. The sound of the shower trickled out from the bathroom door. I smiled to myself and walked right in, closing it silently behind me.
His room was like mine mostly, but where I had a vanity, he had a desk and chest of drawers. His bedframe had six intricate rungs carved into the wooden headboard in three sets of pairs; mine had rungs but in a different style. And where I had two windows on the wall opposite the door, he only had one to the left of his bed, draped in heavy, red curtains with a gold railing at the top.
I sauntered to his bed and climbed onto the rose-red silk duvet, crawling to the middle. It was cool and teased against my warm, buzzing skin. I pulled in a deep breath as I rolled onto my back, filling my lungs with the clean, floral scent of sheets and a hint of something citrus and earthy. It smelt of him. That both irritated me immensely and made my core start humming with hollow need again.
“Fuck you, dickhead,” I whispered as I spread my legs, eyes on the bathroom door.
The T-shirt rode to the very top of my thighs, allowing cool air to stroke across my bare sex, but I didn’t touch myself there immediately. Leaning on my elbows, I cupped my breasts instead and massaged them gently. My nipples naturally weren’t very sensitive, but they poked hard and puckered against the worn fabric of my T-shirt, so I gave them slight tugs anyway.
I wasn’t sure how long I had until Shehryar came out, but that was the whole point.
I wanted him to walk out and see me pleasuring myself, bringing myself to an orgasm on his bed, so I allowed a minute of slow caressing and imagining.
I wound myself with images of him naked in the shower, thinking about me. Of him on his knees with his hands bound and his dick hard. Of phantom fingers caressing me. Only when a long sigh slipped between my lips did I tug my T-shirt up to my silver belly button piercing and dipped two fingers down to my pussy, teasing and spreading my wetness over my clit.
Sucking off the salty, tart taste of myself from my fingers, I leaned on one elbow to lube up my vibrator. A faint buzzing noise echoed around as the toy came to life with the press of a button.
I laid flat on my back, pulling my knees up and wide, as I brought the toy to my entrance. I traced the bulbous head between my pussy lips, once, twice, three times. Scrunching the silk sheets in one fist, I pushed it in slowly. All the way.
I moaned and stretched and sighed and writhed as I pumped and held and arched into the vibrator, pleasuring and teasing myself without a care. The long, smooth toy hummed inside me, whispering against every sweet spot, while the bunny ears squirmed against my clit. And maybe it was the knowledge I’d be seen any moment soon or that I was fucking myself on the bed of the man I hated, but I found myself driving to the edge quickly.
Lost in my haze, I didn’t hear the water turn off. But I heard the bathroom door open.
It was loud and definite in my head. A no-turning-back moment.
My heart jolted in my rib cage in wicked excitement, and my stomach contracted as the thrill spun my pleasure higher and higher.
I heard the faint shuffle of feet on the carpet, the slight rustle of a towel rubbing against something.
Then nothing. Nothing but my own pants and moans growing louder.
I didn’t look at him. I kept my eyes on the ceiling as blood rushed to my head and the muscles down my legs tightened. I couldn’t keep my toes on the duvet, and they lifted off, my knees tucking up close to my chest. I spread my thighs as wide as possible and ground the toy into my pussy.
I was so close. So fucking close. And he was there. Watching me.
“Fuck, yes,” I moaned, a faint smile curling onto my lips. “Yes, yes, yes.”
The second I felt the first tug of my orgasm, my free hand flew up and gripped onto the corner of one pillow, thrusting my chest up in the air.
I shattered on a broken cry, gasping as all the threads in my belly tore apart, jolting warm, spiralling sensation all through my middle. I squeezed my eyes shut, clinging on to every blissful second of it.
When it subsided, I pulled the toy out and turned it off. I took a moment to catch my breath, readying myself, then lazily, without a care, pushed up onto my elbows.
The sight before me was annoyingly delicious.
Shehryar fumed a few feet away from the end of the bed, cheeks washed with colour, a blaze in his glaring eyes. His hair was wet and pushed back off his face, there was a white towel wrapped tightly around his sturdy waist, and water trickled down his hairy, muscular forelegs below.
It had never been some secret that Shehryar was big and brawny but seeing him near-naked for the first time reiterated it in a way that made my pussy ache like I hadn’t just come.
