Page 18 of Beautifully Deranged

?Chapter Nine?

Mikhail

If you’d told me a couple of months ago that I would pretend to be asleep while someone actively tried to tie my wrists to a bedframe… I would have called you insane. Yet, here I am. Lola is actually trying to tie me up. She’s straddling me, nothing but black lace clinging to her. Her breath hitches every time she secures another knot. And the worst part is that I’m letting her. I should have stopped this the second I felt the silk rope graze my skin, grabbed her wrists, and flipped her beneath me. Then thrown her out of my apartment before she unhinged my entire fucking existence.

Instead, I lie here, faking sleep like some pathetic bastard. I feel her fingers brush over my pulse.That little fucking tease. I crack one eye open just as she’s reaching for my second wrist, and I pretend to groggily stir. "What the fuck are you doing, Lola?"

The slowest, filthiest grin spreads across her face. “Shhh,” she coos, pressing a finger against my lips. “Go back to sleep, Mikhail.”

I need to rip my arms free, put her in her place. But my place? Right now? Is under her. And my cock, already hard as stone, is making that fact very, very fucking clear.

“If you’d given in, I wouldn’t have had to do this.” Her fingers ghost over my stomach, dragging down my happy trail, and my traitorous body reacts before I can stop it. A twitch. A fucking twitch.

“Don’t worry, Mikhail.” Her voice dips into something dark, saccharine. She leans down, mouth right over my ear. “I’m going to make you feel so, so good.”

Jesus fucking Christ. Her nails scrape over my abs before she reaches my boxers. She pulls them down. Just a little. Just enough. The elastic dips, grazing the base of my cock, and her tongue, God help me, flicks over the space just above my waistband.

I yank against the silk bindings, but they hold. If I told anyone about this, they’d drag me to a male victim support group. Hell, if I said this out loud, even Roman would sit me down, offer me a drink, and tell me, “Brother, you need to get a fucking grip.”

And yet—

I want it.

I want it so fucking bad I can taste it.

But I can’t let her know that.

Not when she’s this starved, this desperate, this fucking unhinged. She drags her lips up my stomach, tongue flicking. Her body is a sin I’ve spent too long resisting. Then she fucking giggles, like this is some fucking game and she’s playing with her food. “You poor thing,” she pouts. “All pent up. I’d almost feel bad for you if you didn’t bring this on yourself.”

“Untie me, Lola,” I snarl.

“God, I love it when you say my name like that.”

I curse under my breath. She’s already pulling my boxers down further. “Lola,” I rasp, “You’re playing with fire.”

She strokes me slowly, agonizingly slow. “I’m not playing, Mikhail,” she whispers. “This is real. It’s all real.”

The pressure builds in my chest, in my balls, and I can barely breathe through it. She pulls her hand back, and I think I might die right here, my entire existence hanging on the edge of whatever twisted thing she’s doing to me. “You’re mine now,” she commands.

I want to twist this all around, take back control, and make her beg for my touch the way I’m almost fucking beggingfor hers. But she’s already won. This isn’t me, I don’t lose my mind to anyone.

When she drags her lips over the tip of my cock, all coherent thought fades into the background. I throw my head back as she swirls her tongue around the head, drawing out a moan I can’t control.

“Tell me how much you need me,” she growls.

“Lola, please...” I manage. She takes me back into her mouth, and I forget who I am, who I was. All I know is her. All I feel is her. Her hands grip my hips as she takes me deeper, gagging around my cock. Her tongue flicks along the underside of my shaft, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. But before I can cum, she pulls back. Fuck.

She straddles my face. Her fingers pull her panties to the side, exposing her lush pink pussy. Her pussy is maddening. It’s enough for me to drop the façade of reluctance. “Scoot a little lower,” I grumble, unable to help myself. I want to taste her. “Move down so I can reach you. You’re not teasing me with that perfect fucking pussy hanging just out of reach.”

There’s a shift in her at the slightest bit of my dominance peeking out. It’s like a switch has been flicked; she submits to me fully, lowering herself a couple of inches. My tongue flicks out, tasting the edge of her heat. But I need more, so I twist my neck higher, burying myself nose-deep in her pussy. Her body rocks against me, sweet moans slipping from her mouth. All my resistance melts away. “Ride my face, Lola,” I murmur against her folds. “Show me you’ve got the guts to take what’s yours. I want to see you fall apart on my tongue.”

She gasps, but moves, faster this time, her hips grinding against me. But I’m not just going to let her have all the control. I bite down on her clit, just hard enough to make her jerk, but not enough to hurt. She screams. “Beg me for it,” I command,knowing damn well that I have the power to drive her mad with need. “Beg me, and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

“Please, Mikhail,” she whimpers. “Please, let me come. I can’t—fuck, I can’t hold back anymore.”

“That’s what I thought,” I mutter, and without warning, I suck her clit hard. She breaks, her body trembling violently as she comes undone. I don’t stop until I’ve tasted every drop.

I don’t know exactly when I decided to run the game, but I can’t resist anymore. But that’s the thing: she doesn’t own me. And she’s going to learn just how badly she miscalculated this. With a mighty pull, I break free from the silk restraints. I move fast. She tries to hold me down, but it’s useless. She’s scared, her arms and legs wrapping around me, trying to anchor me in place.

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