Page 25 of Carnival Master

I shake my head, lost in the depths of his eyes.

“I’m going to worship every fucking inch of this body.” His hand slides to my hip, squeezing gently. “I will show you how gorgeous you are, baby girl. By the time I’m done, you won’t have a single doubt in that pretty head that you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”

My breath catches. The raw desire in his voice makes my knees weak. “Tyson...”

“Look at me.” His fingers cup my chin. “These curves? They drive me crazy. That asshole doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you, let alone make you doubt yourself.”

The intensity of his words hits me like a physical force. No one’s ever talked to me like this—like I’m something precious and desirable rather than someone who needs fixing.

“I see how you try to hide yourself,” he continues, his thumb brushing my bottom lip. “The way you cross your arms over your chest, tug at your clothes. It stops now.”

Tyson’s thumb strokes my jaw gently as his other hand rests on the small of my back, pulling me closer. My pulse races, and desire mixes with an edge of fear as his fingers tighten around my throat. A tingle runs through me, and I tilt my head back, inviting him to apply more pressure. He knows exactly what I need.

“Look into my eyes.” His voice is a low rumble, commanding my compliance.

I lift my gaze to meet his, the intensity in his eyes making my breath hitch. He stares into me, searching for any sign of hesitation or fear. I hold his gaze, silently assuring him that I want this and need it.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” His thumb brushes my bottom lip as he speaks, his hand still wrapped around my throat. I nod, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Use your voice. Tell me you understand.”

Swallowing hard, I force my voice past the tightness in my throat. “I understand.”

“Good.” His grip relaxes slightly, but his fingers remain at my neck. “Does it turn you on when I’m dominant?”

I can’t hold back the shiver that runs through me. “Yes.” My voice is barely a whisper.

“Good.” The corners of his mouth lift in a half-smile. “Because I like to engage in BDSM. I’m going to tie you up, spank that gorgeous ass of yours, and make you scream my name. And you’re going to fucking love it.”

Tyson’s words strike something deep within me, lighting a fire I never knew existed. Submitting to him and being completely at his mercy is more enticing than I imagined. And how he looks at me—like he can see straight through my walls—thrills me.

“Strip for me, baby girl.” His voice is a low command.

I swallow hard, my fingers moving to the zipper of my dress. I don’t need to ask why—I want to be his good girl.

Slowly, I pull down the zipper, feeling his eyes on me the entire time. With a deliberate shrug, I let the dress slide off my shoulders and pool at my feet, leaving me standing before him in nothing but my black lace bra and matching panties. The cool air of the trailer raises goosebumps on my exposed skin.

His gaze rakes over me, making me feel more naked than I already am. My nipples tighten beneath the lace, and I can’t suppress a small whimper as I anticipate what’s to come.

“You’re beautiful.” His voice is a gravelly murmur. “But you’re wearing too much.”

I wet my lips with the tip of my tongue. “What do you want me to do?”

He doesn’t respond; he raises an eyebrow as if challenging me to disobey.

With a swift motion, I unclasp my bra, shimmying out of it and tossing it onto a nearby chair. The material of my panties is growing damp from my desire.

“Panties, too. Nice and slow.” His eyes shine with lust, but he stands there, unmoving.

I grab the edge of my panties and slowly slide them down my thighs, over my knees, and finally past my ankles. I step out of them, feeling incredibly exposed but also empowered. I know he wants me, and that desire fuels my confidence.

Tyson’s gaze burns a path over my body, lingering on my breasts, my hips, and then my pussy. “Get on the bed, Sofia. On your back.”

I climb onto the bed, the sheets soft against my naked skin, and lie down, my heart hammering in my chest. I watch him, anticipation coursing through my veins like molten lava.

He doesn’t join me immediately. Instead, he stands there, taking in the sight of me before him like a feast. “Such a beautiful sight, baby girl. Just fucking perfect.”

His words thrill me. I want to be his—completely and utterly.

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