Page 55 of Little Blue

With tears brimming in my eyes, I give a reluctant nod.

He hums in approval before he slowly releases my pinned hands. I leave them resting at my sides, watching as his eyes drink me in. Every inch of me heats as his eyes travel over the swell of my breasts, the nipples peaking as though reaching out to him for something—relief?

I want to moan in frustration now more than pleasure. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, his eyes drift down my belly, over my navel to land on the white cotton panties I wear. They’re nothing fancy, nothing sexy, and I feel a bloom of embarrassment heat my cheeks.

I don’t know why I care about the sexy barometer of my panties. The man kidnapped me. The last thing I should want is for him to find anything about me sexy—and yet…

“Are you wet for me?”

I am not answering that question.

He waits for a solid three seconds, before he grins. Then, he lowers his head and flicks my oversensitive nipple with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh!” I lift my arms to push him away because that little lick had felt like electricity pulsing through my body. Too much.

Thankfully, he raises his head. Cocking one brow, he asks again, “Are you wet for me, Irelynn?”

“Go to Hell,” I whisper.

He smirks, then he drops his head again. This time, he sucks my nipple into his mouth, using teeth and tongue to push me to the brink.

I’m twenty-one, but I’m untouched. Hell, I don’t even touch myself.

This—his expert mouth—it’s too much.

I don’t think. I just lift my hands and shove him violently away from me. He releases my breast with a popping sound that has my core aching. Then he licks his lips and says, “So, you want to be tied up after all?”

“What?” Panic flickers through me. Like a bulb not quite connected to power. “N-no.”

“You had your chance, Blue.”

He moves, and I really start to fight now. My legs kick and my body thrashes as he tears the shirt from my arms. I scream, knowing for a fact that everyone sleeping in this house isn’t sleeping anymore.

I don’t even care. Maybe someone will be brave enough to stop him. To stop this.

No one comes. And Ilya laughs darkly as he subdues me with ease, tying my wrists with the shirt I’d worn for him only minutes before, before tying it to the post of his bed.

Hot tears sting my eyes as a blaze sears my flesh. I’m naked, but for the panties I wear, and I have a feeling I won’t be wearing them for long.

I try to reason with him. “Please, Ilya.”

“Fucking hell, I like that.”

“Wh-what?”

“You saying my name when you look like this. Naked and fucking exquisite in my bed.”

“I’m not ready for this.” I try. My voice is soft and shaky. My entire body trembles.

“I’m not fucking you tonight.” He grins a dangerous grin. “Unless you beg me.”

“I won’t.”

He shrugs. “I’m only going to make you come. Now, are you wet for me?”

I set my jaw as a tear slides from my eye. He moves in, pressing a soft kiss to my wet cheek. “You won’t cry for long, my heart.”

I feel so rattled. “I’ll never stop crying.”

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