Page 97 of House of Lies

But I only have seconds to appreciate it before the warmth of Ethan’s body brushes my ass and thighs. Then I remember I’m spread shamefully wide, bound in place, unable to close my legs, my pussy positioned at just the right height for his cock.

The tip of which he drags over my apex from clit to asshole.

I push up onto my elbows and would have straightened more if he hadn’t shoved a hand on my lower back, keeping my stomach pinned to the cool marble.

“Do I have your full attention, toy?” His voice is rough and thick with pent up emotion, and while the stubborn mule who’s usually kicking up a fuss inside my head wants nothing more than to tell him to go fuck himself…I don’t dare.

“Yes…Sir.”

His satisfied rumble is almost worth the humiliation.

Almost.

But no one’s ever used me like this. Like a plaything whose sole existence is for their own pleasure.

It’s terrifying.

And kinky as hell.

I’m panting, the anticipation killing me. My pussy is tingling something fierce as I wait for Ethan to touch me again, to fuck me, to do something.

But when I glance over my shoulder at him, he’s just staring at my body, his gaze flickering up and down my thighs and back and between my legs like he’s drinking in the sight of me.

“Ethan…”

His gaze darts to my eyes. One side of his mouth curls up. He brings the flat of his hand against my ass so hard I see stars.

“Fuck!”

“It’s fuck, Sir,” he says.

I bite back another curse as he lays a second slap on my other cheek, but I can’t stop a moan when he pushes a finger into my pussy and curls it, rubbing the inside of my walls like he’s searching for something.

His other hand is still pressed to the small of my back, keeping me in place as he teases me with his finger, eyes fixed on mine.

Is he trying to find my g-spot or something? Because I read about that. Not everyone has one, and even if they do, trying to find it is like a quest for the Holy Grail, because the chances?—

His lips curl into a smile when my expression changes.

“I don’t like that!” I blurt out, shifting my hips in a desperate attempt to move away from his touch.

But he’s inside me, so there’s no shimmying away from the weird, faintly unpleasant burning ache inside my core.

I suddenly need to pee.

Like really, really urgently.

“Stop! Please!”

He ignores me, which pisses me off until that feeling changes. It’s almost like I’m going numb, but there’s also an intoxicating pleasure building deep, deep inside me.

He adds another finger, and I moan loudly, my hands slapping down onto the marble table as if I’m in danger of sliding off.

“Still want me to stop?”

“Yes. No. Fuck!” I don’t know what’s happening to me, but it’s exquisite, and weird, and I’m teetering between loving it and hating it. “Harder.”

“Since when did you start calling the shots, toy?”

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