Chapter 35
GRACE
My breath catches as Asher’s gaze sweeps over me. The amber lighting casts shadows across his sharp jawline, and my heart races as he steps closer, his presence commanding even in the silence.
“I want this off.” Gripping the hem of my dress, he tugs it up and over my head before discarding it. I’m left in crimson-red lingerie I bought with Kacey, the cool air raising goosebumps on my skin.
His eyes skim over my body, and my skin heats under his gaze. It travels back up to the pearl collar around my neck. A symbol of his ownership. My thighs clench at the thought of being his completely.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, stepping closer to me so his hand can brush along my collarbone, tracing the edge of the pearls. “And mine.”
My entire body flushes hot, reveling in the way he looks at me, the things he says, and craving more of his touch.
But he doesn't give it to me. Not yet. He moves to a sleek black box on a nearby table, pulling out a collection of toys that make my pulse skip.
A length of silk rope emerges first, followed by a feather tickler and a small, textured paddle.
I swallow roughly as he approaches, the rope dangling from his grip.
“Arms behind your back,” he instructs, and I comply, the silk cool against my wrists as he binds them tightly, knotting with precision.
The restraint sends a shiver through me, the loss of control both thrilling and terrifying.
He steps in front of me, his fingers tilting my chin up to meet his steel-gray stare.
Darkness envelops me as Asher slips a blindfold over my eyes, the fabric soft but unyielding, removing the amber glow of the suite.
My world narrows to sound and sensation.
His steady breaths behind me, the faint rustle of silk rope against my bound wrists.
My pulse hammers in my ears as his hand, firm and guiding, presses against my lower back, steering me forward.
The floor shifts under my bare feet until he stops me with a murmured command.
“Lean forward.” His voice is a low growl, vibrating with intent.
I bend at the waist, my chest pressing into the cushioned edge of what must be a chair, the sleek leather cool against my heated skin.
My bound arms pull taut behind me, heightening every nerve.
I hear the soft tap of something being set down, then a wisp of movement before a feather-light touch dances across my spine.
It glides over my shoulders, down the curve of my back, teasing more shivers from me.
My breath hitches, a desperate whine escaping as the sensation builds, maddeningly gentle yet electric.
Then, a sharp contrast, the textured paddle grazes my thigh, a warning of intensity, driving me wild.
Asher’s breath brushes my ear, warm and deliberate, as the touch vanishes, replaced by a sudden stillness.
I strain against the blindfold, listening eagerly for his next move.
The soft sound of his footsteps recedes, leaving me in a void of anticipation, my body tense and aching for contact.
Then he’s back, the air shifting with his presence, and a low, mechanical hum cuts through the silence.
“Spread your legs for me, Sugar,” he commands, his voice a dark caress that sends heat pooling low in my belly. I obey, widening my stance, the vulnerability making my pulse race faster.
The vibration hits my clit with a relentless buzz, stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before.
It’s overpowering, a tidal wave of pleasure that steals my breath, my knees buckling against the cushioned edge I’m bent over.
A desperate moan tears from my throat, raw and unfiltered, as the toy presses harder.
“That’s it, take it,” he growls, his words dripping with possession. "It feels good being mine, huh? I can bring you so much pleasure, but I own every shiver, every fucking gasp. I own every orgasm that comes from this sweet cunt. Right, Sugar?"
"Y-Yes, Sir," I whimper, the honorific slipping out on instinct as my body trembles under the assault of sensation. He drags me to the edge, the pressure building to a shattering peak, only to pull the vibrator away at the last second. I cry out, frustrated and needy, my hips pushing back for more.
“Not yet,” he taunts, his voice thick with amusement. “I’m going to make you beg for it. I want that pretty little body of yours to shake until you can’t think of anything but me. Tell me who you belong to, Grace.”
“You, Sir,” I say through a shaky gasp as he presses the toy back against me, the vibration a wicked promise. He repeats the cycle, pushing me to the brink, then stopping, his dirty whispers weaving through the haze of arousal.
“You’re mine to tease, mine to break. Mine. Look at you, dripping for me, so desperate to come. Beg me for it, Sugar. Let me hear how much you need it.”
“Please, Sir,” I sob, every muscle pulled tight, my mind a blur of raw want. “Please, let me come. I need it. I need you. P-Please.”
My voice cracks on the plea as the vibrations against my clit pulse harder, a relentless wave that threatens to drown me. Asher’s presence looms behind me, a force as unyielding as the toy he wields, his control wrapping around me tighter than the restraints.
“Such a pretty little mess you’re making, Sugar,” he purrs, his taunting slithering down my spine and settling between my legs.
“But I’ve got something else for you. I'm going to make you come so hard you’ll forget how to breathe.
” I hear the faint click of a cap, a slick sound that sends a jolt of nervous anticipation through me.
“I’m gonna fill that tight ass of yours with a plug, stretch you out while this buzzes on your clit. You want that, don’t you?”
I hiss out a breath, my body tensing at the thought, a mix of trepidation and raw desire coiling in my core. My mind spins, but my body betrays me, hips twitching toward the vibrator’s torment, willing to take whatever he gives me.
“Beg for it, Grace,” he demands. “Tell me how bad you want me to claim every fucking part of you.”
“Please, Sir,” I whimper immediately. “Please put the plug in my ass. I need it. I need you to take me there. Please, do it.”
“Good girl,” he growls, satisfaction dripping from his voice.