His skin was golden and warm against the white of the towel, his shoulders wide and curved with muscle, his chest and pecs defined and painted with a decent matting of brown hairs a shade or two lighter than the hair on his head—I’d always liked hair on a man’s torso. His flat nipples were a dark brown, and a trail of hair ran down the central line of his chest, between rock-solid abs, around his belly button before thickening and disappearing under the towel. And the V on his hips was something else entirely, cut out of marble and so stupidly lick-able.
He had the body of a Viking plunderer who could throw a woman over his shoulder and steal her away, kicking and screaming, while carrying a weighted chest of treasure under his other arm.
I was no fucking damsel about to be stolen away, but fuck me, I could appreciate a mouthwatering body when I saw one. Especially one with the distinct tent of an erection in his towel.
What surprised me though were the two tattoos.
That would’ve been the last thing I’d have expected from the stern, all work Shehryar Timur I knew. But there was a patterned band around the very top of his right arm, and his left pec was detailed with a similar pattern but with more elements around it.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
His growled words snapped my eyes away from their appreciative perusal. His narrow stare darted between my wet cunt, the toy lying next to me, and my face.
“Oops,” I said, playing sweet, sarcastic, and stupid. “You weren’t meant to see that.”
“Mariyah,” he rumbled, and the threat pasted across the back of my neck. Oh, he was pissed, but he was aroused too, and I quite enjoyed that combination on him. Serves him right, idiot.
I picked up the sticky toy and lube in one hand. “Can we pretend you didn’t see that?” I pushed to the edge of the bed, and I was pretty sure I rubbed my arousal on the duvet, but I liked the idea of him having to look at an aggravating reminder of what he’d missed out on.
“You know,” I added, standing up, and the T-shirt slipped back down. “Kind of like how you pretended you knew what you were doing when you thought you could deny me.”
Smoke puffed out of his nostrils as they flared. His hands balled to fists by his sides, his fingers moving restlessly, but he stayed mute and immobile as I approached him.
“But I’ll be nice and leave you a souvenir.” I lifted my hand, and his eyes dropped to the black boy shorts I held in it. “Something just for you, hmm.”
I stopped right in front of him, close enough for his erection to brush my lower belly.
He glared down. I smiled up…
And tucked my underwear into the top on his towel, maybe giving it a testing tug too.
“Night, Sheri,” I purred, letting my hand skim his hard-on as I dropped it.
With a flick of my hair, I turned and headed to the door.
It was unnatural how quietly and quickly he moved when he wanted to. No doubt it was down to his training in the Army, but it was fucking inconvenient when I was trying to make a damned exit.
I didn’t get my triumphant exit. I didn’t even reach said exit.
The satisfied swing in my hips only lasted five or six steps before his hand clamped around the back of my neck, tangling through my hair. I gasped as he dragged me away from the door. I heard a faint click, maybe the lock on the handle, behind me.
“Shehryar,” I barked, as he walked me all the way to his bed.
He shoved me as my knees hit the mattress, and I tumbled forward. I let the toy and lube fall from my grasp to catch myself on my hands and quickly snapped my hair out of my face to glare back at him.
“What the fuck?” I spat. But when I registered the ominous amusement in his sneer and the bright, swallowing gleam in his eyes, a foreboding prickle puckered my skin with goosebumps.
“You”—a chuckle mingled in his growling timbre—“are in so much fucking trouble. You little impatient menace.” I flipped onto my elbows, keeping my scowl stubborn, as he kneeled on the bed. “You just couldn’t wait, could you?”
He made a slow crawl over me, and his towel strained—one tug and it was going to come undone.
“Wait for what?” I hissed as his face appeared above mine. “Your pathetic peanut? No thanks.”
He shook his head, tutting me softly, and that humiliated, getting-told-off discomfort returned to my chest, making me want to lash out. “And I had planned to make it so good for you too…if only you had behaved.”
I squared my chin. “I’m not a fucking child that you can tell me to behave.”
“No, you’re just a brat,” he said almost softly, and it threw me off a little. “Desperate to be punished and held down and fucked into tomorrow. That’s why you came here and touched yourself on my bed. You wanted to show me how bad you can be, so I would do something about it.”
I felt and heard his towel unravel and drop onto my thighs, but I couldn’t look away from his unyielding stare. “You wanted me to bruise your arse and leave your cunt sore from being stretched and tortured, didn’t you? So, you didn’t wait or behave like I told you to.” His mouth almost touched mine as he sank closer. “Now you’re going to receive your punishment, and you’re not going to like it, Mariyah. But it’s what you wanted. And it’s what you deserve. So, you’re going to take it. All of it .”
