His hand lifts.
The first slap lands soft—barely a sting. More sound than sensation. But it makes me gasp.
“Good girl.”
A second one—firmer. Just enough to spark heat beneath the surface.
“Let me hear you.”
I moan—shocked by the sound that escapes me. Raw. Honest. His.
“That’s it.”
He rewards the sound with his mouth between my thighs, slow and devastating.
I arch, bound and exposed and completely at his mercy.
“Stay still.” His voice strokes across my skin like velvet over flame. Not raised, not rushed—just absolute. My wrists tug reflexively against the belt binding them to the frame, but I obey. “You don’t move unless I say.”
His fingers skim the inside of my thigh again, a whisper of touch that leaves me straining for more. But nothing comes.
Nothing… and everything.
Because that’s the game now—he controls the pace, the pleasure, the torment of waiting.
“Breathe for me.”
I do. Inhale. Exhale. Shaky. Loud. Aroused beyond reason.
Hunter watches me—not just my body, but the way I react to the absence of sensation. The way I arch into empty air. The way I clench around nothing.
“Good girl.”
Two words. They land harder than his hands.
He leans in close, breath warm against my ear.
“I’m going to use you exactly how I want. And you’re going to take it. Because that’s what you need, isn’t it?”
I nod, breathless. Desperate.
His hand closes around my jaw, firm but careful, angling my face toward him.
“Words, Audrey.”
“Yes.” I choke on the word. “Please.”
A growl rumbles in his chest—satisfaction and hunger, restrained only by discipline. He moves with calm efficiency, pushing my legs wider, adjusting my hips, and then… stepping away.
The loss of him steals the air from my lungs.
“Hunter—”
“When we’re like this, you don’t speak unless I ask you a question.” His tone sharpens—still quiet, but no longer soft.
I go still. The shame is instant… and so is the heat.
He watches the war play out across my face. His gaze darkens, but there’s pride in it too. He sees me. All of me.