57. Ivory
Fresh from a quick shower, Ivory swung her legs and wiggled atop the stool, waiting as directed. Adrian hadn’t told her what he planned. Only that he was taking charge, and she held no reservations.
Her heart settled into a steady rhythm. She’d normally feel small like this, left naked and alone, but a peaceful ease stilled her wandering thoughts. Adrian deserved her patience as well as her time.
Here, he could take whatever he asked for. In this space, his will was final, allowing all her worries to melt away. Spring break and the Dragons faded from her mind as goosebumps rippled over her arms. Whips of air chased shivers up her thighs, and she flexed her toes. Exposed, her nipples puckered into tight, rosy points. Her eyes turned to the bedroom door.
The apartment was quiet. Too quiet. Endorphins thrummed through her veins as their last weekend replayed in her mind. Now that she’d sent him her list of limits, both what she redlined and what she wanted, he knew her darkest desires.
She had nothing left to hide.
Despite being cut off from each other while he prepared, she could sense his longing as clearly as her own. How his body and mind yearned for her as much as she did for him. How she could please him simply by existing and how he protected her merely by keeping her heart.
The doorknob turned, and her black knight pinned her with a dark look that sent a jolt straight to her clit. His lips curled in a knowing smirk. “Trying to figure out what I have planned for you?” He tsked and closed the door before she could catch a glimpse of anything beyond. “That won’t do.”
She flushed as his eyes roamed over her body, assessing with cool authority. With unquestioning ownership.
Braving a look of her own, she took in the cascade of his sleek, auburn hair, falling over broad shoulders and the exposed, hard planes of his pecs. He’d left his jeans on, outlining a growing bulge between his legs. No one else would notice the extra holes carved in his belt, but to her, they stood out like two deep puncture wounds. Like bite marks left by a fanged beast.
The full weight of his attention bore down as he stalked forward with the grace and prowess of a wild panther. She felt small. Powerless.
Adrian stepped between her thighs and eased them apart, calloused palms deliberate in their steady command. Her glistening pussy was on full display, tits poked out like a lewd offering, but his focus lifted to her face.
“You are a masterpiece,” he breathed.
The praise coiled low in her belly and heated her from the inside out. Unable to speak, she inhaled his scent—spicy and warm, intimately arousing.
His lips twitched up in a smile that was half in awe and half condescending. He rubbed circles into the inside of her thighs as he continued, “Mine to bend and break. Mine to please and cherish.”
His voice held a rough, possessive edge, and she bit back a grin.
Light and shadow glittered in the gold of his eyes as he reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. The slight graze of his fingertips made her heart race, and her eyelids fluttered.
“Stand up and turn around, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Let me braid your hair. We wouldn’t want it to get in the way.”
Wordlessly, she obeyed and slid off the stool. His calculated gentleness both soothed and sowed seeds of apprehension. The calm before the storm.
After all, they both knew what she’d asked for.
Back turned, Adrian gathered her hair and expertly wove it into a snug braid. Electricity ran up and down her spine in delicious currents. His fingers feathered across her neck as he worked, ghosting caresses here and there. Her ass brushed against the button of his pants, but she resisted the urge to push back. A punishment wouldn’t be nearly as exciting as whatever he already planned.
Her eyes drifted closed, and she honed in on his steady breaths, on the heat radiating from his body, and the assurance of being in his presence. As long as she remembered this feeling, she could find peace anywhere. Have the courage to face any trial.
“Feel good?” He gave her hair a light tug.
She smiled. “Yes, sir.”
“One last thing.” He stepped away, and the bedroom door opened again. When his footsteps returned, something smooth slipped over her eyes. He tied it tight behind her head, and it held her eyelids shut. Her other senses tingled with awareness as her sight vanished.
The ribbon.
“Today, I’ll let you earn the last two inches.” His words came out crisp, giving away nothing as to what that might entail. These were the last, and two at a time—it wouldn’t be easy. But she was determined to earn each one. “Do you trust me?”
“I trust you with my life, sir,” she purred. In every sense.
A pleased hum resonated from the back of his throat as another ripple of arousal flooded her thighs.
“Then it’s your life I will play with." Her breath caught as something cold and pointed ran over her shoulder blade. It traveled down her spine and wound over her hip, leaving behind a faint sting. A blade?
She groaned. When she’d put his knife on her list, she hadn’t been sure how Adrian would take it, but clearly, he had no objections.
“I won’t be holding back, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I intend to carve out your soul and claim it for myself.”
Her next inhale came out shallow and uneven. She’d wanted pain with pleasure. Poison with the sweet. Icy bitterness mixed with the hot demand of dominance. But knowing it would come didn’t dull its effect. “It’s yours,” she whispered. “I’m yours, sir.”
“You are,” he promised in a dark, silken hum. His fingers wrapped around her shoulder and guided her to face him, though she couldn’t appreciate the sight with the ribbon tied over her eyes. “I’m going to show you exactly what that means.”
The knife swirled over her stomach. Her muscles retracted at its sharp touch, blood pulling to the surface. Then it was gone.
Soft, wet lips closed around her nipple. She groaned and arched into the touch. Pleasure consumed her fear of the blade. He kissed over to her other breast, licking and sucking the hard bud before skating up to her jaw. Her body melted, coalescing without hesitation.
Hot puffs of breath warmed her skin as he tasted her for his pleasure. Teasing as she’d done earlier. His lips were slow to meet hers, instead lingering where he saw fit and savoring the spots he found particularly sweet—the hinge of her jaw, the blunt tip of her chin, the pout of her bottom lip.
Finally, his tongue flickered into her mouth, and the world spun sideways. She reached up to grab onto something, anything to keep her from tumbling over. What she found was his waist, the firm furrows of his abdomen, and the soft cotton of his shirt. Her fingers moved on their own accord, dipping under his clothes to admire his tight skin and the muscled chest that hardened under her fingertips.
