Page 80 of Chaos Carnival

A wicked smile curved my lips as I murmured, “You like this, baby? Such an eager masochist.”

His body went stiff beneath me as he continued to stroke his cock. Every muscle taut over the mattress as I branded him with my touch. His breath hitched, his chest rising and falling as I stole what little fight he had left. He was completely at my mercy, a pliant, willing captive, and I couldn't resist the urge to test just how far he'd let me go.

I dragged my fingertip down his torso, relishing the way his muscles quivered and jumped. The red angry T on his skin stood out beautifully, and I knew he'd love it as much as I did. He bucked his hips, seeking more, but then he stopped stroking himself, his hand pausing as if waiting for my next move, breath hissing through his teeth.

My eyes held his captive as I whispered, “Are you going to come for me now, Maverick?”

A shudder ran through him, and he moaned around the ball gag, breath stuttering as he fought for control. His eyes, dark and dilated, pleaded with me, but still he shook his head, denying the release I knew he craved.

“Not yet?” I teased, stroking his chest with my free hand. “You're not ready?”

Again, he shook his head, his eyes never leaving mine, the desire burning in their depths.

I smiled, my fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin. “You want some more?”

His sharp nod sent a thrill through me, the eagerness in his eyes sparking my own desire. His skin was hot against my palm, random soft moans around the gag.

With a subtle shift of my will, I dissolved the ball gag and transported us to another place. This one a dark, lush bedroom with velvet-covered walls and a massive four-post bed draped with heavy black curtains. Candles flickered, casting dancing shadows that teased our consciousness.

Maverick's gaze flicked around the room, taking in the new surroundings, and then he met my eyes, a silent question in his. I gave him a slow, feline smile in response. “Just a little change of scenery. Don't worry, I'll bring you back in one piece.”

His responding grin sent a thrill of anticipation through me. “Wouldn't dream of doubting you, Tess. Not anymore.”

I stepped closer, my power crackling around us like a physical caress. “Good boy,” I breathed, my hand lifting to trace the line of the gag, my knuckles brushing his cheek. “Now, let's see how good you really are at following orders.”

His eyes darkened at the word 'orders', but he nodded his acquiescence.

“That depends,” he managed, his voice rough, “on what those orders are.”

I smiled then, slow and dangerous. “I've been thinking,” I began, my voice a velvet purr, “about all the naughty things we could do together. But first, I want you to earn it.”

His eyebrows rose, curiosity warring with desire, but he remained silent, waiting for my instructions.

“I want you to count,” I said, my voice low and commanding. “Out loud. Every time you feel pleasure. Every touch, every kiss,every little thing I do that makes you feel good.” I leaned closer, my lips brushing his ear as I added, “Understand?”

He drew in a sharp breath, the idea clearly appealing, and he gave a slight, restrained nod. “Yes, Tess.”

“You can start now,” I purred, tracing the line of his jaw with my finger.

“One.” His breath hitched, and he swallowed hard, already battling his control.

“Good boy.”

I smiled and ran my hand down his chest, enjoying the play of muscles beneath my palm. “Two.” His head fell back as I scraped my nails lightly down his abdomen. “Oh, God, Tess. Three.”

I laughed, delighted by his reaction, and let my hand continue its journey downward. “Mmmm you like that?”

“Four.” His hips jerked as my hand closed around him and stroked his throbbing cock. “Five. Oh, fuck, six.”

“Keep counting,” I whispered, my mouth lowering to his neck, my teeth nipping at the sensitive skin.

“Seven, eight, nine...” His breath came in sharp gasps now, each number ripped from him as he struggled to maintain control. His pleasure was a tangible thing between us, his desire spiking with each touch, each kiss, each stroke of my hand.

“I think,” I murmured, my own breath coming in short bursts, “we'd better see just how high you can count, pet.”

He laughed then, a raw, harsh sound that held a note of triumph. “Tess, you have no idea. I could—” His words turned into a groan as I tightened my grip, and he bucked against my hand. “Eleven, twelve, thirteen!”

I grinned, delighted by his response. “Keep going,” I encouraged, my voice soft and sultry, my mouth moving to his, stealing his breath in a kiss. “Don't stop.”

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