Page 23 of Velvet Sin (Elite Men of Los Angeles #5)

ELEANOR

“P lease. I can’t take any more.” I was close to exhaustion, almost sagging, with my wrists still encased in the leather cuffs attached to the restraints on the four-poster bed.

This time, Dante had decided he wanted me to stand in front of the foot of the bed, arms outstretched to the sides, while he tortured me with a magic wand against my clit until I nearly passed out. “Let me come.”

“Not until I say you’re ready.” His soft, teasing laughter pulled a frustrated moan from my chest.

“Please!” I begged, and my voice sounded foreign, like some broken, wild thing who couldn’t think or reason.

There was nothing but sensations—tingling skin, the sting left over from the flogger, my aching pussy so desperate for relief.

“Please, let me come. Make me come, Dante…” I nearly sobbed, my voice scratchy from so much yelling and begging.

“You don’t decide, remember?” He grabbed a handful of my hair and tilted my head back until we were eye to eye.

There was something dark and almost feral swirling in his orbs.

The demanding, possessive side to him had taken control, leaving me shivering in recognition.

“The more you beg, the longer you wait. When are you going to learn?”

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered, doing my best not to bear down on the vibrator though instinct begged me to.

“You’re going to learn eventually.” His mouth quirked upward at one corner in a wicked smirk, his breath hot against my already flushed face before his touch on the back of my head relaxed a little. Almost a caress. “I have all the time in the world to teach you.”

I didn’t have all the time in the world before I went insane.

That was the problem. Uncontrollable shudders rocked me from head to toe as he kept me suspended in a state of agony, the final moments before the tension broke.

It went on and on, thanks to the way he teased me with the vibrator, barely touching me, giving just enough to keep me on the edge.

“I… can’t… take it!” I sobbed, my chest heaving, my entire body one throbbing nerve.

Suddenly, he took pity. The wand’s vibrating head went from barely grazing my slick, throbbing lips to nudging my clit, to finally pressing hard.

There was no speaking. I could only scream out my gratitude as unbearable tension finally released and washed over me in the most blissful flood of warmth.

It was all worth it—all the agony, the begging, and the aching to the point of pain.

It translated to the most incredible rush that left me laughing and crying.

And I could let it all go because Dante was with me, murmuring encouragement in my ear. “That’s right. That’s my good girl. Give it to me. Give it all to me.” I did because I couldn’t help it. This was all I wanted.

By the time the high passed, Dante was unbuckling the cuffs and easing me onto the bed.

“I’ll get you some water,” he murmured once I was comfortable. I could only grunt my thanks, leaning against one of the posts and closing my eyes. I was smiling, yes, but I was wiped out.

“Let’s make a note to try that again very soon.” He took one of the water bottles from on top of the wardrobe, uncapped it, and brought it to me. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you scream that way.”

“And I never told you I would fucking kill you if you didn’t let me come either.

” In the moment? Sure, I had meant it. I would’ve killed him if it meant being able to come after being teased and stimulated for so long—a feather against my nipples, a flogger to make my ass tingle, not to mention his tongue against my clit before he pulled out the wand and tormented me.

“I hope you don’t consider replacing me with this thing,” he admitted, snickering as he unplugged it and set it aside to be cleaned.

“You mean my new best friend, Wanda?” I asked. “I don’t know. You might be asking a little too much. That thing is unreal.” I was still spasming inside, coming down from the intense high.

“It wasn’t too much, though?” He looked and sounded genuinely interested, and I couldn’t help appreciating him more than I ever had. He wanted to be sure we never took things too far for me.

And that makes him a prince? Dammit, I hated that voice in my head. We were having so much fun sneaking around, making sure to keep things professional for the sake of everyone around us. I had a sexy secret, and it made me smile when I woke up in the morning.

I looked forward to going to work.

I didn’t want to ruin it.

This was so much easier when he had me tied up and begging. I didn’t have to think.

