Chapter Thirty-Two
Ember
He dives for me; I parry him with the flat of the knife against his cheek. If I’d angled it a centimeter differently, it would’ve sliced him open, but this isn’t a fight meant to incapacitate or kill. It started out as a fight to let out energy, but now, it’s foreplay.
Max grips my wrist, wrenching it to the side.
The pressure is too intense, and the knife clatters from my hand, falling harmlessly to the ground.
Then, his arms come around my midsection, and he hurls me face-forward onto the bed.
I barely have a chance to bounce before he’s on top of me, wrangling my hands behind my back and pushing my head into the mattress.
“You lost,” he says, his voice gravelly, finally sounding a bit out of breath and a whole lot turned on. “I won. I’m taking my prize.”
There are no questions, no ounce of hesitation. He’s earned me fair and square.
I expect him to shove down his pants and thrust inside of me, but that’s not what he does.
Instead, he releases my head just long enough to hike my knees up beneath me, lifting my ass into the air.
Then, he’s back to pinning my face with one hand and holding my wrists immobile with another.
His hot tongue licks over one of my ass cheeks, and then, his teeth sink in with a growl of pure victory.
I stifle a cry into the bedding. There’s pain, but there’s also a deep sense of possession and dominion. Of well-earned domination.
I don’t think he even has to hold me in place right now; I respect him for beating me fair and square, and I’m so fucking turned on by him, if he doesn’t get inside me soon, I might make a fool of myself and willingly start begging.
His face lifts, he inches my legs apart, and his hand squeezes the back of my neck before drifting down to my ass. He cups my pussy boldly, hisses, then spears three fingers inside me without any preamble.
“Hmm. Look how fucking wet someone is. Did the fight turn you on as much as it turned me on? Does my little Flame like some primal-play?”
I have no idea what he’s saying; I’m entirely consumed by the shattering sensation of his fingers thrusting in and out of me, hard and fast, each thrust brutal but not punishing.
Being owned this way, after it’s been fairly earned, is incredible.
I feel weightless, like I’m floating somewhere in the upper atmosphere.
“You’re so turned on you’re barely coherent,” he muses. “Note to self: Flame is a fan of primal play.” He leans down until his lips hover by my ear. “Are you ready to get fucked?”
I nod, tugging instinctively at my wrists. I don’t actually want to be freed, I just need something to do with all of this energy. Max tightens his hold, and I clench around his finger, pulling a rough chuckle out of him.
“Too bad, because I’m not ready to fuck you yet.
I’m savoring this win, Ember. I might be an animal, but I’m not a savage.
I can thoroughly enjoy my meal.” He pulls his fingers out of me and flips me over onto my back.
“If you move an inch, I’m going to bind you so tight you can barely wince.
” He stares at me, letting that message sink in.
“Right now, I’m going to enjoy you, and you are not going to get in the way of that. Are we clear?”
I nod.
“Good.” He wrenches my thighs apart, closes a hand over my throat, and slides his fingers back inside me. “So much fucking nectar you’re seeping for me. I’m going to drink you dry.”
Fuck, his dirty-talk. I can’t profess to be sexually experienced whatsoever, but I also can’t imagine that sex is usually anything like this. He’s only just started touching me, and I’m already about to come. I think he could talk me to an orgasm if he really tried.
“First…” He leans over me and bites my nipple.
Hard. Hard enough that he’s just shy of breaking skin, and then, he begins to suck, soothing away the hurt.
I cry out at the delicious sensations, nearly going out of my mind.
I writhe on the bed, and that’s when he stops.
Pulls away. Gives me a look that says you’re fucked.
“Don’t. Fucking. Move.”
“I can’t keep still!” I protest.
“Do you want me to help you with that?” he tilts his head to the side, curiosity flashing through his eyes.
I hesitate. His earlier warning was that he’d bind me so tight I couldn’t wince. I don’t know how he’d go about that, but I’m sure he’s capable. Maybe if I agree, however…
“How tight?”
“Enough to keep you in place. Your wrists.” He gently circles them. “I’ll bind them together and above your head. If you agree, feel free to wriggle around as much as you want—I’ll just hold the parts of you I need still down.”
