Page 75 of Fearless

That would be a new record for me.

So I glare at him, lift my hips, and start moving up and down the length of his fingers. And he rewards me by bringing his thumb down so that every time I move closer to him, he brushes my clit.

I groan and try and move deeper into his touch, but the restraints give me barely more than an inch or two of leeway.

Frustration builds faster than a climax ever could. But I know if I complain or do anything but exactly what he commanded, then I’d be out of time.

I don’t want to know what comes after the third strike.

Except…of course I fucking do.

But I’m a terribly sore loser, and it’s been a long time since someone challenged me like Cillian has.

Perhaps ever.

Pain and pleasure mingle in my core as I start to ache hard and deep. As my arousal builds as slow as snow settling on a fucking mountain top.

Sure, there’s an avalanche in my future, but more likely I’ll have passed out from hyperventilating long before that wall of snow crashes into me.

Only one way out of this. And without breaking his rules.

He’s got to be the one to cave, not me.

So instead of suppressing my groans, instead of holding back my own giddy pleasure…I let myself lose control.

Utterly.

My eyes flutter half-closed. I don’t speed up—I slow down. Now I can feel every inch of his fingers sliding into me when I flow forward, and every inch when I withdraw.

I let any sound that wants slip out of my mouth. Whimpers, mewls, moans. Fucking anything. My pants mingle with those desperate pleas for release, and I know I sound ridiculous, but…

Cillian’s lips part.

His chest starts rising and falling ever faster.

It’s when his eyes drag down my body and settle on my pussy that I know I have him. I know I’m soaked—I can feel his fingers dripping when I push them into me.

“Please,” I whimper. “I can’t—”

“You’re doing this on purpose,” he growls, angry eyes flashing back up to my face. “Go faster, and you’ll come.”

I moan like I’m too lost in my own pleasure to understand what he’s saying. And in a way, I am. Because I have no idea if that anger is the kind that will have him crushing me under him and taking what he wants…or destroying everything and anything I ever try to build.

He slaps my tit so hard I gasp. Then again. But I can’t feel pain anymore—it’s all so fucking good. When he slaps my breast a third time, baring his teeth at me like a wild animal, I can’t help but laugh at him.

He did this to himself, with his rules and his commands.

And I think he realizes that, because there’s a second where it looks like he’s going to finish me off by ramming his fingers into me until I have no choice but to break apart for him…

And then he pushes away and yanks my restraints off me.

As each of my limbs come undone, his movements become more aggressive. By the time he’s on my last wrist, I hear something tear out of the wall behind when he wrenches the leather cuff away from me.

My body goes cold. Air traps in my lungs as my throat closes. I open my mouth to apologize, to beg, to do anything I can to stop him.

Do you purposely tear down his walls knowing it will release the animal he keeps caged inside?Trish wants to know.Or is that just a pleasant side effect of disobeying him, do you think?

Trish…you should get the fuck out of my head. You don’t want to be here for this.

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