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In Ari’s moment of weakness, Sloane moved like a toxin in her veins, slow but precise. She climbed up over her, pushing her up the bed like an unstoppable tide.

Sloane straddled her hips before placing her hands on either side of her head. “I let you win yesterday so you wouldn’t be all pouty,” she said, voice low and dangerous before taking Ari’s hands and holding them above her head.

“Let me?” Ari laughed before craning her face up to capture Sloane’s nipple in her mouth as Sloane leaned over her, tying her wrists together and tethering her to the headboard.

Sloane squirmed away from her mouth, but not before she sighed. Ari grinned. If Sloane wanted to believe she hadn’t

topped her fair and square, she would let her.

“Do I need a safe word?” Ari joked when Sloane was finished securing her to the headboard.

“Yeah,” Sloane stretched out next to her. “It’s stop.”

As soon as Sloane’s teeth found her neck, Ari stopped laughing. With every hard kiss and wandering touch, Ari’s body grew hotter. She tried not to react, even as Sloane moaned against her ear and whispered husky promises of future pleasure. She wanted to show her she was in control even with her hands bound.

Ari’s resolve degraded as Sloane climbed on top of her, slipping her hips between Ari’s thighs as she parted them.

The restraints bit into Ari’s skin as she struggled against them. No matter how much she willed herself free to touch Sloane, she couldn’t.

Sloane finished running the tip of her tongue around her nipple, her expression devilish as she glanced at Ari. “Ready to say die?”

Biting the inside of her cheek instead of admitting defeat, Ari held her gaze.

“So stubborn.” Sloane smirked before running her long tongue down the center of her abdomen. She stopped only to leave small red marks with her teeth along the way. Each scrape was a surging current of need pushing Ari closer to the edge.

Despite her best e orts to keep still, Ari’s hips jerked and dipped against Sloane’s chest. Sloane’s mouth lingered on her hip bone. She didn’t even try to hide her delight at Ari’s torture.

By the time Sloane finally kissed a meandering line down her thigh, Ari was ready to admit she was desperate for her.

The marks forming around her wrists probably said it all.

Hovering just above her aching, wet center, Sloane licked her lips. It was all Ari could stand.

“Please,” she whispered into the morning light as she stared at Sloane’s face between her thighs. A mental picture she hoped never to forget.

Without breaking eye contact, Sloane slipped the tips of two fingers in her mouth and ran them lightly down Ari’s entrance. “Please, what?”

At the barely-there contact, Ari’s eyes slammed shut. She willed the pressure to increase, but Sloane’s fingertips explored her so lightly, she wondered if she was imagining it. There was no imagining the throbbing desire growing by the second.

When Sloane grew tired of tormenting her with her fingers, she added her tongue. Ari pushed against the tie cutting the circulation to her hands. She wanted to tangle her fingers in Sloane’s hair. To guide her mouth where she needed it.

Sloane was unresponsive to her cries. They only made her move more slowly. She used her tongue in erratic and inconsistent ways, like she was catching melting ice cream slipping down a cone on a scorching hot day. It was maddening.

“I didn’t do this to you,” Ari whined, lifting her lower body o the bed as if she might trick Sloane into ending the game.

“Are you ready to admit that I let you win?” Sloane asked before taking a long, slow swipe with her tongue just for show. It sent Ari’s head reeling.

“Fine, if that’s what you want to hear,” she groaned.

“You win. You won. Whatever, just please—”

“I didn’t ask for a false confession,” Sloane interrupted, running her fingertip along Ari’s entrance again, making her wish she’d just do something for long enough to relieve the pressure building in Ari’s body.

Ari gritted her teeth. “I didn’t know you let me win,” she admitted, unsure if that was true or not, but it was the best she could do with a barely functioning brain.

“I could accept that,” Sloane replied before taking another long, lazy taste. “I just don’t know how generous I’m feeling.”

Ari fought the urge to cry. “If you untie me, I’ll do it myself.”