Page 102 of Thorns from the Fall

“Is that so, sweetheart?” he asks, grabbing my wrist and pulling my hand away. “On your knees then,” he says and he takes off his jacket.

“Or what?” I taunt. I like getting into this headspace with him. It feels like us, and it turns me on all the more. He licks his lips as he takes off his tie and undoes the buttons of his dress shirt.

“Do you want me to fuck you downstairs in the ballroom in front of everybody?” he threatens, and honestly, the thought makes my body grow taut and warm. But it’s probably not a good idea to engage in such voyeurism as new leaders of the covens.

I slip down to my knees, and when he unbuttons his pants, I begin to salivate. He steps closer, and I reach for him.

“No, baby. Do as you were told.”

He turns, walking toward the bedroom, and I start to stand, ready to follow him.

“I saiddo as you were told—on your hands and knees.”

I stare at him, turned on and confused and nearly overwhelmed by the relief that comes with surrender. But I hesitate, waiting for him to clarify just one more time.

“Crawl.”

And I do. Past the living room and around the bar stools in front of the large, floor-to-ceiling windows. He lets me lead the way, and when I glance over my shoulder, his eyes are laser focused on my pussy and ass. When I get to the bed, he tilts my chin up with one knuckle.

“I knew you could do it, sweetheart. Now get on the bed.”

This time, I obey. I climb onto the bed and lie back on the pillows propped up by the maid Roman insisted I hire. I have to admit, it’s nice laying down on a tidy bed.

When I’m tempted to touch myself as he finishes undressing, I put my hands behind my head instead.

Because I can do it, just like he said.

With one leg straight and the other knee raised, I can’t help but squeeze my legs together. All I want is heat and friction.

I’m still not used to his new tattoo, and I caress his flesh with my gaze as I take in the design on his stomach. With silver-laced ink, he’d had a dragon in flight tattooed across his upper stomach, no bigger than his hand. It’s a reference to Remy’s favorite show, and it’s both fierce and delicate.

He turns, and I’m grateful for the glimpse of his muscular shoulders. He’s strong and capable—and he’s mine.

When he slips his boxer-briefs off, I’m awarded with the profile of his hard cock. Even if he’s teasing and torturing me, he’s not unaffected considering the drop of pre-cum glistening on his tip.

When he finally comes closer, agonizingly slow, leaning over me, I expect him to kiss me and stop this torment—but it only gets worse.

Because he reaches beneath the headboard and grabs the straps he uses to hold me in place. With a delicate touch, he places my wrist inside it and fastens it shut.

Slowly, he walks around the bed, watching my compliance with a soft smile. I like when I can see the satisfaction on his face. It’s almost as good as when I frustrate the fuck out of him.

So when he grabs my other wrist, I twist my hand and tug him down. He loses his footing and his elbow lands on the bed beside my head. Without hesitation, I grab the back of his neck and bring him to me. I bite at his lip and he growls as he tries to pull away.

“You’re a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?” he asks as he stands up. Roughly, he fastens my other arm to the bed.

I close my eyes, thrilled to be nothing but a fucktoy for him. But he seems to have other ideas as he tucks my legs up and wraps a soft rope up one thigh, under my ass, and down the other. Displayed for him, I can’t move.

I moan when he drags his fingers through my wetness, spreading the slick moisture all over my cunt.

“How many times do you think I can get this pussy to cum before you beg me to stop? How long do you think you can last?”

I clench, not having an answer for that because I already want to scream. With a devious expression, he climbs onto the bed and presses a soft kiss to my silver-scarred skin.

“I don’t think you can get past five,” he says.

“I bet I can,” I say, scowling at his lack of faith in me.

“If you can, you get your way and we wait until the witch signs off on our living arrangement. You can’t? I move in, and I fuck you like this all hours of every day. Deal?”

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