Page 53

"You keep tongue-fucking those fingers, little storm, and I'm going to start wondering if you're begging me to put something else in your mouth," he rasps, voice dripping with dark promise.

My heart pounds traitorously at his blunt, heated words, but I force myself to sneer. "Careful, Rule. Your desperation is showing. Who knew a pastry could unravel you so quickly?"

His hand tightens around my wrists, pressing them roughly back against the headboard, chains clinking softly as tension coils tighter between us. "Desperate?" he growls softly, amusement threaded with danger. "You're the one moaning like you're about to climax over a pastry. Keep it up, and I'll make sure your next moan is my name."

"Bold assumption," I retort breathlessly, narrowing my eyes even as my pulse betrays me. "But I've had better offers."

He chuckles darkly, leaning in even closer, his mask grazing the sensitive skin beneath my jaw. "Lie to yourself all you want, Seanna. Your body tells the truth."

I laugh bitterly, trying and failing to pull away from his grip. "You're still delusional I see."

"And you're a terrible liar," he counters, his free hand sliding down to my thigh, the leather of his glove scorching hot against my skin. "Or did you really think I couldn't see how much you enjoyed teasing me?"

My voice shakes slightly as I fight to maintain control. "Maybe I just enjoy seeing you squirm."

"Interesting choice of words," he murmurs, voice impossibly deep, almost hypnotic. His hand drifts higher, dangerously close to where my body is already traitorously responding. "Because squirming is exactly what you're going to be doing soon if you keep pushing."

I swallow hard, fighting the heat rising to my cheeks, the ache building between my thighs. "You talk a big game, Rule. But so far, all you've given me is cold coffee and pastries."

His low, wicked laughter vibrates against my throat. "Oh, darling, if you're craving something hotter, all you have to do isbeg."

"I'd ratherbite," I snarl, though my breath betrays how much his touch is affecting me.

"I'm counting on it," he responds smoothly, drawing back just enough to look into my face through his dark lenses. His thumb brushes deliberately over my inner thigh, dragging dangerously close to where I desperately want him and absolutely shouldn't. "Though you might find I bite back even harder."

My head spins, but pride keeps me defiant. "Big talk for a man hiding behind a mask."

"You want the mask off, Seanna?" he taunts, voice dripping with smug dominance. "Earn it."

"And here I thought kidnapping was your twisted form of foreplay," I fire back, trying and failing to steady my racing heart.

He chuckles, his hand slowly sliding higher again, this time pressing between my thighs, his leather-clad fingers firm and bold through the fabric of my panties.

"Oh, darling, you haven't even begun to see twisted yet," he murmurs, his voice dripping with dark intent as he presses harder, dragging a soft, involuntary gasp from my throat.

My pulse surges, heart hammering as I struggle to hold onto my defiance. "You're bluffing," I breathe, my voice betraying the tremor I’m fighting so hard to hide.

He leans even closer, the cold of his mask ghosting across my jaw as his fingers slowly, maddeningly circle the spot that's rapidly becoming my undoing. "Am I?" he rasps, voice low, arrogant. "Or maybe I’ve already figured you out, little storm. Maybe I know exactly what fantasies keep you awake at night."

My cheeks burn with furious embarrassment even as my hips shift instinctively against his touch. "You don't know shit about what I want," I bite out, desperately grasping onto anger as a lifeline.

"Oh no?" He increases the pressure just enough to have me inhaling sharply, pulse stuttering traitorously. "Then tell me—what is it that gets you off when you’re alone in the dark, hmm? What depraved little fantasies make you squirm? What were you thinking during those pretty little shows you put on for us?"

"Go fuck yourself," I hiss, though the words come out breathless and weak, sounding more like a plea than a protest.

He laughs softly, clearly enjoying my struggle. "Not a bad suggestion, but I'd rather fuckyou. Better yet, I'd rather you admit what you secretly crave."

My defiance surges, but his teasing fingers steal my breath, robbing me of any coherent retort. His touch slows to a torturous pace, lingering right on the brink of pleasure, keeping me aching and desperate. He leans forward again, the cool mask brushing against the hot sensitive skin under my jaw as he takes a deep breath, smelling me.

"Maybe it's something forbidden," he whispers against my throat, gloved fingertips pressing insistently, coaxing my hips to roll involuntarily against him. "Something dark and twisted—like waking up already being fucked, helpless and trapped beneath someone powerful enough to take exactly what he wants. Maybe that’s what had you turned on when I woke you the other night. Why you keep pushing us into this predicament right here..."

My breath catches audibly, betraying me completely, heat flushing my skin from head to toe.Fuck.

He chuckles triumphantly, stroking more deliberately, confident in his control. "There it is," he murmurs wickedly, voice dripping with satisfaction. "Tell me I'm wrong, Seanna. Tell me you haven't imagined being taken, fucked while you're asleep—waking up with someone already deep inside you, taking you hard, using you exactly as he pleases."

I close my eyes, mortification and desire twisting violently inside me. "Stop," I manage weakly, even though every nerve ending in my traitorous body begs for more.

"Stop?" he echoes mockingly, his tone sugary sweet, his fingers slowing to a torturously teasing pace again, leaving me dangerously close to breaking. "But you're practically begging for it. So tell me the truth—have you ever touched yourself to that fantasy? Imagined surrendering all control, waking up with my cock already inside you, fucking you awake until you’re screaming?"