Page 117 of Ivory's Ruin Romance

Hot puffs of breath warmed her skin as he tasted her for his pleasure. Teasing as she’d done earlier. His lips were slow to meet hers, instead lingering where he saw fit and savoring the spots he found particularly sweet—the hinge of her jaw, the blunt tip of her chin, the pout of her bottom lip.

Finally, his tongue flickered into her mouth, and the world spun sideways. She reached up to grab onto something, anything to keep her from tumbling over. What she found was his waist, the firm furrows of his abdomen, and the soft cotton of his shirt. Her fingers moved on their own accord, dipping under his clothes to admire his tight skin and the muscled chest that hardened under her fingertips.

His mouth grew greedier. Ravenous. Gripping her face, his fingers pushed into the hollow of her cheeks and forced her mouth open wide. He held her still as he sought out every crevice and secret as if to prove each belonged to him.

She raked her nails through the tufts of coarse hair on his chest and pressed her palm to his heart. Passion sparked in the small gap separating their bodies, filling her with hunger. Fueling her fire until it roared.

“Enough,” he rasped, breaking their contact with a shudder. He circled her wrists and pulled them out of his shirt, placing them at her side.

She panted to catch her breath, then perked up at the clink of metal and a quick slide of leather. His belt had been freed.

Its cool length snaked around her neck, and Adrian pulled it taut until the cold buckle nestled against her pulse.

“Come,” he ordered with a tug.

Stepping forward, she followed his voice and the patient pull of the leash. They’d been no more than a handful of steps from the bedroom, but he led her to the left instead, twisting and turning until she lost track of where they might be. Had the apartment always been this big and spacious? Her steps became wary, oriented only by his movements and the magnetism of their connection.

A door closed behind her, and she startled with a jump. How had they ended up in his room?

Adrian dropped the end of the belt and let the end fall on her chest. “Take a step back to reach the door,” he instructed. “Lean against it.”

Anticipation diluted her jumbled reality. She shuffled, then felt straps dangling between her skin and the hardwood door. The air began to buzz, swirling around her as she focused all her energy on her black knight. Her world reduced to him alone, body filled only by the sensations he granted.

“I bought us something new for today,” he continued. “Could hardly wait to get you all tied up.” He picked up her wrists and slipped them into a strap one at a time, tightening the loop until her hands could turn but wouldn’t easily fall out. Her fingers curled around the thick woven fabric and found it secured to the door above her head.

“I’m going to pick you up and secure your legs,” he warned. His hands slipped under her thighs, biceps bunching as he lifted and set her into a padded strap. Once he helped her get balanced, he fit a bigger loop under her leg above the knee and ensured it was snug.

The strap pulled her thigh over to the bedroom door, and after he repeated the process on the other side, she found herself spread wide, hanging from strings like a puppet. The belt still hung loose around her neck, and it all effectively gave him control over every part of her, able to move or restrain her limbs at a whim.

He hummed, voice deliciously low. An appreciative growl. “You’re so pretty like this.” His hand smoothed between her pert breasts, moving down her stomach and settling over her womb. “All pink and wet for me.”

She didn’t need to see it for herself, her pulse echoing between her legs.

He spread her wide with his fingers, and she held her breath. The swell of her clit must be visible, her need more than pathetic—a display of desperation for her Sir, a surrender to his mercy—yet she still wanted to beg for his touch.

The knife trailed up her inner thigh. All the air left her lungs, abdomen tensing at its cold, cruel edge. It traced an unpredictable pattern to her hip, then snaked down and stopped just short of her pubic hair.

A short tap came down on her clit. Shock tore through her like a bullet of acetic relief, but the backside of the blade vanished as quickly as it came.

She groaned and let her head fall against the door. The belt tugged at her throat. Her desire bent in two, instinct demanding she hide and protect herself from the threat while the rest of her thrummed with arousal. Pleasure from being at the receiving end of a weapon, of a tool used to inflict pain and suffering.

“That’s my good girl,” Adrian praised. “Doesn’t it feel good to be my little doll? A plaything for my personal use?”

The knife tapped her left nipple, achingly hard and erect.

“Yes,” she whispered as molten heat spread through her veins. “Thank you, sir.”

A tap to her right nipple.

Her hips slanted forward as much as the restraints would allow, succumbing to the sensation and her growing desire. “Please, sir,” she whimpered.

“Aw, already begging so pretty for me.” The blade lay flat against her clit, its throbbing an unbearable rhythm that drowned out every other thought. He held her spread open as her body warmed the metal, then he tipped the sharp edge away and slid the knife over her bundle of nerves. “Say my name when you come.”

The knife lifted, then tapped her again and again, relentless as she squirmed and panted. His attacks were direct and steady, unyielding and swift.

“Adrian, sir. Please—” Her tongue twisted around his name as the orgasm rippled down to her bones. A chorus of bright, shimmering fireworks lit up her cells and flared brilliant light throughout her core. She slumped, grateful for the straps to keep her in place.

The knife vanished, and her knight leaned in to bite her lip. His bulge pressed against her sensitive flesh, and he licked along the inside of her mouth as if he could taste his name tangled up her pleasure. Then he replaced his mouth with metal—warm and slick, coated in her cum.

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