The Auction (Club Indulgence Duet, #1)(71)

He leaves the room but isn't gone long. When he returns, he orders, "Get on all fours."

I reposition my body, and he takes a pair of scissors and cuts my sundress, bra, and panties. He drags the smooth part of the blades down my spine, and I shudder. He kisses my ass cheek, murmuring, "Do you think I could hurt you, pet?"

I answer honestly. "You scared me last night."

"Sir," he adds.

I take a deep breath, repeating, "You scared me last night, Sir."

He keeps his lips on my spine and widens my thighs with his forearms until my body is only a few inches off the crystal. He asks, "So the answer is yes?"

Is it?

I confess, "I don't know. I want to say no."

He takes a deep breath, as if inhaling me, and pushes something inside me.

I gasp, and it begins to hum.

He slaps my ass, and I yelp. Without thinking, I cry out, "Thank you, Sir."

"Ah, my pet didn't forget," he says, relief in his voice. He rubs the sting out of my ass cheek.

"No, Sir. I didn't forget."

He leans into my ear. "You say you want my love, well, this is it. This is all I have. Is this what you want?" he questions.

I close my eyes, wishing I hadn't admitted it to him again and not understanding why I even seek what I know he'll never give me.

"Answer me," he says, slapping my ass again.

Whatever's inside me grows hotter, intensifying faster than what Riggs normally allows at this point of our play.

"Thank you, Sir!" I grit through my teeth.

"Is this what you want?" he repeats.

"Yes, Sir," I state, making peace with the fact that this is the only way he knows how to love. And if it's going to bring him home, I'll accept it. Because even though Riggs is cruel at times, I can't deny my feelings. No matter how much I don't want to be in love with him, I am. And if this is all I'll ever get, it'll have to be enough. But he has to come home. Every day he's gone, I die a little more inside.

He asks, "You know what I missed, pet?"

"What, Sir?"

"Your pussy. Specifically, my tongue on it. And hearing you beg me for hours."

I close my eyes, trying not to squirm, almost feeling him flickering on my body.

He drags his hand over my spine and steps toward my face, leaning into my ear and challenging, "I bet you break rule three."

"No, Sir. I won't," I state, determined to be the sub Riggs needs.

"I'll make you a deal."

"What, Sir?" I ask.

Tingles erupt on my skin from his hot breath. He asserts, "You come without permission, and I leave. You survive, and show me you're a good pet, and I'll move back in."

My determination only grows.

"It's up to you, pet," he says.

"Yes, Sir. I won't break rule three," I insist.

He kisses under my lobe, ordering, "On your back."

I roll over.

He takes my feet and plants them flat on the edge of the crystal. Then he grabs my hips and slides my ass toward him. He stares hungrily at my body, holds a remote in the air, and pushes a button while giving me a challenging expression, stating, "Let's see how badly you want me back."

Whatever he placed inside me intensifies its movements. I swallow hard, realizing he's not going to show me any mercy. He leans over me, his tongue hits my clit, and I grip his hair, my back arching into the crystal.

He pushes my hands to the sides of my body, far away from me, demanding, "Palms down, on the crystal at all times, pet." He sinks back into my pussy.

I cry out, unable to stop the incoherent sounds. A tidal wave of adrenaline quickly forms, rushing through my blood at lightning speed.

He reaches up, covers my mouth, then flicks faster while sucking my clit.

There's no ability to hold anything back. My eyes roll, and I convulse hard against the crystal, squirting my juices, which I've never experienced before.

Riggs doesn't let up.

It's so intense, I can't keep my hands still and put them back in his hair. I cry out, "I can't take anymore."

"Then use your safe word," he taunts, sticking his finger up my ass and nibbling my clit.

"Riggs! Please!" I beg.

He sucks, and another rush of adrenaline annihilates my cells.

It becomes a vicious cycle. Riggs makes me come, and I tell him I can't take anymore. He reminds me I have a safe word, but I never use it.

When he finally stops, there's a pool of my juices all over the top of the piano. He rises, wipes his forearm across his mouth, then says nothing, leaving the room.

I slowly sit up, trying to catch my breath.

He returns with a pair of joggers and a T-shirt on. His keys are in his hand.

"Don't leave," I plead.

"A deal's a deal. If you're frustrated, dig into it for your inspiration. Time's running out, pet. Get your shit done," he orders, then leaves me naked and still quivering on the piano.

Something in me snaps. I barely sleep for several days. All I think about is Riggs, and I can't stop writing.

Somehow, it's like he knows when I'm done. Four days pass, and I have a notebook of lyrics, along with some of the chords. I get a text.