His mouth grew greedier. Ravenous. Gripping her face, his fingers pushed into the hollow of her cheeks and forced her mouth open wide. He held her still as he sought out every crevice and secret as if to prove each belonged to him.
She raked her nails through the tufts of coarse hair on his chest and pressed her palm to his heart. Passion sparked in the small gap separating their bodies, filling her with hunger. Fueling her fire until it roared.
“Enough,” he rasped, breaking their contact with a shudder. He circled her wrists and pulled them out of his shirt, placing them at her side.
She panted to catch her breath, then perked up at the clink of metal and a quick slide of leather. His belt had been freed.
Its cool length snaked around her neck, and Adrian pulled it taut until the cold buckle nestled against her pulse.
“Come,” he ordered with a tug.
Stepping forward, she followed his voice and the patient pull of the leash. They’d been no more than a handful of steps from the bedroom, but he led her to the left instead, twisting and turning until she lost track of where they might be. Had the apartment always been this big and spacious? Her steps became wary, oriented only by his movements and the magnetism of their connection.
A door closed behind her, and she startled with a jump. How had they ended up in his room?
Adrian dropped the end of the belt and let the end fall on her chest. “Take a step back to reach the door,” he instructed. “Lean against it.”
Anticipation diluted her jumbled reality. She shuffled, then felt straps dangling between her skin and the hardwood door. The air began to buzz, swirling around her as she focused all her energy on her black knight. Her world reduced to him alone, body filled only by the sensations he granted.
“I bought us something new for today,” he continued. “Could hardly wait to get you all tied up.” He picked up her wrists and slipped them into a strap one at a time, tightening the loop until her hands could turn but wouldn’t easily fall out. Her fingers curled around the thick woven fabric and found it secured to the door above her head.
“I’m going to pick you up and secure your legs,” he warned. His hands slipped under her thighs, biceps bunching as he lifted and set her into a padded strap. Once he helped her get balanced, he fit a bigger loop under her leg above the knee and ensured it was snug.
The strap pulled her thigh over to the bedroom door, and after he repeated the process on the other side, she found herself spread wide, hanging from strings like a puppet. The belt still hung loose around her neck, and it all effectively gave him control over every part of her, able to move or restrain her limbs at a whim.
He hummed, voice deliciously low. An appreciative growl. “You’re so pretty like this.” His hand smoothed between her pert breasts, moving down her stomach and settling over her womb. “All pink and wet for me.”
She didn’t need to see it for herself, her pulse echoing between her legs.
He spread her wide with his fingers, and she held her breath. The swell of her clit must be visible, her need more than pathetic—a display of desperation for her Sir, a surrender to his mercy—yet she still wanted to beg for his touch.
The knife trailed up her inner thigh. All the air left her lungs, abdomen tensing at its cold, cruel edge. It traced an unpredictable pattern to her hip, then snaked down and stopped just short of her pubic hair.
A short tap came down on her clit. Shock tore through her like a bullet of acetic relief, but the backside of the blade vanished as quickly as it came.
She groaned and let her head fall against the door. The belt tugged at her throat. Her desire bent in two, instinct demanding she hide and protect herself from the threat while the rest of her thrummed with arousal. Pleasure from being at the receiving end of a weapon, of a tool used to inflict pain and suffering.
“That’s my good girl,” Adrian praised. “Doesn’t it feel good to be my little doll? A plaything for my personal use?”
The knife tapped her left nipple, achingly hard and erect.
“Yes,” she whispered as molten heat spread through her veins. “Thank you, sir.”
A tap to her right nipple.
Her hips slanted forward as much as the restraints would allow, succumbing to the sensation and her growing desire. “Please, sir,” she whimpered.
“Aw, already begging so pretty for me.” The blade lay flat against her clit, its throbbing an unbearable rhythm that drowned out every other thought. He held her spread open as her body warmed the metal, then he tipped the sharp edge away and slid the knife over her bundle of nerves. “Say my name when you come.”
The knife lifted, then tapped her again and again, relentless as she squirmed and panted. His attacks were direct and steady, unyielding and swift.
“Adrian, sir. Please—” Her tongue twisted around his name as the orgasm rippled down to her bones. A chorus of bright, shimmering fireworks lit up her cells and flared brilliant light throughout her core. She slumped, grateful for the straps to keep her in place.
The knife vanished, and her knight leaned in to bite her lip. His bulge pressed against her sensitive flesh, and he licked along the inside of her mouth as if he could taste his name tangled up her pleasure. Then he replaced his mouth with metal—warm and slick, coated in her cum.
“Open.” He pressed the flat of the blade to her mouth. She parted her lips, high on dopamine and serotonin. “Good girl. Now lick. Show me your tongue.”
She traced the blunt end of the knife, tasting herself and the metallic tang of the blade. The saccharine flavor of sin. Adrian’s thumb covered the sharp edge, and she indulged in tasting him, too, flicking the rough skin of his finger as she hummed in satisfaction.
“Greedy girl,” he scolded without pulling away, steel cock twitching inside his jeans. “Nibbling on my hand with that sweet mouth. If you needed more, you should’ve asked.” He pulled away and slipped a thick finger in her pussy, pushing into the slick, swollen channel and curing against the spot that made her see stars. He groaned as she squirmed. “Fuck. It’s like you’re trying to swallow me up.”
She would if he wanted.
His finger continued to rock inside, coaxing her out of bliss and back into the realm of want and deprivation.
“Damn, this cunt needs to be stretched, doesn’t it?” he breathed. “Needs to be molded just how I like.” Her pussy gave a flutter of acquiescence. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. But I have to save my cock for later, so we’re going to use something else to fill you up.”