He was waiting for an answer, looking more concerned every minute I spent silent. “No, it wasn’t too much. I would’ve told you so and made you stop,” I assured him.

His brows drew together like he wasn’t satisfied. “I want to be sure. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or like I’m making you do anything.”

There was something about the way he said it that grabbed my attention.

He wasn’t looking at me, putting away some of the toys with his broad, bare back turned toward me.

His ass looked downright delectable in a pair of tight, black boxer briefs—the only clothing he wore.

“Is that something that happens a lot?” I asked, vaguely curious.

“Has there ever been a scene where you knew somebody didn’t like it? ”

“Once.” I couldn’t tell from his voice what he was thinking or how he felt about it. He had a lot of practice sounding neutral, concealing his real thoughts. It probably helped him in business.

“Was it at one of your clubs?”

“Absolutely not.” It came out sharp, like the crack of a whip. His shoulders sank before he looked back at me. “I didn’t mean to snap. It’s not a memory I like thinking back on. It was the night I learned the difference between a shitty, shoddy club and someplace worth visiting.”

Reaching up on top of the wardrobe, he took a bottle of water for himself. When he turned around to drink, it meant giving me a good look at his beautiful bare chest and torso, exquisitely chiseled, powerful, but not freakishly big the way Cameron wanted to be for a while.

Dammit, why was I thinking about him? He had a way of popping up at the worst times. I didn’t want to reflect on his pointless attempts at getting ripped. The one thing he ever tried to do for himself, on his own, and he had given up after a couple of months.

Gathering my courage, I whispered, “Can I ask what happened? You don’t have to tell me, but you have a way of setting up a story that leaves a girl wanting more.”

There was a twinkle in his eye when he glanced my way. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s leaving a woman wanting more. Once she’s screamed her head off, of course,” he added with a smirk.

I knew him too well. There might have been a blank stretch of years when we weren’t in each other’s lives, but I knew him.

He used humor to deflect when he felt overwhelmed.

It was hard to imagine a man like him ever being in that position.

He always projected this aura of calm, easy capability.

It was something he must have consciously practiced to get so good at it.

After a few silent moments, he took a deep breath.

“About a year after graduation, I met up with a couple of guys from school out in LA. I was still floating around, looking for my place in the world. We decided to go to one of the clubs just off the Sunset Strip. Sort of a college reunion.” Snickering, he continued, “I had already been to one of Dick Jansen’s clubs out here in Vegas, so I wasn’t completely new to the idea, but this was on a whole other level.

People were doing things right out in public, and they were completely unashamed.

I could hardly believe it,” he confessed.

“There I was, still getting lectured every week by my mother for not going to church, and I was watching people fuck out in the open. Two, three, sometimes five people all going at it at once. I’ll never forget the exhilaration.

” He sounded like he was recounting one of his fondest memories.

“So we sort of split up,” he continued, playing with the water bottle, peeling away the label while pacing in front of me.

“Because who wants to hang out with their guys in a place like that? We were all looking for fun. My head was spinning, watching everybody doing things I only ever watched in porn. But it was right in front of me, so real, so vivid. Dick’s club was more like mine.

There was fun out in the open, but the hardcore action was reserved for private rooms. I thought I’d found paradise. ”

His voice changed, going deeper and quieter.

“And then I found a room where a girl was being tortured the way I just tortured you. Orgasm denial, you know. She was sort of hanging from shackles coming down from the ceiling, and she was exhausted. Her legs were buckling, and they were covered in bruises. Some were older, some new, some she probably got that night. People were wandering in and out, watching these two guys in black hoods doing things to her.”

His lip curled in disgust. “They were shoving things inside her, front and back, using a cattle prod to zap different parts of her.”

“Jesus,” I croaked.

“And she was sweating… her hair was getting stuck to her neck.” There was revulsion in his voice, not that I could blame him. “Mascara was running down her face. She was sobbing… when she wasn’t screaming.”