Page 54 of Pandora's Pleasure

Upon the wall hung paddles, whips and chains—and more instruments that looked like they could inflict a lot of pain…

He clicked his fingers to get my attention. “You will obey me in all things. You’re a spoiled brat, Pandora. It’s going to be a tall order.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? Tied to your bed.”

“You’re not tied to it yet. But once I clamp those handcuffs, you’re staying. You’re going to be gagged. Am I making myself clear?”

“I can stay?”

“Are you sure you want to? Staying means that potentially your family’s aspirations are over. It’s a lot to consider. I can give you some time to think about it.” He gestured his willingness to leave.

With my chest heaving, I tried to decide if I was willing to throw away everything I’d been trained for—a life dedicated to being my family’s commodity. Now, instead of saving a dynasty, I was considering his offer.

If I stayed, I’d behis.

With all this pendant had achieved, it felt sacred to me now, resting delicately against my throat as I lay back on the bed. Damien snapped each of the metal cuffs closed—after he’d stretched my limbs wide and positioned me spread-eagled on the satin bed cover.

I tried to control my breathing, tried to keep my mind from spinning. Tension rose in me as I watched him take his time preparing the room.

Candles were lit and placed here and there, their shadows dancing over my naked form. A camera pod was stationed to our left, the lens pointed directly toward the four-poster bed to capture the scene, a blinking red light confirming that filming had begun. I looked over at the mahogany table where the instruments glinted threateningly.

Finally, Damien appeared ready.

He kicked off his shoes and then stripped off his shirt, revealing a toned body with sculpted abs and a lean waist. He watched me as I stared, pulling his pants and briefs off and tossing his clothes on top of mine.

My eyes settled on his enormous cock, curling up his abdomen, the head round and smooth. That would be inside me soon. The thought of it caused me to feel a wave of panic as I watched him stroke it from base to tip, causing it to grow in size.

He ripped open the small square packet in his hand and eased out a condom, pinching the end and rolling the shiny sheath over his impressive length. His cock continued to grow larger as he secured the condom with nimble fingers.

My head crashed back onto the pillow.

At last, it was happening.

The sound of my rapid breathing filled the chamber. He came at me slowly, crawling from the end of the bed and soon closing in on his prey, causing the mattress to dip slightly as he leaned on his elbows.

His thumb brushed over my lips. “Ready?”

I gave him a hesitant nod and glanced over at the camera.

“Keep your eyes on me.” He brushed a wisp of hair out of my eyes. “It’s going to be uncomfortable. Bite down on my shoulder if it helps. Don’t worry about me. I like it.”

My mouth went dry and I licked my lips as I fathomed his words.

“Want something to drink?”

Just do it…get it over with.

“If you want me to stop at any time, just say.” His thumb slipped into my mouth.

I suckled on it, surrendering to the sensuality.

His hand moved, cupping my cheek. “Slow your breathing.”

I wanted to tell him to be gentle, but the contents of this room screamed that it wasn’t his way. This man appeared to search out pain and probably drenched himself in it. The same level of endurance would be expected of me, no doubt. All I had to do was survive seconds and minutes and possibly hours of discomfort.

Yet despite my trepidation, my body craved that same agony, like a numbness needing to be clawed at—a fragile body needing to be proven strong.

His honesty soothed a part of me, as though his promise of torture might cancel out a past of privilege—that side of me that had been coddled and protected and kept safe, lifting me out of the dullness of my existence.