Third Debt (Indebted #4)(98)

Jethro crooked his finger, rocking. “Tell me or I’ll stop.”

Don’t stop!

“I—I feel heavy. As if I’m too full and filling more and more the longer you touch me.”

“Good. Go on.”

“Um…I feel weightless as if I’m exactly where I need to be. I’m confused and crazy and needy and hazy. But through it all, I’m excited.”

He grunted. “Fuck, that’s a turn-on.” Bending over, he kissed me hard. “Having access to your body isn’t what I crave. It’s access to your mind. Your feelings I can sense, but your thoughts I can’t. It’s the one part of you I need to own—in order to give in completely.”

I quivered as he removed his finger and raised the whip again, torturing me slowly with it licking over my skin. “Do you understand what I need?”

“Yes, I think so.” I bit my lip as he circled the bed, never stopping his incessant stroking with the supple whip. With every stroke, I forced myself to focus on how I felt inside rather than how I reacted outside.

The physical was so much easier. My pulse thundered. My skin prickled. My blood raced. My core clenched. My body needed him desperately. And my libido scaled a mountain that terrified me.

But emotionally…I wasn’t prepared to go so deep. It was foreign territory to look so far inside. How could I truly understand who I was—not just as a woman or Weaver but as a human—a creature of breath and bone…of animalistic desires?

Were my thoughts normal? Were they acceptable? Was I weak or strong or broken? I didn’t know.

And Jethro wants to know…

On his second circuit, Jethro flicked the whip, striking my clit with a short, sharp burst.

“Oh, my God!” The intensity swooped hard, jerking my shoulders as a blistering wave of need spread from my core. The sweetest strangest buzz travelled through me. I became weightless all while heavy with colliding thoughts.

“Tell me how you feel,” Jethro purred.

I had no clear-cut answer, but I’d promised. I have to try. Closing my eyes, I focused inward. “There are too many thoughts to articulate. They’re all racing too fast.” Pulling on the restraints, I begged, “Jethro…”

“Quiet.” He dragged the whip up the centre of my body.

Every muscle bunched, preparing for the next strike.

He didn’t disappoint.

He struck me short and sharp on my bellybutton.

I convulsed, soaking up the decadent bite. One moment, my thoughts were tamed, untangling themselves from the twisting mass of nonsensical nonsense, the next, they were a jumble of madness.

“And now,” Jethro said. “Now, how do you feel?”

“Now…I’m quiet. I’m tense. I can feel something inside me unlocking, opening.”

That’s the truth. I don’t know what’s unlocking but keep going—I want to find out.

Jethro sucked in a breath. Our eyes connected.

The unlocking inside flung wide open like a rusted gate. It was the weirdest thing. To feel your own soul unfurling. I’d never taken the time to truly feel myself. To know who I was. To rifle through my history, experiences, and fears.

“I’m—I’m letting you in.”

Jethro flicked the whip again. “More.” The leather kissed my ribcage.

I cried out at the sweet, burning sting.

“That’s what I want. That’s what I need.” He circled the bed again, flicking me in different spots: my hip, my bellybutton, my nipple.

Oh, my God, my nipple!

Fire flamed through my blood. A trickle of wetness slipped between spread thighs.

My body sang. My soul rejoiced. I’d never been so free…so unencumbered even while bound in place.

The crop licked my throat, slapping quickly on my diamond collar. The sound of chastisement and the swift burn of intoxicating pain throbbed my nipples. Jethro rained gentle punishment down my sternum toward my *.

My head tossed back as I writhed, wanting him to strike faster. To f*ck me. Love me. Claim me.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes,” I whimpered. “Better than good. It feels...” My eyes closed as I threw myself into a maze of complexities. My body had brought me to this place, but my thoughts took over. They made this more than sex. More than love. They made this transcendent.

Jethro struck me quicker—like tiny breaths—working his way all over my body.

“Please.” I thrashed. “Take me. I need you inside me.”

“Why? Why do you need me inside you?”

Why?

There were so many reasons why. One fell from my lips before I could think. “Because I can’t handle the intensity anymore!”

Jethro sighed heavily, wrenching my eyes open. “Now you know…now you know how it feels to live with my curse.” He struck me particularly hard. “There is no stopping for me. No reprieve. It’s one piercing thing after another.”

The agony in his voice sent me higher; I strained for a release. “That’s awful. So awful.” I couldn’t handle the poignant need to explode another second. “But please, Jethro. I need you.”

“Quiet.” He struck my clit again. “I love feeling what you feel. I love having no barrier between us.”