Destroyed(102)

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered.

My stomach flipped and my heart no longer beat—it strummed for her. Only for her. Breathing hard, I brought my hands up to unbuckle my belt. Her lips parted as her eyes followed my every move. I inched the zipper down, feeling air kiss my nakedness beneath. Kicking off my shoes and socks, I let the material fall to the floor.

My cock hung heavy between my legs, begging for her touch. It felt alive with want, filling almost painfully with the urge to come all over her. I wanted her to wear my scent—to see my mark all over her white breasts and soft curls between her legs.

“Goddammit, Zel, you have no idea how much you f*cking turn me on.” My hand skidded over my stomach, cupping myself, easing some of the tension throbbing in my length.

She sucked in a breath. “Hold out your hands.”

Heat and a small flare of panic rushed my blood as I slowly unlatched my fingers from my cock. I obeyed.

Locking my elbows, I steeled myself against her gentle touches as she wrapped the entire length of chain around my wrists. Not once or twice, but three loops before gathering a small padlock from the black bedspread and securing me.

I tested the tightness, already feeling sick to my stomach, battling residual recollections of being bound.

This wasn’t a shit hot idea. Not only did I have to fight the conditioning, but now I had to battle the memories of being controlled and bound. I shook as my muscles bunched and quivered. What if I’m not strong enough?

My lungs stuck together as Zel exhaled a small sound of relief. Did she fear me that much? She didn’t look turned on by securing me, more like less ready to bolt out the door.

You’re doing this for her.

“Climb on the bed. Lie on your belly.”

My eyes flared. “Why on my stomach? A vital part of my anatomy isn’t useable unless you intend to teach me how to dry hump a mattress.” I tried to joke, to dispel some of the tense anxiety between us, but Zel’s lips only twitched. I’d mistaken any sense of relief when she secured the padlock—she hadn’t relaxed at all, shaking with tension.

“I want to do something. You let Clara do it. Now, it’s my turn.”

Fuck. She wanted to touch my back. She wanted to look deeper at the tattoos, see beneath the ink to the lash marks and countless other scars hidden beneath the Ghost designs.

I shook my head, about to refuse, but Zel leaned back, inadvertently flashing me her delicate pink flesh between her legs.

All thoughts detonated out of my head. I followed like a lovesick teenager, mouth-watering, wanting so f*cking badly to taste her.

I’d never kissed a woman down there. Never brought a woman to climax, or enjoyed the privilege of thighs quivering around my ears.

I wanted her. On my face, in my mouth, down my throat.

My already hard cock lurched painfully. “I’ll only lie down on my stomach if you do something for me in return.”

A barter system.

Something from her in return for something from me. And I knew exactly what I’d ask for.

Zel moved to the side as I awkwardly made my way high enough up the bed. With my hands locked together, I threw myself onto my back, rather than my stomach.

She scowled. “What do you want?” Little spots of colour danced on her cheeks, her lips growing pinker.

Instead of answering, my eyes dropped down her body, coming to rest between her legs. I stifled the groan, noticing for the first time the streak of glistening wetness on her inner thigh.

Fuck.

She wanted me as badly as I wanted her and the waiting was driving us both crazy.

It would take one good yank of my hands to break the three loops of chains. My arms tensed, preparing to release myself, so I could pin her beneath me. But I swallowed the need. Right now, there existed an equality between us. Zel believed she was safer and in turn might let me do more things to her than if she feared for her life the entire time.

I knew no matter what happened, I would sooner kill myself than her. My self-control would prevail. It had to.

Raising my eyes to lock with hers, I murmured, “I want to lick you.”

Her eyes flared wide; her toned tummy tightened.

When she didn’t move, I cocked my head. “Let me taste you, and I’ll gladly let you touch my back. But I’m not going anywhere until you obey me. Come here.”

She shook her head, a blush covering her cheeks. “I can’t. How would you—”

Logistics seemed simple to me. “You have to sit on my face, Zel.” I couldn’t stop the small smile and the thrill in my stomach at the thought of her presenting herself to me. She’d have to willing expose herself and hold herself in place while I pleasured her.

“Move. Now. I won’t ask again.”

The order in my voice made her slowly slink up the bed, eyes filling with shyness. Her body heat scorched mine, but she carefully avoided all contact. When her knees were parallel to my shoulders, she looked at me. “I can’t. It’s just—too graphic.”

“You want to touch me. I want to taste you. Straddle my mouth, Hazel.”

Her eyes snapped closed before a hesitant leg branched out and she positioned herself above me.

She towered above me, looking like my ruler, my queen. Her breasts sat perky and perfect while the contours of her stomach guided me to the sweetest looking * I’d ever seen.