Page 21 of Little Puppet

“Do you?” I ask.

“Do I what, puppet?” His face drops even further, and my already throbbing core tightens even more, begging for whatever this man will give me.

Scraps, even.

“Do you care?”

His lips dust mine, his face moving back and forth, the soft skin of his lips driving me wild with need.

“Oh, darling girl, why would I be here, teaching you lessons, if I didn’t?”

I delete the distance between us by lifting my face.

He pulls back quickly, evading my kiss.

Grabbing the box, he has me arching under its power again, and this time, I don’t think he’ll ever let up.

Orgasm is around the corner, but he turns it back off, diminishing it.

“I don’t kiss.”

“Why?” The question comes out as a plead.

He turns the dial, but not enough. “Because it’s too personal.”

I lift my head off the pillow to argue thatthisexperience is too personal, but he turns the dial full out, and I seize again.

“No more words, puppet. Scream for me.”

I do just that. Over and over, he takes me to the very edge of pleasure, only to rip it away.

I’m a sniveling, shaking mess, dripping with sweat and begging for relief by the time he pulls the device from my body and shoves two fingers inside me, hovering over me like the maniacal god that he is.

“You need to come, puppet?”

“Please,” I whisper because it’s all I have the strength to do. “Please, master.”

“Mm,” he groans, satisfaction in his voice. “You’re so beautiful when you behave for me, Grace. It’s like you’re the only star in my galaxy. The center of my universe. All is right when you’re a good little puppet.”

I’m right there. All the torture I’ve endured this last hour is about to be rewarded. My belly burns low, and my body is culminating in an orgasm that will be transcendent. But then, he pulls his fingers out, leaning down to kiss my forehead.

“Good girls get rewarded. You weren’t my good girl, darling. Goodnight.”

In all my frustration, I want to fucking rage. But all I can do is watch him take his godly fingers and little black box back to his room as he leaves me tied to the bed at four points, throbbing and wishing I’d been his good little puppet.

And that last thought scares the shit out of me.

Chapter 7

I’m up before Grace. She’s sleeping on her stomach, ass perfectly poked up, one leg cocked up in an L shape. No wonder she hasn’t been able to sleep; her strings would never allow her to lie like that.

I’d come in after she was asleep and unhooked the cuffs from around her wrists and ankles, freeing her so she could sleep. It was a calculated risk. Something in me felt shitty after leaving her there whimpering for me in a puddle of her sweat and arousal.

That’s new for me.

I’ve never cared before.

I sigh as I slowly work my way onto the bed and work only three strings onto her back, the one over her spine and the two next to it. Hopefully, it’s not a stupid move. But these three are the bigger hoops I pierced her with. She’d have to rip them out, and they’d be very painful.

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