Page 101 of Ugly Beautiful Scars

"I'm getting better at this," she says. Her fingers trace lazy circles over her bare knee, and I feel that touch like it's on my skin. "Tell me. What do you want?"

"What I want?"

"Yeah." She smiles and I know she's playing the same game she's been playing these past two days.

She's pulling me deeper into this world we're creating together, where it's just us and nothing else exists or matters beyond these four walls. Next, she'll get me to spill my guts about everything I'm desperate to do to her.

What I really want is to be free of these damn cuffs. I want my mouth on hers and my fingers buried deep inside her until she's crying my name over and over.

I want everything she's willing to give.

But all I manage is a hoarse groan as I strain against the restraints.

She laughs. "No breaking free," she warns with a shake of her head. "Not yet."

She lets one corner of her robe slip down, then pulls a strap of that teddy off her shoulder. I make fists behind the chair, my hands curling into themselves because they can't curl around her.

"So what do you want to see?"

"You," I rasp out. "Everything."

She slips the other strap down, giving me a glimpse of skin before covering herself again. My cock twitches painfully inside my jeans as she toys with the lace just above her breasts. She lowers it inch by excruciating inch until those beautiful breasts spill free. I almost choke on my own spit. Her nipples are hard peaks begging for attention.

Before I can fill my lungs with air, she's sliding one hand down her stomach, over the teddy's black fabric. She watches my reaction like it's fueling her own desire.

"Is this what you want?" She lifts the bottom of her teddy and bares herself completely. She's pink and glistening under those delicate folds, and I go half-insane in front of her.

"Fuck," I say with a strangled voice. "Yes."

Her fingers dip lower as she watches me squirm helplessly in my seat, lost somewhere between torment and euphoria. She's merciless in her need to push us both to the brink.

The chair creaks under me; I'm pulling hard against it now without even realizing. I'm torn between wanting to watch every second and needing to shut my eyes because it's almost too much.

Almost.

I can't look away from how beautiful she is when she's like this; she's so utterly fearless with herself.

My hips jerk forward because there's no hiding how wrecked I am by the pace she's set since Friday night. It's exquisite torture, and I'm the luckiest bastard alive.

"What else?" Her voice is a whispered challenge.

"I want to hear you moan," I say. "I want you to use those fingers until you can't take it anymore."

Her eyes widen, and her fingers move with fresh urgency. She's slick and wet as she circles herself. Her breath quickens in that way that tells me she's already so damn close.

"Keep going," she gasps, and it's both a plea and a command. My favorite combination.

"I want to watch you come undone. I want you moaning my name because you can't hold it back."

Her wrist flicks faster as she listens, her lips parting around small whimpers that kill me with each sound. "Sean."

I groan before telling her "Just like that." I'm strung tight, my pulse crashing through every vein. Her face is flushed; she's right at the edge and teetering beautifully there.

If only it could be me inside her giving this pleasure, but I'm resigned to another night relieving my ache in a frenzy across the hall.

I'm completely caught up in the show when she surprises me by moving off the couch to where I'm bound. It's so quick I can hardly understand what's happening before she's uncuffing one of my hands.

"There," she says, leaving one of my hands free while hooking the other to the chair.

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