Page 112 of Risky Game

But option two?

I deserved it.

I knew it as soon as I hurried to his room. Two items were set on his bed, and they couldn’t have been starker against his white duvet. Handcuffs and a toy I had never purchased and had skipped over the day I bought the handcuffs.

Oh yes. Logan might have given me option one and would have done it for me if I needed it, but this… this was what he wanted. This was where we connected.

I stripped out of my clothes, folded them on the chair in his sitting room, and took a seat at the edge of the bed. Naked. Seconds passed. A ticking clock on his wall a countdown to when he’d walk in.

Five minutes was an eternity and I was already dripping wet, heart racing with anticipation. I ignored the fear of that toy and what it meant, where it’d go, and knew he chose to wait so long to begin my torture because I deserved this.

The wait killed me.

He absolutely knew I’d choose this, but I could still surprise him.

I scooted back on the bed, spread my legs, and planted my feet at the edge of the bed before leaning back. I picked up the handcuffs and held them in my hand.

An offering to him.

A thousand heartbeats later, his door opened. Click closed behind him. I kept my gaze on the ceiling. He stepped toward the end of the bed, and I glanced at him. His gaze was in between my legs, and he was now without a shirt.

“I’ve missed this,” he said and reached out. He brushed his fingers along my seam and groaned at the wetness there. Without delay, he shoved two fingers inside of me and I yelped from the surprise, the hint of pain before he began working them slowly. “You want this?”

He added his thumb, and I bit down on my lip to keep from screaming already.

“Please.”

He worked me into a frenzy with his fingers and thumb. He circled my clit, found the sweet spot deep inside of me. The handcuffs in my hand rattled as I fought to stay still, to take this, because I knew what was coming and for me, it would be a wicked ride until he finally let me finish.

The sounds of my own wetness increased, and Logan’s gaze stayed focused on my eyes. He didn’t once look down, but his jaw tightened as he used me roughly for his own satisfaction and right as my breath hitched, the telltale sign he knew I was close, he stopped.

“Shit,” I rasped. I’d known it was going to happen and it still frustrated me.

“You didn’t think I was going to let you come yet, did you?”

“No, sir,” I wheezed. I tried to press my legs together, but he stopped me and grabbed my hips. With one quick tug and flip, I was on my stomach, toes on the carpeted rug, and my hands were being dragged behind my back.

“I love this ass of yours,” he whispered and brought one of his hands to my backside. He palmed it and squeezed even as he clicked the handcuffs around each wrist. “Let me know if it gets too much, and I’ll stop, okay?”

“I trust you.”

He brushed his lips over my shoulders and down my spine. “And that’s reason number two.”

Oh. I got it then.

“And this,” he whispered, and his hand was no longer at my backside but running through my slit, gathering my own wetness before he dragged it back and up. “You letting me play and have you here is reason three.”

His finger pressed against the tightened puckered hole and he worked me slowly. My eyes rolled back into my head and I groaned from the pleasure, from the surprise.

“There you go,” he crooned, now in my ear. “You’re so damn sexy. So fucking hot for me all the time, that might just be reason number four.”

I whined, a low keening sound as he shoved his finger inside of me. And goddamn he was so freaking good at this.

He nipped my ear and chuckled darkly. “These are in no particular order, too, you know.”

“Of course,” I rasped and then groaned as I felt the pressure of a second finger. He peeled his chest off my back and then there was a soft click.

“Might be cold,” he warned me and drizzled a liquid all over my ass, his fingers now lodged inside of me. “You okay?”

---