Page 106 of Unrequited

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He kneels and settles between my thighs like he belongs there, and he does.

Then his tongue drags slowly, maddeningly, over my clit.

I cry out. My hips jerk, chasing the feeling, already trembling under the weight of his mouth.

I didn’t know it could feel like this.

Didn’t know I could want again so fast.

Didn’t know I could need this way.

But I do. God, I do.

He sucks. Licks. Flicks. Over and over.

I rise from the bed, straining for him, moaning for him, aching.

Then… he stops.

A kiss to my thigh, maddening in its gentleness.

“You’ll stay like that,” he says quietly. “Your punishment isn’t over.”

Then he stands.

“I need to do a few things.”

“Seamus,” I gasp. “My god, you can’t. Please… Seamus.”

“What’s my name?”

“Sir,” I breathe out, wrecked.

“Don’t leave me like this. Please. I’m sorry, I promise I?—”

“And I promise you,” he cuts in coldly.

“I’ll let you come. You’ll love it when I do. But you’ll learn to obey me, Zoya. First, because I love it. Second, because it’ll keep you alive.”

Then he walks away, leaving me cuffed, wet, exposed.

Burning.

I squeeze my thighs together, seeking relief, anything, but it’s useless.

The ache only grows.

Even if I had the key, I wouldn’t use it.

I wouldn’t move.

I want to obey him.

I want to please him.

I want to be perfect for him.

I want to be his good girl.

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