I hear the wet glide of lube, then feel the cold, slick tip of the plug pressing against me.
My breath catches as he eases it in, the stretch burning at first, a sharp intrusion that makes me gasp.
But the vibrator on my clit hums stronger now, morphing the discomfort into waves of delicious pleasure.
The fullness of the plug, paired with the relentless buzz, overwhelms every thought, leaving me a quivering mess.
“That’s it, Sugar, take it all,” Asher whispers, his breath hot against my ear as the plug seats itself fully, a heavy presence that makes me feel utterly claimed.
“Feel how I own you, every inch, every hole. You’re dripping for me, so fucking wet, so ready to come nice and hard. Come for me now. Let me hear it.”
Bound and blindfolded, all I have is his voice, demanding and praising at the same time, and that’s all it takes to ignite me, pushing me over the edge.
I cry out, a broken scream tearing from my throat as my body convulses, orgasm barreling through me with violent force.
The dual sensations, vibrator on my clit and a plug filling me, amplify every shudder, every pulse, until I’m nothing but raw sensation, lost in the storm of his control.
But he doesn’t stop. The vibrator stays pressed against me, even as I thrash, oversensitive and gasping, my thighs trembling uncontrollably. “No, no, you don’t get to rest yet,” he taunts. “I want you to come again. Look at you, shaking for me, so fucking perfect. Tell me you want more.”
“Sir, please, it’s too much—” I stammer, but he cuts me off with a sadistic chuckle, cranking the vibrator’s intensity higher.
“Too much? Oh, Sugar, you can take it. You’re mine, remember? Beg me for another. Beg me to ruin you.” His hand grips my hip, holding me steady as I writhe, the plug shifting inside me with every movement, adding layers of sensation I can’t escape.
“Please, Sir, let me come again,” I sob, tears soaking the edges of the blindfold, unadulterated need overtaking the protest, my body no longer my own. “Ruin me, please! I’m yours.”
The second climax hits harder, my scream muffled against the cushion as I collapse into it.
He doesn’t relent, pushing me through a third as he whispers in my ear, “That’s my filthy girl, soaking for me, we're gonna keep doing this until you can’t stand." The vibrations continue, dragging me under again until I’m a convulsing heap, liquid heat dripping down my thighs, utterly spent.
Only then does the vibrator finally stop.
I pant, dazed, as Asher’s hands roam my trembling body, gentle now, almost reverent.
He eases the plug slightly, playing with it, tugging just enough to make me moan, a raspy sound that barely resembles my voice.
“I'm going to fuck you now, Sugar,” he murmurs, his tone rough with hunger. "Scream my name when you come again.”
I feel him position himself, the heat of his arousal pressing against my entrance, and then he thrusts in, deep and hard, the fullness of the plug amplifying every stroke.
I moan, loud and unrestrained, as he sets a punishing rhythm, one hand toying with the plug, pulling and pushing in sync with his thrusts.
“Asher!” I scream, the pressure building impossibly fast, my body a live wire.
“That’s it, Sugar, come on my cock. Let me feel you,” he growls, and I do, shattering around him with a cry, my walls clenching tight.
Moments later, he pulls out, and the sound of the condom being ripped off echoes in the room before I feel the hot spurt of his release across my back, a final mark of possession as he groans, low and guttural.
We stay like that for a few minutes, my body slumped and boneless, his hands steadying me as the aftershocks ripple and make me twitch and whimper.
The blindfold still darkens my world, but I feel his presence, intense and grounding, as he begins to untie the silk rope from my wrists and removes the blindfold.
Then he pulls the plug from my ass slowly and discards it somewhere.
Asher's arms slide beneath me, lifting me effortlessly from the cushioned chair. My legs dangle, useless and trembling, as he carries me through the suite. I feel the shift in temperature when we enter the bathroom, the tile cool beneath my feet when he sets me down briefly.
"Stay still," he murmurs, his hands steadying me at the waist.
Warm water runs somewhere behind me, the sound echoing off marble.
His touch returns, a soft cloth gliding across my back in careful strokes.
The sticky evidence of his release disappears with each pass, his movements methodical yet tender.
Something shifts in my chest at the way his fingers trace my spine like I'm something precious rather than something used.
The water shuts off. Steam rises, warming my skin. After, he carries me to a massive soaking tub filled with hot water and a lavender fragrance. He steps in first, then guides me between his legs, settling me back against his chest. Arms circling my waist, he anchors me as I sink into the heat.
My body feels disconnected, floating somewhere between exhaustion and bliss. My thoughts drift, untethered, as his fingers draw lazy patterns along my ribs.
"Breathe, Sugar," he says against my temple, his voice softer than I've ever heard it. "Just breathe."
I try, pulling air into my lungs in shallow gasps that gradually deepen. His heartbeat thuds steadily against my back, a rhythm my own begins to match. Minutes pass, I can't tell how many. The water laps over my skin soothingly as feeling gradually returns to my limbs.
"How do you feel?" His question rumbles through his chest.
"I don't know," I whisper, hoarse and small. Overwhelmed. Claimed. Terrified. Safe. The contradictions tangle in my throat, impossible to voice.
His grip tightens fractionally. "That's okay. You don't have to know yet."
I close my eyes, letting my head fall back against his shoulder. His fingers trace the pearls still circling my neck, a possessive touch that sends a shiver through me despite the bath's heat.
Something fundamental has changed between us, something I can't name or take back.
And I'm not sure I want to.