Page 2 of The Perfect Bargain

“Your safe word?” Elijah’s voice reminds me, sending a chill down my spine.

“Pineapple,” I breathe, my heart pounding in my chest.

Elijah’s fingers graze my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He pulls the straps of my dress down, slowly, carefully, until I hear it fall to the floor. There’s an intimacy to the way he undresses me, a gentleness I hadn’t expected.

His hands explore every inch of my body, his touch light and teasing. My senses are heightened, every touch amplified. Thesuspense is agonizing, and I can’t help but squirm beneath his fingertips.

He’s got me. Hook, line, and sinker. His fingers trace my skin, a slow burn that spreads through me. His lips crash into mine, the kiss demanding, greedy. My pulse spikes. I arch, desperate for more, but Elijah sets the pace—his pace. My breath hitches as his mouth trails down my neck, his teeth grazing just enough to send a shiver straight to my core. I’m on fire, about to combust.

Elijah’s hands slide down, slipping under my panties, dragging them down my legs with excruciating slowness. My heart pounds. The anticipation is torture, every touch lighting me up like a fuse. Then, suddenly—his tongue. I gasp, fingers gripping the sheets as his mouth moves against me, relentless. My body hums with pleasure, and I can’t control the sounds spilling from me. I’m coming undone, and he knows it. I can barely breathe, a strangled moan escaping as he doubles down, pushing me right to the edge.

Then, he stops.

“Not yet.” His voice is a low growl, sending chills through me. He’s completely in control, and I’m powerless, aching for more. It’s agonizing, exquisite, and I can’t get enough. He knows exactly how to keep me hanging on.

He starts again, and I can’t take it. I’m shaking, the tension inside me unbearable. My breath comes in short, ragged gasps. Sensing how close I am, he picks up the pace, his tongue driving me wild. My entire body trembles, and I can’t hold back anymore. With a scream, I come apart, the orgasm tearing through me like a storm. I’m breathless, my body still pulsing from the aftershocks, feeling like I’ve just touched the stars.

“I didn’t say you could come.” Elijah’s whisper is hot against my ear. His voice is rough, a tease, and I squirm beneath him.

“I couldn’t help it,” I manage to say, breathless. He tightens his hold, flipping me over like I weigh nothing, pressing his hard body against mine. I can feel him, and the need that courses through me is instant, undeniable.

“You’re a greedy girl,” he growls, his fingers biting into my hips. He grinds against me, and I moan, soft and needy. “But if you can’t follow orders, you’ll get punished.”

That threat? Pure gasoline on the fire. I want more.

“Please,” I breathe, trembling beneath him.

“What was that?” His voice is dangerous now, a low rumble.

“Please,” I say louder, my body desperate for more. He chuckles, his lips ghosting over my skin, making me shiver.

“Since you asked so nicely…” Then, his hand lands hard on my ass. The sting is sharp, cutting through the pleasure, but damn if it doesn’t make me crave more. He spanks me again, harder this time, and I cry out, the pleasure almost too much.

“Count,” he commands, voice like ice. “And thank me.”

I swallow hard, my body trembling. “One. Thank you.”

“Louder.”

“One! Thank you!” His hand comes down again, that perfect mix of pain and pleasure that leaves me breathless.

“Two. Thank you.”

“Three. Thank you.”

By the time we hit four, I’m a mess, desperate, on the edge of losing it. I’m soaked, and when his fingers dip inside me, Elijah groans. “Fuck, Carmen.” His voice is tight, rough with need, and I know he’s barely holding it together.

Then he slams into me, hard and fast, no warning. I gasp, my body adjusting to his size, and it feels so good, too good. I push back, needing more, and he gives it to me—quick, rough, relentless. His fingers dig into my skin, his grip almost painful, but I don’t care. I’m lost in the sensation, in him. The world falls away, and it’s just us, our bodies moving in sync.

Suddenly, he pulls out, and I whimper at the loss, my body aching for him.

“Patience,” he says, his breathing heavy. “I want you to look at me.” He reaches for the blindfold, and the darkness fades as it slips off. His blue eyes are the first thing I see—intense, burning with desire. I can’t look away. He finishes untying the fabric with quick fingers and tosses it aside. He pulls me onto his lap, his grip firm around my neck, tight but not too tight. The rush is intoxicating.

“Who’s in control?” His voice is low, rough.

“You are,” I whisper, barely able to form the words.

“And who owns you?”

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