Page 65 of Disturbed Lucidity

Holding me close, he rose to his feet, with me in his arms and carried me toward my bedroom. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

Placing me on my feet, he stepped back, crossed his arms over his chest and firmly ordered, “Strip.”

“What?” I gasped, taking a step back. “Right now? I haven’t showered.”

“Think I give a fuck. Strip.”

When I didn’t move, Luc sighed and reached for his belt.

My eyes widened as he glared at me while he slowly and methodically unbuckled his belt, then slid it from the loops. Folding the leather belt in half, he said, “If I have to ask again, I will whip your ass until you won’t be able to sit down for a fucking week. Then I will whip you again for making me wait.”

He looked at me with a wicked gleam in his eyes and made a sinister promise of unleashing pure evil if I refused to comply.

I wanted to immerse myself in his darkness, to release a piercing scream, to fight against it, and then, ultimately succumb. The anticipation of pain filled me with excitement as it unfurled inside me, igniting my nerves and enveloping me in a fiery sensation. I craved the sensation of aching muscles and tender bruises as a testament to the intensity of the experience. I yearned for Luc to exploit my vulnerability, force me to surrender to his rawest instincts and engage in wild, uninhibited, savage fucking. I didn’t want him to tease me mockingly or spank me playfully. I wanted him to evoke tears, desperation, the aching longing from within me. I craved for him to elicit cries and tears of agony from me, derive pleasure from it, guide me to the brink, and then propel me over it.

Seeing his hard cock pressed against his jeans ratcheted my desire higher. I could feel my arousal seep out of my aching pussy. A surge of wild need empowered me as I kicked my Chucks off. Unbuttoning my jeans, I let them slide down my legs, as I reached for the hem of my shirt, quickly lifting it over my head.

The second I was naked, he barked, “Drop.”

“Say something nice.”

“Drop. Now.”

I smirked, shaking my head. “Nicer.”

He frowned. “You want something nice?”

“Yes.”

Then, with a spark of mischief in his eyes, he said, “Roses are red. Our souls are cold. Now, get on your knees, and do as you’re fucking told.”

Smiling, I dropped to my knees.

Looking up at him, I shrugged. “It’s the thought that counts, right?”

“No more talking.”

“Works for me.”

He growled.

I lowered my eyes, and I could sense the smugness in his expression, as he firmly grasped my chin to make me look at him once more.

“I told you I’m not good at the other stuff. But I am good at this. You crave pain, and I enjoy inflicting it. We’re a match made in Hell. You want me to punish you, I will, but I need you to talk to me. I need to know your hard limit, Ivy. Everyone has one, and until we find yours, I will call the shots. Understood?”

I nodded.

“Good. Now tell me what you want.”

I frowned. He knew how difficult it was for me to vocalize my desires.

He raised an eyebrow, my cheeks heated before I finally stuttered. “I want to you to suffocate me with your cock.”

“Is that all?”

I slowly shook my head. “No. I want everything you’ve got.”

His eyes darkened and he grinned wickedly. “Oh, sweetheart. You shouldn’t have said that.”

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