Page 67 of Wrapped in Silver

He’s already rock hard. I love that about his suit pants—you can’t hide anything in there, let alone his huge rod.

He growls lowly, trying to hide how bad he wants it, then pulls my hair, causing my head to whip back. I moan through the tape as his nose comes an inch from my neck. He takes in my scent, his eyes closing like some wolf playing with prey.

The idea makes my slit scream for him.

“Are you frightened?” he purrs, licking my neck.

I nod feverishly as he holds my wrists with one hand. I grab for his cock to tell him this is all just an act, but he stops me before I can get there.

He digs his hand beneath the leggings—ass-first—scratching my skin as he claws for what he’s looking for. His pinky hovers over my second hole, giving me tremors I’m not sure I’ve ever felt before. It’s naughty and wrong, like our entire arrangement, and I’m interested. He can tape me up like a freakin’ mummy for all I care.

When his index finger dips into my slit, I want to cry from the amount of pleasure.

“I thought you didn’t want it?” He rips his hand out of my pants and licks his finger.

He waits a moment for me to respond, staring into my pleading eyes.

“Then what’s all this?Are you lying to yourself?”

I moan, knees going weak. Feeling helpless in his grasp is my new fantasy. Who would’ve thought this is what I needed in my life?

He spins me so we’re facing one another, holding my wrists high overhead. “You weren’t trying to escape on me, were you?”

I shake my head, pretending to be scared.

“Good girl. Otherwise, I’d have to spank you.”

This is getting all sorts of sick, and I’m here for it.

“What’s that? Youweretrying to run?” He tilts his head and grabs me by the hair, and when he does, my hand is free, so I lunge to grab his cock.

“Bad,bad girl.” He grabs me and brings me over to a kitchen chair—big windows wide open, facing into a snowy forest of trees. If we get interrupted this time, I give up.

My vision swims as he flips me over his lap and rips down my leggings. Heat claws up my throat like sharp nails. My ass is exposed to the air, and there’s nothing I want to do but grab onto the chair legs and brace.

Do I like pain?

Slap!

My ass jiggles, I moan, and he grunts.

I do like pain. Just a little.

Slap!

He looks at me to make sure I’m okay, to make sure I’m in this fantasy with him.I am.A wink his way tells him I’m all about it, so he resumes.

Two more slaps and my ass is bright red, and when he stuffs two fingers inside my slit, I’m in a heaven of pleasure. The tingling all over my skin from the slap, plus the undeniable pulsing of an incoming orgasm is something I didn’t know should be combined. He’s a blender of sexual energy. A master. And I’m his little plaything.

He throws off my one boot, my socks, and whips my leggings down the rest of the way to two bare legs riddled with marks. I don’t care about any of it. I want more.

I pull myself up to straddle him until he lifts me onto the kitchen table. He rips the tape off my mouth and presses his lips on mine. The taste of plastic is his doing, but he doesn’t seem to care. His tongue is down my throat. I hear the belt buckleclackingas he races to unleash what I’ve been waiting for.

I grab it and start jerking it, wondering why it feels extra-long in my grip. The girth alone is something to salivate over, and the length is just the cherry on top, framed by perfect V lines that shouldn’t be legal at his age.

He growls and looks over to his duffle bag—probably for a condom—so I grab his tie and don’t let go.

“You say you’re obsessed with me,”I whisper seductively. “Prove it.”

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