Page 24

Maybe I should’ve kept that comment to myself. No more than a minute later, he walks back into the room with some cloth strips, a hunger in his eyes that sends a shiver down my spine.

“What are those for?”

I ask, my voice breathy.

He grins wide as he climbs back onto the bed, settling between my legs as he wraps one of the strips around my ankles. “You’ll see.”

“Mac.”

His name falls from my lips, half plea, half warning.

He drags my foot up next to my head and adrenaline burns through the feelgood haze.

“What are you doing, you crazy jerk?”

I buck and try to kick him with my free leg, but it doesn’t do much, and he ties my ankle to the frame of the bed. “Mac!”

I finally get in a good jab, smashing my other foot into his groin.

“Fuckin’ hell!”

He pulls back, clutching himself. A moment later, he lunges forward, capturing my free leg and securing it to the metal frame with another strip of cloth. “You'll regret that.”

“This isn’t part of the deal, you lying bastard.”

Being practically bent in half is not comfortable. Neither is being completely exposed and helpless. My breathing picks up, fear flooding my veins when he leaves the room again. “Come back!”

Mac reappears a second later, and my eyes narrow as they fall to some kind of oval flat thing in his hands.

He chuckles, spinning it. “This was used to play a game. Ping-pong. Stupid name. But a nice paddle, nonetheless. I was willing to forgive the fork incident, but that kick nearly took my balls off.”

“You’re the asshole breaking the deal.”

“You agreed to two hours without asking questions. Maybe next time get that desperate, slutty side in check and don’t assume shit.”

My lips purse while my nose and brows scrunch together as I snarl at him.

He only laughs and moves to the side of the bed, then brings the paddle down on my exposed ass with a sharp crack, spreading a vicious sting across my butt cheek.

Another swat, this time on the other side.

“I made you a roast tonight. Saved your damn life a few times over the past four years. But you fucking kick me like an ungrateful little shit. Then you have the nerve to call me an asshole. Twice.”

He rains down blows left and right. I fight my restraints uselessly and bite my tongue to keep from crying. The sting leaches into an endless burn, getting worse the longer he goes on.

It hurts like hell and, eventually, I can’t take it anymore. Tears stream down my face. “Stop. Please stop! I'm sorry!”

But he keeps going.

I yank at my bindings to no avail, tears flow freely as my bottom lip trembles. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Mac finally drops the paddle and runs a hand over one cheek, then the other, smoothing and squeezing the burning skin. “That's all I wanted to hear, Cal. An apology you truly meant.”

“A fucking apology? You hit me for a fucking apology? I hate you.”

He settles over me, getting right up in my face, then looks over my body and nods, some of the intensity from earlier leaving the longer he appraises me, appraises what he’s done.

His brows pinch as he stares at my flaccid groin. “I’m not tryin’ to hurt you so stop intentionally attacking me.”

A pain, like a knife to my damn heart, hits because he’s right.

I wanted to hurt him because I freaked out. Now I just want to wipe the tears from my cheeks, but I can’t and it makes me feel even more exposed—more embarrassed—than the stupid fucking position he has me in.

He pulls the toy back around, squirting a little lube on it again before he smooths a hand over my heated and stinging skin.

“Mac, please. I can’t take anymore.”

“You saying you want me to stop?”

Do I? I don’t know. I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. “It’s just . . . overwhelming.”

“Two more, Cal. Two more orgasms, then you’re done.”

Though, I’m sure even one more will kill me. Only the moment his thumb grazes my asshole, a wanton moan escapes my lips. I’m aching for his touch, aching to be filled.

I writhe and squirm as he slowly—like fucking molasses slow—fucks me with the toy. I want to hate how good it feels, but an exquisite heat builds in my groin until my dick throbs, desperate for release.

“Mac . . .”

His name comes out in one needy breath.

“What, Little Fawn?”

His voice is thick with arousal, sending shivers down my spine. He leans over me, his hard length brushing against my thigh, making me gasp. Then he bites the sensitive skin of my earlobe. “Tell me what you need.”

“Please, touch me. I need to come so bad it hurts.”

“Sorry, Cal. No go.”

Bastard!

No, of course he won’t give me what I want. Instead, his hands map my body, pinching my nipples, nipping at my inner thighs, palming my stinging cheeks. Every touch winds me tighter.

Breathy cries spill from my lips as pleasure threatens to consume me. I'm unraveling, desperate to ground myself in his solid strength.

I need to hold onto something.

Anything.

I’m floating too high.

“Look at you, taking it so well. Beg for me, Little Fawn. Let me hear how much you want it." His words are a growl, laced with hunger. He rocks against me, his thickness sliding along the crease of my thigh.

Even though begging is the last thing I want to give him, I still do. “Mac, please. Please play with my dick. I need your hand on me.”

I'm panting now, writhing shamelessly. “I'm aching for it. For you.”

Mac's gaze is searing, pupils blown with lust as his hips flex, his engorged cock seeking friction against my fevered skin. But there's something almost vulnerable in the intensity of his stare. “Tell me you'll stay and be mine, and I'll help you finish right now.”

The request is no sooner out, and he looks away, Adam’s apple bobbing as he slightly shakes his head, now concentrating a bit too hard on my asshole and the vibrating toy.

Stay? Be his?

To be tied up like this, to be played with like some toy?

No.

No fucking way.

I don’t want to prolong whatever he’s doing to me, of how he makes me feel, or how he makes me want to instantly obey him . . . not when this is nothing more than a transaction to him.

He doesn’t really want me.

Before I can spiral on the thought, his thumb rubs maddening circles over my perineum and I nearly sob, my muscles clenching and unclenching as if my internal wiring is on the fritz.

Blinding ecstasy crashes over me as I come untouched, a slow dribble of release slicking my stomach. “Oh, God!”

“Such a beautiful boy when you come. Picture fuckin’ perfect.”

My entire body is covered in a layer of sweat, and inexplicable tears burn my eyes. I'm raw, flayed open, stripped bare in a way that terrifies me. I hardly know my own name at the moment.

Mac's voice breaks through my daze. “Now it's my turn.”