Page 40 of Pretty Little Thing

Nine

Clive

Nora moves immediately,turning away to open the car door. I lay a hand on her shoulder to guide her inside and take one last glance around the parking garage before following her.

The seat is clean and barely used from the looks of it. It’s also wide enough to comfortably seat three grown men. I feel a twinge of envy over it but it doesn’t last. A beige garment bag hangs from a bar above the door beside her and my lips twitch with inspiration.

“Take your pants off,” I tell her.

Nora bobs off the seat to push them down her ass.

“Slowly,”I add as I reach for my belt.

She does as she’s told, inching them down to rest by her ankles.

“Lay on your back.”

I pull my belt free but I keep it in hand. Nora shifts on the seat, pointing her feet at me as she eases down to rest her head by the opposite door.

“Give me your hands.”

She hesitates, her eyes bouncing from me to the belt.

“Do you trust me, Ms. Payne?” I ask.

She twitches slightly, giving it a moment’s thought before raising both of her hands.

I take hold of them, performing a simple knot to bind them together at the wrist. She sits forward, letting me pull them up over her head. I chuck the beige garment back to the floor and fasten her wrists to the bar.

Nora stares up at me, quivering with need and nervous fear and everything in-between.

I settle on the seat with my hands on her thighs. “How does that feel?” I ask her.

She exhales a shaking breath. “Good.”

“Do you like it?”

Her smile spreads, even if she doesn’t know it. “Yes,” she answers.

I hook my fingers into her panties. “Then, you’re gonna love this,” I say, sliding them to her ankles.

I move down the seat, positioning my face between her thighs. Her essence touches my nose and my mouth instantly waters for her. It takes all my self-control not to bury my face in her right now. I focus on her skin instead, brushing my lips along her inner thighs and teasing the sensitivity there.

Nora reacts as expected with labored breaths and quiet moans just for me. “Mr. Snow…” she says, requesting more.

I reach up her body to grasp her neck. “Shh,” I say. “You’ll come when I want you to.”

She squirms, raising her hips, and I tighten my grip to calm her.

“You want it that badly?” I ask. “Say it.”

“I want it,” she repeats.

“Beg me for it, then.”

“Please, Mr. Snow,” she says, speaking through the opening beneath her restrained hands. “I need it.”

I kiss her mound, taking a deep breath of her. “You need what?” I ask. “Be specific… and I’ll give you what you want.”

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