Page 33 of Bad Girl Dilemma

I squeeze my eyes shut. “From everything,” I eventually sigh. “You’ve kept me waiting for so long. I don’t… I can’t…”

His large, warm hand glides down my back. Almost soothing but not quite. “I’m going to fuck you tonight. You’ve earned it.”

Oh God. Please.“Yes, Sir.”

He unzips his pants, and I hear the soft jingle of metal.

Then I feel it. Something heavy. Pressing. Hot.

I glance back—and see it.

Holy shit.

His cock is long, heavy, thick, veined andpierced. Curved toward his navel. A barbell glints at the head, gleaming with anticipation. Five more decorate his jaw-dropping length. One on top of his corona.

My breath catches. “You didn’t tell me?—”

“You didn’t ask.”

“I… I’ve never?—”

“Shhh. Let me teach you.”

He crouches in front of me, cups my jaw and kisses me again—slower this time. Gentler. But it only makes the burn inside me worse. Push and pull at full strength.

“You remember your safe word?”

I nod.

He waits. “Say it, so I know.”

“Killswitch,” I whisper.

He smiles. “Good girl.”

He kisses me again, and God, the way Dante uses his tongue and teeth and lips wrecks me. I never thought I’d crave the decadent sounds of our mouths melding like I do now. And for a man who is a master of control and stillness, I love how his hands don’t stop moving over my body.

A rumble builds in his chest as his fingers glide down my throat, lingering on the collar for several beats before exploring my collarbones. Testing my strength.

Then my nipples are caught. Pinched. Tugged. Pain upon pain exploding into pleasure. My wince and cry make his eyes gleam. Those eyes that never close chasing my every reaction.

I’m panting. A needy mess by the time he rises and repositions himself behind me. Taps the base of the plug. Electricity zaps through me.

“I’m taking this out now. I’m too big to leave it in for our first time.”

I clench my jaw against telling him to leave it. To give me the pain with the pleasure. But even I know that’s foolish. Risky. Recklessness might get me fuck all. Or fucked not. I signed a paper that said I would obey.

Surrender.

So I nod. “Yes, Sir.”

Did he just tremble? I?—

He taps the base again.

“God, please…”

“Tell me how you feel, Little Dahlia,” he croons.

---