Page 77 of Carnival Shadows

I nip at her, not enough to cause pain but enough to send shocks through her body. Her body tenses as I thrust my tongue deep inside her. Her hands clench into fists, the ropes biting into her skin.

“Oh fuck,” she moans. “Remy, please...”

Hearing my name on her lips sends a thrill through me. I suckle her, my fingers delving into the slick folds of her cunt. My tongue teases her swollen clit, drawing out her pleasure.

Her cries become more urgent. I love the way she sounds completely wrecked, the sounds of her pleasure filling the night air. I growl in response, my tongue and fingers moving faster.

Her back bows, ropes creaking as she strains against her bonds. Her muscles tense, body rigid—and then she’s coming, crying out my name. Her arousal fills my mouth.

Even as her orgasm washes over her, I don’t stop. I lap at her greedily, drawing out her pleasure, reveling in her taste.

I slip my mask back to hide my smile as I straighten. Her chest heaves, breasts rising and falling rapidly, nipples tight. I stroke her bound arms, feeling the tension in the ropes, knowing she’s still sensitive, aroused, and desperate for more.

Meeting her gaze, I ask, “Ready for more, little stalker?”

Her eyes widen at my question, and she knows our game. Even as she denies it, her body aches for more. I see it in the way her bound wrists strain against the ropes, her chest heaving with rapid breaths.

“No,” she replies, but her tone lacks conviction. “Please, that’s enough.”

I chuckle, already shedding my pants, eager to feel her around me. “Last chance to change your mind, baby. This could get rough.”

Her lips press together. She knows the rules. She knows the safe word. If she doesn’t use it, we both know she wants it.

“No more,” she gasps, the pretense thinning. “Please, it’s too much.”

I step between her wide-spread thighs, positioning myself at her entrance. Her body is bared and vulnerable, open and offered to me. I curl my fingers around her thighs, preparing to thrust.

“Last chance,” I say, watching her face. “Say it, and I’ll stop.”

The pulse point in her throat throbs as she swallows hard. She could say it. She could use the safe word. But she doesn’t.

I push inside her pussy, enjoying her sharp intake of breath as I fill her. Her body stretches to accommodate me.

With each thrust, her body sways in the ropes, exposed and helpless. Her cries echo through the forest, and I know she’s pushing her voice louder, wanting her fictional pleas to be heard.

“That’s it, scream for me,” I growl, pulling out almost completely before slamming back into her. “Let them hear how much you want it.”

I give another fierce thrust, groaning as her cunt clenches around me. She’s so tight, and I know how good it feels for her, how hard she’s struggling not to lose control.

“You love it,” I accuse, voice rough. “Admit it.”

“No...” But her words are breathless, yielding. Her head tosses back as I withdraw and thrust deep again.

Her resistance is exactly what I crave. That fight makes me harder and intensifies my need to possess her completely. I grip her thighs, marking her perfect skin with the pressure of my fingers.

With each brutal stroke, I watch her body respond, see the flush of pleasure and pain on her skin, smell her arousal, and hear the needy little noises she tries to suppress. She wants to play the innocent victim, but her body betrays her.

Her cries echo through the woods, but I crave more volume, more desperation. With my free hand, I strike her exposedbreast, enjoying the satisfying slap of skin on skin. She bucks against me, a startled cry escaping her lips.

“You like that?” I taunt, knowing the answer. “You like the pain?”

“No,” she insists, but the denial comes too late. Her swollen clit, so tightly bound, betrays her. She’s so wet, so ready.

I bite back a groan as I plunge into her. “Liar.” Each thrust pulls another little cry from her, turning her flesh raw and exposing her to the night air. Only when she’s marked by me, body throbbing with my possession, will I be satisfied.

And when she’s begging me to stop, when her gorgeous flesh is throbbing and sore, when her voice is hoarse from all her pleading... that’s when I’ll really get started. That’s when I’ll enjoy breaking her in the best ways possible.

“Remy, wait!” Her voice takes on a different tone I haven’t heard before. I pause, looking down at her bare, bound body, ropes cutting into her perfect skin.

---