Page 90

I rub my aching breasts against his chest and revel in the quiver that rushes through my belly. “Hmm, the second one. And I’m more than a little horny.”

“You want me to do something about that, baby?” he croons into my ear.

“Yes, please.”

One hand spreads over my back and pulls me deeper into his body. The rod of his cock prods hard into my belly. “Yes, please, what?”

“Please, sir. Make the ache go away.”

His hand moves from my back to my hair and captures a sheaf in a punishing hold. He pulls me by the hair until my face hangs over his, and we stare deep into each other’s eyes. “Ask me again,” he commands tightly.

“I want you. So badly I hurt everywhere. Fuck me, sir. Please fuck me and make the pain go away.”

He shuts his eyes for a second. “Christ. You know how perfect you could be?”

Could be?Something fragile cracks open and oozes fuck knows what inside me. “No, I don’t, because perfection is an illusion.”

His mouth twists without regret. “That it is. But fucking you isn’t.”

My senses leap a mile high. “No. Yes. Do it, please.”

His fist clenches until my scalp burns. “Fuck, I get so damn hard when you beg.”

I groan, and my eager hand slips down his hot torso to delve beneath the cover. He captures my wrist before I reach my goal.

“Did I say you could touch me, kitten?”

So that’s the game we’re playing? Okay. I slowly circle my lips with my wet tongue and try to look suitably contrite, while impatience and need burn me alive. “I’m sorry, sir. Permission to stroke your cock, sir.”

“Permission denied.” He lets go of me and slaps his hand against the headboard. “Get up here,” he instructs and lunges out of bed.

I raise myself on my elbows, alone and adrift in my confusion.

Like everything on theIL Indulgence, the furniture design is elegantly simple, but luxuriously comfortable. There’s nothing about the steel headboard that promises me relief from the increasing ball of agony between my legs.

“Umm… why?”

“Keely,” he warns.

“I’m sorry… sir. I just don’t understand how the headboard will give me what I need.”

My mind zeroes in on whatwill, and I groan helplessly.

A smile splits his face that catches at my heartstrings. “You don’t trust me to give you what you need?”

“I do, but…” The plaintive note in my voice irritates me, but this is what he’s reduced me to. I clear my throat. “I don’t want it to be dragged out. Sir.”

He thinks for a minute, and his gaze gentles. “It won’t be. Not this time. I’ll make you come in under three minutes. Does that work for you?”

I nod eagerly.

“Then get up on your knees and hold tight to the headboard.”

I comply with pathetically wanton enthusiasm. When he walks backward to the dresser, I hold my breath. I watch him open the drawer and pull out a familiar box. It’s the one he gave me yesterday that I never got round to opening.

Anticipation tingles up my spine as I track his return.

When he climbs onto the bed behind me, it takes supreme effort not to reach for him. But I’ve learned that compliance brings quicker gratification than defying my dominant lover.