Page 50 of Every Promise Broken

“I’m going to need to hear you say it, kitten.”

I wet my lips with my tongue, trying to bring some moisture back to my mouth. All my senses are overwhelmed, and we haven’t even gotten started, but I suppose that’s always par for the course with Conrad, isn’t it?

“Red,” I rasp.

“Good boy.” Conrad’s voice is like velvet caressing my body.

His fingers tease the skin beneath the waistband of my pants for a moment before he drags them up again. One featherlightfingertip circles my nipple, making me shudder. He’s barely touching me, but it ignites every nerve ending. I can feel the light flick over the sensitive bud all the way down to my toes. I feel it everywhere.

“You always did enjoy having me take control, didn’t you?”

Another shiver ripples down my spine as I nod. “Yes.”

“Your need for control takes over your life,” he goes on. “It consumes you, and you don’t know how to let it go. But right here, with me, has always been the one place you could let go. The one place you could be free.”

I drag my bottom lip between my teeth, but say nothing. He’s right, and we both know it. I don’t know why I have such a strong need to be in control ofeverything. If I have the control, then I know what’s coming, and I can prepare for it. The unknown has always terrified me.Go with the flowhas never been me. My mom threw me a surprise birthday party for my seventh birthday, and I broke down in tears and hid in my closet the entire day, refusing to come out.

Selfish. Dramatic. Ungrateful.Those were all words used to describe me that day—and many others—but years later, thanks to therapy, and tests, and a diagnosis that did wonders at making me not feel so alone, I learned new words to describe the way I was feeling. I wasn’t selfish or ungrateful; I was experiencing a sensory overload. I wasn’t dramatic or over the top, I simply struggle with emotional regulation.

Something about Conrad—something I’ve never been able to pinpoint, but I can feel it nonetheless—has always been safe for me. In his arms, I’m able to let go, to not worry. With him, I’m able to turn my mind off. He takes the control, but I know at the end of the day, it’s still me who calls the shots. I’ve never trusted anybody as inexplicably as I do him, even after all these years. Even after everything we’ve been through.

“Now, tell me, kitten…” Pinching my nipple and making me gasp, Conrad glances up, onyx eyes pulling me in. He reaches above my head to trace along my wrist, where the belt has me secured. “Has anybody else ever had you like this?”

My knees tremble as I hold his intense gaze, heart thundering out for more of his touch and attention. Shaking my head, I say, “No.”

A low rumble sounds from his chest as his lips tip up into a pleased grin.

Leaning in, he replaces the finger on my nipple with his mouth, a choked gasp falling off my lips as I feel the scrape of his teeth. The sensation is part pleasure, part pain, and it’s electric. It’s toe curling and euphoric.

Conrad moves to the other side, showing it the same attention, and I swear, my cock has never been harder. It’s throbbing and leaking, my balls fuller than they’ve ever been. If I wasn’t restrained, I’d pull myself out. Biting the inside of my cheek to keep from doing something ridiculous, like beg Conrad to do it for me, I let my head drop onto my shoulders as he works both buds at once in a delicious rhythm that sends shock waves straight to my core.

“That feel good, kitten?” he asks huskily.

“Yes,” I breathe out, right as he twists one and flicks his tongue over the other.

“Do you want more?”

I nod. “Please.”

Conrad smirks, bringing his body flush with mine as he brushes his thumb across my cheek while his hungry eyes gaze into mine. My body heats, both by his proximity and the way he’s looking at me.

Like I’m everything in his world. Beginning and end.

Slowly, he brings his mouth down on mine, kissing me tenderly. Almost like he’s saying something he can’t with words.His tongue is gentle, yet possessive, as it rolls against mine, and I find myself standing up on my toes, trying to get more of him. I whimper into his mouth, desperately wishing I could touch him, or wrap myself around him, or even crawl inside of him. The need to be drowning in Conrad is overwhelming.

I’ve never felt this insatiable with anybody other than him. He’s my exception, it would seem, and maybe in another setting, that would unnerve me, but right now, all it does it heighten my need for him tenfold.

Lips a hairsbreadth from mine, his breath my only oxygen, he runs his palm down my stomach, dipping under the cotton material until he’s cupping me. My entire body alights in one swift move, and my lips part even more as a moan falls onto his mouth. His touch is ethereal. Rough, weathered skin against my stiff length. He grips me firmly before stroking me with purpose.

A breathless, “yes,” falls from my lips as my hips thrust into his hold without even meaning to.

Conrad removes his hand from my pants to tug them down until they’re pooling at my ankles. Taking a step back, I watch his eyes trail down my body, drinking in the sight. The fact that I’m completely naked and in a very vulnerable position should make me nervous. It should make me want to cover myself, hide. But I don’t feel any of those things.

I feel alive.

Intoxicated.

And most of all, I feel wholly desired.

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