Chapter Twenty-Three
Alex
He didn’t give me time to think.
One second, I was sitting frozen in his lap, staring at the banking site with my heart hammering against my ribs. The next, his hand was around my throat. Not squeezing, just there, like a promise and a threat as he hauled me up out of the chair with a strength that made resistance pointless.
My back hit the wall hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.
His body pressed against mine, pinning me, one hand still wrapped around my throat while the other moved with brutal efficiency.
He grabbed the hem of my shirt and yanked it over my head in one smooth motion.
The fabric caught on my arms, tangled, and he didn’t care.
He just pulled harder until it tore free and fell to the floor.
“Nano—” I started, but his hand tightened around my throat, cutting off my words.
“You had your chance to obey,” he seethed quietly. “You chose defiance. Now you learn the consequences of your actions.”
His fingers found the hem of my shorts and shoved them down my hips with the same ruthless efficiency, taking my underwear with them, until I was standing there naked and trembling while he was still fully clothed. The contrast made me feel more exposed than I had ever been in my life.
He stepped back, his hand leaving my throat, and I gasped for air.
For a moment, I thought about running. The door was right there.
“Don’t,” he growled, and something in his voice froze me in place. “You run, and I’ll make this so much worse. Understand?”
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.
“Good girl.” His praise was mockingly cruel. “Now get on the bed. Face down. Hands above your head.”
My legs were shaking as I moved toward the bed.
Every instinct screamed at me to fight, to run, to do something, but my body obeyed him anyway, moving on autopilot, conditioned by his careful attention to respond to his commands.
I climbed onto the bed and positioned myself the way he ordered.
Face down. Hands stretched above my head.
The sheets were cool against my overheated skin, soft and clean and utterly at odds with what was about to happen.
Behind me, I heard him moving. The clink of metal. The soft rustle of leather. My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst through my chest.
“Wrists together,” he firmly ordered.
I pressed my wrists together, and a moment later I felt cold metal encircle them. Handcuffs. He secured them to the bedpost, I realized, with a chain that rattled when I tested it. There was maybe six inches of give. Not enough to do anything useful.
“Spread your legs.”
Oh God. I hesitated, and his hand came down on my ass. Not hard, just a warning tap that made me flinch.
“I said spread them.”
I did. Slowly. Feeling my face burn with humiliation as I opened myself to him, vulnerable and exposed in a way that made my stomach clench with equal parts fear and something else.
Something darker. He grabbed my left ankle and pulled it toward the corner of the bed, securing it to the post with what felt like rope.
Then the right ankle, spreading me wider, until I was completely immobilized.
Face down, ass up, legs spread, and hands bound.
An offering.
That was what I was. That was what he made me.
“There we go,” he said, and I could hear the satisfaction in his voice. “Now you look like what you are.”
“What’s that?” My words came out before I could stop them, muffled against the sheets.
“Mine.”
The word sent a shiver down my spine. Not fear. Not entirely. Something worse.
Want.
I heard him move around the room, his footsteps lazy and unhurried. He was taking his time. Enjoying this. Savoring the anticipation of what came next. And then something landed on the bed next to my face. Leather. Black. Shaped like a paddle with a short handle.
I stiffened as my breath caught in my throat.
“Do you know what that is?” he asked, his voice coming from somewhere behind me.
I didn’t answer.
“It’s a paddle,” he continued, as if I had asked. “Leather. Flexible enough to sting without doing permanent damage. Perfect for teaching lessons to disobedient little thieves who don’t know when to comply.”
My fingers curled into fists above my head, the handcuffs rattling.
“I’m going to use it on you,” he said conversationally. “But not yet. First, I’m going to make you understand exactly what you gave up when you refused me. I’m going to show you what happens when you choose defiance over obedience. When you choose your pride over my pleasure.”
He moved closer. I felt the bed dip under his weight as he climbed on behind me.
“I’m going to touch you,” he whispered quietly. “And you’re going to feel every second of it. You’re going to get wet for me. Wetter than you’ve ever been in your life. You’re going to beg me to let you come. And I’m going to say no.”
Oh fuck.