I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel. My emotions were almost tumbling as fast as my heartbeat, swapping from anger and outrage, to desire and confusion, to agitation and hatred.
No guy had ever spoken to me like that. Yes, two or three had tried to, and we’d done the whole “Daddy” thing and been a little rough, but only one guy had managed to make it work enough to feel really good. The other two had been rushing or had only cared about their own pleasure.
Shehryar didn’t sound or look like he was going to rush or fumble about, not when his words hit the truth harder than I’d ever fucking admit. He meant every single word.
My throbbing cunt agreed. She wanted everything he said. But my mind was having trouble accepting being that submissive, and it was rallying a battalion of anger to fight my body’s desire.
“Fuck you,” I snarled, but it came out more breathy than venomous.
He leaned on one hand and pinched my chin between his other finger and thumb. “Every time you give me attitude, I’ll simply elongate your punishment.”
He was serious. He was actually fucking serious.
It wasn’t fear that set me into motion, but more like caution, an “Abort mission! Abort the fucking mission!” screech in my head.
I threw myself onto my belly and scrambled forward to get out from under him and off the bed.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he hissed through a chuckle, his arm banding around my waist.
I shrieked as he dragged me down to him and gasped when he flipped me onto my back. We were a blur of slapping and grappling hands as I wrestled for escape and he for dominance. I knew I was fighting a losing battle, but I wasn’t exactly pissed about it. The drug in my blood felt more like thrill.
One wrong move on my part allowed him to drag me towards the two pillows like I weighed nothing. I clawed at his wrists, but he fisted my T-shirt anyway and pulled in opposite directions.
A coarse ripping sound cut through the panting, grunting noises in the room.
I went still, my mouth hanging open as I looked down at what he’d done.
He’d fucking ripped my T-shirt in two from the neckline right down the hem, baring my naked body to him. My thick thighs patterned with stretch marks, my bare pussy, the full curve of my hips, the softness of my belly up to my pert breasts. Every fucking inch of me.
I was angry. I liked that T-shirt. But some secret part of me found what he’d done unbelievably sexy too.
His long, low groan drew my attention back up, but before I got the chance to cuss him out, he clamped his fingers across my face, squeezing my cheeks together and forcing my teeth apart.
I hadn’t seen him pick up my black underwear, but it was in his hand.
He shoved it into my mouth, far enough that I couldn’t spit it out.
My fury and arousal trebled. He smirked proudly. I fought harder. But he was quicker.
By some magic, he yanked my torn T-shirt up my back, drawing my hands above my head and away from my mouth. The fabric came off my shoulders and climbed my arms. When he reached my wrists, he crossed the torn halves. I grunted and struggled, but he swiftly tied them around one of the rungs in the headboard, restricting my movement.
“There we go,” he said through heavy breaths as he sat back, straddling my waist.
Gagged and bound, I was fucking livid, but I couldn’t deny how aroused I was too. It made for an uncomfortable mix. I didn’t want to accept wanting what the huge, irritating dickhead had warned me about, but for the first time, I allowed myself to look down and see what I was dealing with.
A breathless sound drowned in the fabric stuck in my mouth.
Except for the path of hair coming down from his bellybutton, his groin area was hairless. Maybe that was why he looked massive. Not a monstrous twelve-incher, just really fucking big. And thick, long, veiny. And so bloody hard.
He was no peanut. And maybe I was suddenly, a teeny tiny bit regretful of all my taunting.
“The safe word is ‘ red,’ ” he said like I hadn’t been glaring at his dick or we weren’t both naked. “But with a gag in your mouth, you give me two taps. And I haven’t tied you tightly, but if your hands start feeling cold or numb, you tap me three times. Is that clear?”
I blinked at him dumbly, hearing him but not quite processing it.
His hand came up and swiped down, slapping me across my breasts. I gasped and jerked under him. A sweet sting pounced over my skin. I glared up at his calm expression.
“I won’t do anything until you tell me you understand.” He paused. “Nod if you want to continue. Or tap your arm twice if you don’t.”
I did nothing out of spite. But he sat there above me patiently waiting, giving me time to push my anger aside and see that he was doing it for my benefit, not for his.
He was giving me an out if I wanted it.
I should have taken it. I should have wanted to take it.
But I nodded slowly.
A slow smirk stretched across his lips before he picked up my rabbit vibrator and shook it questioningly. “How long does the charge on this last?”
I glanced between the vibrator and him.
Why…why was he asking?