Page 74 of The Toy Maker

I swallowed, my pulse hammering.

“And as for your friends…”

His gaze bore into mine, penetrating deep within me.

“I hope they see you.” His eyes darkened, and I swallowed down the argument in the back of my throat. “I want them to see you led out by a chain, your skin completely bare except for where I taught you how to be a good slut.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, my fingers curling into fists at my sides.

“I want everyone in the room to turn and stare at the best toy I’ve ever created.”

My lips parted, but before I could respond, Jason tilted his head.

“If you don’t shut those pretty lips of yours,” he said smoothly, “I’ll ruin them.”

I should’ve been embarrassed, should’ve wanted to run, but instead, I felt my thighs clench, my body betraying just how much I needed him to make good on the threat.

With that, he turned, leading me down the hallway without another word. The sound of my own breathing filled my ears as we stopped at the last door.

Jason pulled a key from his pocket, sliding it into the lock with ease. The soft click of the door unlocking made my pulse jump. Then, the lights flickered on. I barely managed to swallow the startled gasp that rose in my throat.

TWENTY-SEVEN

The dim tracklights running across the ceiling barely lit the room, casting long shadows over the walls. My gaze darted to the collection of toys scattered across the space.

A black X was propped up on the far wall, and restraints, floggers, gags, and what seemed to be medieval torture devices dangled off the wire racks.

My eyes bounced over the suspension bars and chains before flicking back to Jason. He was watching me, amused, his lips curved into a smirk.

“Don’t be scared,” he finally said. “I don’t bite.”

My fingers brushed over the fresh bite mark on my neck; lying bastard. Jason gave me a moment to take in my surroundings before leading me toward the X. My breath hitched in anticipation.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked.

I didn’t know we’d be having a pop quiz, and I definitely hadn’t studied my kinky sex toy notes.

“Does it mark the spot?” I quipped.

Jason’s jaw tightened, but the slight twitch of his lips told me he was entertained. “This is Saint Andrew’s Cross,” he said smoothly. “You’ll be spending a lot of time on it.”

Figures. I could only run my mouth for so long before damning myself to some kind of punishment.

Jason finally released me from my chains and told me to position myself in front of the cross. Lifting both my arms above my head, he fastened my arms in the leather cuffs, then secured my feet the same way.

I began to get the main idea of the toy; lose blood flow in your arms in the most exposed pose to ever exist, or so I thought.

I winced at the stinging from my nipples being freed from the clamps.

And then, his mouth was on me. His tongue flicked over one nipple, soothing the ache left by the clamp, while his fingers rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger. A strangled moan caught in my throat.

If the association with pain and pleasure continued, then I was sure I wouldn’t be able to get a paper cut without thoroughly soaking my panties.

While he worked on my sensitive chest, his fingers had an ulterior motive.

My pussy nearly exploded as he massaged my clit.

Heat coiled deep inside me as he trailed down, pressing his fingers against my clit in slow, deliberate circles. My hips jerked, desperate for more, and when I whimpered, he chuckled.