Page 81 of Oblivion

“Your clothes are in the living room, but you need to do your hair and makeup. Hair up, please.”

Bewildered but intrigued, I grab my hairdryer and brush and set to work drying my hair. With less than an hour to get ready, I dry it, then pin it on top of my head in a sexily rumpled bun and apply a smoky eye and a nude lip.

When I step into the living room, I freeze to the spot at the sight of Evan in a crisp black suit and a white button-down, the collar open to reveal a glimpse of his throat and the top of his chest. His hair is styled into a side part, and his black-rimmed glasses only add to the sexy king-of-the-nerds vibe he’s exuding.

“Come here,” he says, beckoning me over to where a pile of boxes are stacked on the coffee table.

Holding the towel I’m still wearing up with my arms, I walk to him and take the hand he’s holding out to me. His eyes lock with mine, and a strange look flashes through his gaze.

“Don’t move,” he orders as he slips a fine strand of chain around my bare wrist and feeds a tiny padlock charm onto it.

My breath hitches as he blinks and lifts his gaze to me, daring me to protest.

I know I should. I know I should say or do something, but instead I swallow thickly and watch as he pulls out a small device and quickly melts the two ends of the chain together, fastening the bracelet to my wrist, the chain fused in a never-ending circle.

The moment he’s finished and the device is stored back in a small case, he exhales and visibly relaxes. When he looks at me, his expression is serene.

I don’t know why this is important to him, but clearly, it is. “How many more pieces of jewelry should I expect to wear?” I ask him.

Tugging my towel off, he throws it toward the bedroom and then pulls me into his arms.

“Nothing else permanent until I pierce your nipples and clit,” he says seriously.

“You are not piercing my nipples or my clit,” I shriek.

His smirk is all confidence. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you don’t feel any pain, and you’ll love it once it’s done and your sexy little nipples are adorned with my initials.”

Horror fills me. One of my earliest memories is of my mama taking me to have my ears pierced. Objectively, I know it didn’t hurt as much as my four-year-old’s memory tells me it did, but I remember the shock and pain, and I never want to willingly experience that again. “You are not piercing me, Evan. I’m serious. It’s bad enough that I have bracelets and anklets and this collar that I’ll have to cut off if I ever want to remove them. I am not having any metal stabbed through my body.”

I know I’m pushing him. He’s already threatened that if I remove the chains he’s fastened around my limbs, he’ll replace them with brands burned into my skin, but I’m scared for the first time since he started claiming me, and this is a hill I’m willing to die on.

Ignoring my angry tone, he cups my sex with his palm, parting my folds until he finds my clit and pushes back the hood. “You can tell me no all you want, but imagine how turned on you’ll get when I run a chain from the ring I’m going to put through the hood of your clit and attach it to your necklace. I’ll put you on your hands and knees in front of a mirror and make you watch how the chain sways and teases your clit every time I slam my cock into your greedy cunt. Imagine how sexy you’ll look with chains hanging from your necklace to your nipples. The metal is so fine no one but us would know you were wearing it. I’d send you to class without a bra with just the chain rubbing across your skin until you came home and begged me to ease theache it’d given you while you sat with wet panties desperate to be fucked and filled.”

I hate him so much right now because I wish the picture he just created sounded awful, but it doesn’t. I’ve read about bondage plenty of times, but the idea of ropes or cuffs always made me uncomfortable. But now, as I picture what he just described, I can’t help but react. The barely-there chain he fastened around my waist that ran between my breasts and up my bare spine looked and felt so sexy that the idea of having that, but the chains actually being attached to me, makes my body tighten and warm.

“Look at you, Wild One. No matter how many times I fuck you, you’re always greedy for more,” he purrs, cupping my chin and claiming my lips with his.

When he pulls back, his eyes are wild and dilated, but he steps away instead of soothing the fire he just stoked.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” I snap, feeling needy and even less interested in going out.

Not answering my question, he lifts the lid of an Agent Provocateur box and pulls out something that looks like half a bra made of gold metal.

“What…” My voice trails off as he circles me, then positions the cool metal beneath my breasts. The flat gold is shaped like the underwire of a bra and molds to my body, cupping beneath each breast, then rising to sit between them. Instead of straps, the bra has gold chains that secure around my back, then to the back of my necklace behind my neck. Hanging from the curve that sits between my breasts is a tiny padlock that I’ll bet has EM engraved on it.

“Fuck,” Evan groans as he steps back to admire me.

“If you pull chain panties out of that box, then I’m going back to bed,” I threaten.

Smirking, he lifts the box to show me it’s empty, then closes it and places it on the floor before moving to open the next box. This time, he pulls out a stunning white Tom Ford dress. When he helps me into it, the fabric slithers down my body, fitting me like it was made just for me.

The dress is white, floor-length with a split that hits me mid-thigh on one side. But it’s the plunging neck that dips all the way to my waist that gives the dress its impact. It’s obviously intended to be worn without a bra, but oddly, the gold bralette looks amazing. It’s sexy and the perfect accessory.

Despite my legs being covered, I feel practically naked without panties and my breasts so exposed, but when Evan shows me the gold sandals he’s paired to match the bralette then sinks to his knees to put them on my feet, I’m practically panting with desire.

His eyes are so full of savage need that I’m surprised not to find myself impaled on his cock, but instead, he hands me a gold evening bag and then offers me his arm.

Neither of us speaks as he drives our cart across campus to the valet parking station situated outside the underground parking lot that stores the students’ cars. His arm around my waist is heavy and possessive as we wait for his car to be delivered. The moment it arrives, he glares at the valet, then opens my door himself, helping me get situated inside before he closes it.

---