Page 28 of Savage Game
Sir sat back on his haunches and smiled wickedly as she struggled against the bindings he’d used to cuff her to the headboard.
Her heart slammed in her chest like a frightened, caged animal’s. She was naked, tied to a bed, and at the mercy of a still completely clothed man she barely knew. She froze and couldn’t look away from him.
Did I make him mad? Please, don’t hurt me.
He tilted his head without a trace of anger in his demeanor. Exuding determination and patience, he had that confident I’ll wait while you panic, but I expect you to conquer your fear countenance he’d adopted several times now during her stay with him.
Releasing the breath she’d been holding, she forced her muscles to relax. “I’m-I’m okay.”
His brow furrowed, and his scars puckered. Charlotte wanted to stroke and kiss that marred skin. The silly idea she could take away his pain fluttered through her mind, but the skin was healed, and the white lines indicated whatever gave him those marks had happened a long time ago. She wanted to ask what happened but didn’t dare.
He stroked his hand from her foot to her knee and back and remarked softly, “You know, this was a moment for you to use yellow or red, but I don’t think it ever occurred to you.”
“Ah.”
His cheek creased. “Thought so. Let’s add green for a go-ahead, shall we?”
Something dawned on her. “It’s like traffic lights.”
“Exactly.” His teeth flashed white against the day’s worth of stubble on his cheeks. “So what color are you now, Kittycat?”
She took stock of her body. Her heart was behaving, and her cuffed hands didn’t consume her thoughts any longer. “I’m nervous but not afraid. Green.” She lifted her gaze to him. “My color is green.”
“Brave little Kittycat.”
Sir pressed a sweet kiss to her lips before he moved over her jaw, caressing her skin with butter-soft velvety lips. Seemingly content with exploring her skin, nuzzling, and suckling, he moved at a snail’s pace to the sensitive spot where her shoulder met her neck. Charlotte canted her neck to the side to give him more access, marveling at the time he spent on simply kissing and tasting her. This foreplay had already taken more time than Liam’s entire idea of lovemaking, and that was before he grew cold, distant, and cruel toward her.
A pinch on her nipple made her gasp and arch her back. She panted as Master didn’t let go of the sensitive peak but held the pressure. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her lips together against the plea wanting to escape.
“Color?”
Involuntarily, she shook her head.
“Say it.”
“Y-Yellow.”
Immediately, he eased the pressure. “Didn’t I order you to leave him out of this bedroom?”
She wanted to curl up in a shameful ball, but both the cuffs and his body prevented her from moving, and she couldn’t even hide behind her long hair, every inch of her body exposed and vulnerable. “I’m sorry. I-I don’t want to think about him, but…” she broke off the sentence, not knowing how to continue.
He licked over the nipple he’d just abused, and natural lubrication slickened her inner thighs.
He hummed against her breast, sending shockwaves of sensation through her. “You like it when I put my mouth on you.”
It wasn’t a question, but she nodded anyway.
“Spread your legs for me.”
Too shy to blatantly flash him, she inched her feet apart and tried to keep her knees together.
He tipped his head forward and drew his brows down. It was all the reprimand she needed. She didn’t want him there, but then she really, totally did.
She let out an uncontrolled moan and dragged her thighs apart.
“Very pretty.”
Pretty? No woman was pretty down there, now, was she?
