Page 10 of Cashmere Cruelty

I could sob right now. What kind of monster could give someone all that pleasure, only to take it away?

“Please.”

“I saidnicely.”

I arch off the wall. “Please, sir,” I babble incoherently, glistening with effort, my breasts falling out what little’s left of my blouse. “Please, please, fuck me,please?—”

He kisses me silent.

And then, finally,finally, he gives me what I need.

There is no restraint this time. No lingering concerns. There is only want, and heat, and waves of pleasure rolling over me. Threatening to pull me under.

I hope to God they do.

Because I can feel my orgasm building inside me. Higher, higher, tighter, tighter. “Please,” I moan, no longer knowing what I’m asking for. Only that I needit more than I’ve ever needed anything in my whole damn life. “Please, sir?—”

A bite on my breast. My skin tingles with pain, then pleasure. I can feel him sucking, ready to devour me.

I wish he would.

“What do you want,kalina?” he asks then, nearly sweet.

“I want you,” I keen, desperation in my voice. “I want to come, want you to make me, want you to come inside me?—”

“You want me to breed you?” he groans, lips back on my throat.

Fuck no, the rational part of me says.That sounds like a nightmare.

Unfortunately, it’s not the part that’s calling the shots right now.

“Yes!” I cry out. Even though I know it’s just dirty talk, it feels insanely hot to think it. That this stranger might mark me in such a permanent way; own me. “Yes, fuck, breed me, make me yours?—!”

I come so hard I nearly black out.

My body shudders, suspended in the air, held up by nothing but the blue tie and him. And then I feel him shudder, too, fucking into me harder, harder, until?—

I come again. I don’t know how that’s possible; I still haven’t stopped coming from before. But as soon as I feel him spill inside me, that spark flares anew, making me arch all the way off the wall.

I nearly rip the tie off the hanger in the process. In any other context, it would be unforgivable.

Right now, I don’t care.

But that’s part of what sobers me up in the end. I’m still catching my breath against this man—this man I don’t even know the name of—when, terrifyingly, something else happens.

The door chimes.

“Oh,fuck,” I curse, scrambling to get my feet back on solid ground.

“Let them leave,” the man murmurs into the crook of my neck.

“Hello?” calls the voice I instantly recognize as Mr. Boyd’s. “April, are you there?”

“Please untie me,” I squeak as quietly as I can.

“Why? I’m not done with you yet.”

“I’m definitely done withyou,” I hiss, trying to magic my way out of my bonds like a sartorial Houdini.

---