He says it with such breathtakingly easy confidence, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. I know I’m strong—I’ve fought and killed enough men bigger than him to know it—but we both know he’s stronger than me.
What’s more, he’s earned me. I’ll give him this willingly.
I nod. “Be gentle.”
His lips twist into a sneaky smile. “Binding you is the only gentleness you’ll get from me tonight, Flame.
And trust me when I say, it’s a selfish move on my part.
Lucky for you, my victory has put me in a good mood, and you’ll be the recipient of my generosity.
I’m going to make you orgasm until you’re hoarse from screaming and limp from coming. ”
He bites my nipple again, pulling another squeal out of me, and slinks out of the room. He returns a few minutes later, holding a long strip of silky-looking fabric between his fingers, kind of like a tie but larger. He climbs onto the bed, straddles me, and says, “Hands.”
I offer them freely. He loops the silk around my wrists, again and again, tying beautiful, intricate knots until I’m well and truly bound.
Then, he stretches them above my head and ties another knot around the headboard, trapping me.
I tug at them a little, and my breath hitches when I realize they’re tied well.
I’m not going anywhere until he lets me go.
He sits back on his haunches and rubs a hand over his jaw, eyes fluttering as he looks me up and down, over and over again, like he can’t get enough of me.
It makes me feel beautiful.
“Spread your legs. Place your feet on the bed, knees bent. Show me your dripping pussy.”
I hesitate, a sudden wave of shyness sweeping over me. I’m bound, naked, and vulnerable on his bed, yet having him ask me to present myself is what actually does me in.
“Ember.” The word is a warning and promise wrapped in satin.
I follow instructions. He gazes at my pussy hungrily. Inhales a sharp breath that comes fluttering out as a low groan, and leans down. Presses his nose to my core. Inhales my scent.
We both moan at the same time.
He clasps my thighs, flattening them on the bed, and nuzzles the crease where my thigh meets my center. “Fuck, I could get high on your scent.” He presses a featherlight kiss to my clit. “And your taste. I get high on everything about you, and I have for much longer than I’d admit to either of us.”
His mouth latches to my pussy, sucking one of my lower lips into his mouth and gently nipping at it.
I tug at the bindings, arching, and let out a shocked cry when he scrapes the nail of his thumb down my clit.
“I said I’d hold you down,” he says, words partially muted. “I didn’t say how I’d do it, Flame.”
His tongue spears inside of me so suddenly I nearly lose my mind entirely.
His hands clamp down on my thighs again, nails digging into my soft skin, and the bridge of his nose rubs against my clit.
He’s not shy about the act—he doesn’t mind the wetness that smears his entire face. In fact, it seems to invigorate him.
Watching him, between my thighs, seeming to get off on my taste singlehandedly has to be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.
I release a loud, resounding moan when his lips find my clit and work it between them, occasionally stopping to run his tongue up and down it.
A cry is caught in my throat as my orgasm peaks, and just then, he bites my clit.
I scream, so loud and hoarse it almost hurts as he sucks away the sting and slams three fingers inside of me, scissoring them to stretch me out. I bury my face in my arm and scream again, writhing like a fish out of water, panting, on the verge of begging him to ease up.
I don’t need to. As soon as my orgasm ebbs, I realize his patience has reached an end. He rears back, flips me to my front, and pulls my ass in the air—a position that seems to be a favorite of his.
“I know you said you haven’t been fucked, but how many men have touched this pussy?” he demands, cupping me possessively. It sounds like he’s really asking, how many men am I going to kill?
Regardless, the answer is the same. I whisper it into the bedsheets because it’s embarrassing. “None.”
He freezes. His fingers go lax. Then, he twirls a rope of my hair over his fist and uses it as a handle to turn my head sideways. “Say that again.”
I shake my head, trying to bury it in the bedsheets again.
“No defiance.” He gives my ass a spank to punctuate his point. “Repeat that, Ember.”
“None!” I snap.
There’s a long, long pause that follows my admission. I almost wish I could see his face so I could read his expression, but at the same time, I’m happy I can’t. It’d be too much.
“None?” he breathes. “Not… not anyone? Not him?”