Page 46 of The Secrets We Share

“Ready?” I ask, my hands gripping her hips.

She nods and reaches for the top leather straps of the swing, holding on tight as I lift and deposit her ass onto the seat. Her legs swing, laden down with her thick combat boots. Propping the right on my thigh, I quickly remove it and throw it out of the way before bending her leg and setting her foot in the stirrup. Ido the same with the left and stand back to enjoy my view of her spread open and suspended for me.

The groan of footsteps on the catwalk outside hits my ears. I have a second to decide if this is something I’m willing to let others experience.

It’s not.

I hurry across the small space, fingers wrapping around the curtain before pulling it closed as a pair of eyes meet mine before disappearing behind the black fabric.

Not today, motherfucker. Not ever.

I spin on my heels back in her direction. Her soft chuckle muffled behind her dainty hand.

“Something funny, little one.” My tone is serious, even though I’m not.

“No, Sir,” she manages through a blinding smile.

My knees hit the floor with a thud in front of her, and that smile quickly disappears, replaced by a fire in her dark eyes.

“I want your hands in the loops, little one. If you take them out, you’ll owe me.”

“Owe you what?”

I bite the inside of her thigh at her indignant tone that slips free. “I guess you’ll find out when you don’t listen.”

With the flick of my tongue against her clit, I cut off her following argument. I won’t go easy on her; my earlier threat is at the front of my mind. I want her dripping and needy, writhing so hard against my face I can’t breathe in anything other than the scent of her.

Teasing her slit and probing into her tight canal gets me exactly what I want. When her thighs tighten around my head, I know the crash of her releases is coming. Her screams drown out the music's bass downstairs, adding to the sensual rhythm.

She’s managed to keep her hands tight in the loops, but I have a feeling she won’t be so strong with the next round. Myfingers slip in and out of her cunt quickly. Scissoring to stretch her out.

“More,” she gasps, her head thrown back and eyes closed.

I pull out, slapping a firm hand against her glistening pussy. “What was that, little one?” I ask, voice low and menacing.

“Sorry. More, please.” She pauses, one eye peaking open down at me, before she follows up with a drawn-out, “Sir.”

My hand comes down twice in quick succession at her sass. That’s what tips her over. She lets go of the loops, covering herself from a third assault.

I rise from my position on the floor before her, barking a harsh, “Move your hands right now.”

She whimpers at my tone but pulls away slowly, knowing the punishment for moving her hands and covering herself isn’t worth it.

I click my tongue, stepping away from her. “Oh, little one. What are we going to do with you now.”

“Make me come,” she says, dripping with faked sweetness. The playful glint in her eyes only adds to it.

“Now, why the fuck would I let you do that?”

Her face scrunches while her tantalizing finger taps against her cheek. “Because you want to.”

“Is that so?”

She nods enthusiastically, resuming her position with her hands in the cuffs. Stepping back from where she waits, eagerness is written all over her face as I walk to the edge of the room. There’s a small panel in the wall that hasn’t been covered in mirrors. I shove against it and pop it free, revealing a velvet-lined compartment.

Rows of small instruments line the space. Clamps, cages, gags, and crops each have their spot. I trace my fingers across the different materials, from cool metal and smooth leather to the hard silicone of a ball gag, which I pluck from its hanger.

“You, little one, seem to have a lot to say tonight.”

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