“Over and over again,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, darker. “I’m going to bring you right to the edge. Right to that moment where your body is screaming for release, where you would do anything—anything—to come. And then I’m going to stop. Pull back. Make you wait.”
His hand landed on my ass, warm and possessive, and I couldn’t stop the small sound that escaped my throat.
“And when you’re so desperate you can’t think straight, when you’re crying and begging and promising me anything I want—then I’ll use the paddle. And every strike is going to push you closer to the edge without letting you fall over it.”
“Nano.”
“Your punishment,” he said, his hand sliding down between my legs, fingers brushing against my entrance with a feather-light touch that made me gasp, “is that you don’t get to come. Not today. Not until I decide you’ve earned it. And right now? You haven’t earned shit.”
His finger slid inside me. Just one, slow and deliberate, and I felt my body clench around him automatically.
“Already wet,” he murmured, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind is still fighting. That’s good. That’s going to make this so much more fun.”
He withdrew his finger, and I heard him move again, repositioning himself. And then his mouth was on me.
Fuck.
His tongue dragged up my slit, slow and thorough, tasting me like I was something he had been craving.
I bit down on the sheets, trying to stay quiet, trying not to give him the satisfaction of hearing me moan.
But when his tongue found my clit and circled it with deliberate precision, I couldn’t stop the sound that tore from my throat.
“That’s it,” he murmured against me. “Let me hear you. Let me hear how much you want this.”
He licked me again, his tongue flat and broad, applying just enough pressure to make my hips jerk against the restraints.
Then he focused on my clit, alternating between long, slow strokes and quick flicks that made my thighs tremble.
Heat built in my core and spread through my body like wildfire.
My breathing came faster, shallower, as I could feel myself getting wetter with every pass of his tongue.
“You taste so fucking good,” he said, his breath hot against my sensitive flesh. “Like desperation and need and all the things you’re too proud to admit you want.”
He sucked my clit into his mouth, and the sensation was so intense I cried out, my hands pulling uselessly against the handcuffs.
“That’s it,” he encouraged. “Get close. Feel it building. Feel how good it could be if you just let go.”
I was getting close. Too close. The pressure was building in my core, coiling tighter and tighter, and I could feel the edge approaching. That moment where everything would shatter and I could finally get the release my body was screamed for. And then he stopped.
He pulled back and left me gasping and trembling, and empty.
“No,” I whimpered before I could stop myself. “Please.”
“Please, what, thief?” his voice mocked. “Please let you come? After you stole from my club? After you defied me? After you sat in front of my computer and refused to do the one thing I asked?”
His hand came down on my ass hard enough to sting.
“You don’t get to come, Alexandra. Not today. Maybe not tomorrow either. We’ll see how well you learn.”
I heard him move again, and then his fingers were inside my cunt, two this time, thick and filling, as he stretched me. He pumped them slowly, deliberately, and curled them to hit that spot inside that made stars burst behind my eyelids.
“Feel that?” he asked. “Feel how your body responds to me? How it clenches around my fingers like it’s trying to pull me deeper?”
I couldn’t answer. I could barely breathe.
The sensation was overwhelming, pleasure building again with terrifying speed as his thumb found my clit and rubbed circles that matched the rhythm of his fingers. I felt myself climbing toward that edge again. Faster this time. Closer.
“You’re so close,” he murmured. “I can feel it. Your pussy is getting tighter, and your breathing is changing. You’re right there, aren’t you? Right on the edge.”
“Yes,” I gasped. “Yes, please.”
He stopped. He withdrew his fingers and left me hanging.
A sob tore from my throat, frustration and need mixed with something that felt like agony.
“Not yet,” he said calmly. “Actually, not at all. You’re going to learn that your pleasure belongs to me.”
“Please,” I begged, as shame burned through me even as the word left my lips. “Please, Nano, I need.”
“I know what you need.” His hand stroked down my spine, almost gentle. “But what you need and what you get are two different things right now. That’s the lesson, Alexandra. You don’t get what you want anymore. You get what I decide to give you.”
I felt him shift on the bed, and then something cool and smooth pressed against my entrance. Not his fingers. Something else.
“Do you know what this is?” he asked.
I shook my head, not trusting my voice.