Page 26 of Traithorn

Her hand trails lower, reaching my neck, and I involuntarily tilt it to give her better access.

Stupid, traitorous body.

A shiver wracks my body when she’s right above my breasts, my chest heaving. I can’t help but stare at her, taking in that deep, rich color of her burgundy hair, wondering if this is real, or if I’m hallucinating her.

Weeks of stress, years of worry, must have made me lose my goddamned mind.

She hums, a sound that feels almost like a purr. “So obedient,” she whispers. “Even after all this time, your body still craves my touch.”

I grit my teeth, hating the fact that she always notices. She always was the best at reading my reaction.

“Don’t touch me,” I grit out again, but it comes out as a plea.

Her hand comes down to my breast, trailing gently over my nipple through the T-shirt I wore to bed. A shiver crawls down my spine, and I bite my tongue to keep from making the slightest sound.

“You act as if you don’t want this, when I know you’ve missed us as much as we’ve missed you,” she muses. “But you understand we need to punish you, right? You’ve been a very bad girl.”

“Leave me alone,” I growl, tugging on the restraints keeping me captive.

The sound she lets out is dark and seductive, like a cackle, yet somehow mesmerizing. My body shouldn’t react like this around her, yet it does. A tingling sensation trails down my spine.

Her finger trails over my body, then switches to my thighs, and my body cannot help but react.

I hate myself in this moment, for this stupidawakeningthat’s spreading through me like a blooming seed.

Her lips brush against the shell of my ear, not saying anything, but sothere. Fingertips lightly brushing against my skin have my body twitching, and her lips tilt up in a knowing smile.

“So responsive,” she muses, and I squirm.

My legs are grinding against each other, trying to stem the rising sensations within me. She slaps my thigh, causing me to hiss out until my legs spread. She hums in approval, and I glare at her.

Looking at her fucking hurts; it tears my heart apart until it feels as if I cannot breathe anymore.

I’m forced to break eye contact when looking becomes too much, but she tsks.

“Give me those eyes, angel,” she murmurs against my ear, the sound of rustling fabric echoing loudly in the room.

I don’t give in at first, until her red-painted nails squeeze my cheeks, ultimately forcing me to look at her when the sharp bite of pain takes over.

What I see in them makes my heart clench, as her hand slowly releases my cheeks and gently pries my legs apart.

She removes the ribbons tightly secured around my legs and thighs, allowing me the freedom to move again, but the silk keeps my arms captive behind my back.

Unwillingly, she tugs my shorts and panties down, leaving me naked down there for her eyes to behold.

A blush creeps over my cheeks as embarrassment seeps into my bones, and I flinch away. The disapproving glare she gives me makes me instantly look back up at her.

Fuck, why am I obeying her?

Her fingers gently trail over to my clit, now throbbing with unwanted need. If she spreads my legs wider, she will see the wetness pooling between my legs. Desire for her.

Surely, only an automatic bodily reaction, right? It’s not as if Iactuallywant her.

She hums as she stares down at me, drinking me in like one would a cocktail; steadily, securely, enjoying every sip of the poison slithering down your throat.

“You’re trembling. Tell me, is it because you’re afraid or because you’re craving more of me?”

“Fuck you,” I spit out, trying to contain the fucking shivering in my body.

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