Page 24 of Her Cruel Empire
“Look at the mess you’re making,” she says. “All over my expensive rug.”
Heat floods my cheeks, but not from embarrassment. From want so sharp it feels like dying.
Her fingers slide over me again, delving deeper this time, and I groan.
“To make up for this...” She holds up her fingers, showing me the evidence of my arousal like it’s a crime I’ve committed. “You’re going to have to come from just one touch. Do you think you can do that for me?”
The challenge in her voice makes my stomach clench with need. Can I? I’m not sure. I’ve never been this worked up before, never felt like every nerve ending in my body was on fire, never understood that I could want someone this desperately.
“I don’t know,” I admit, my voice small and scared. Not of her, but of what I’m becoming under her hands.
“Then we’ll find out together.” She leans closer, her breath warm against my ear. “One touch. And if you don’t come from that, you won’t come at all. But first, you’re going to beg me properly.”
“Please,” I whisper immediately. “Please touch me. I need you to touch me so badly I can’t think straight. I can’t breathe. I can’t?—”
“Better.” Her lips curve in that cat-like smile that’s becoming as essential to me as oxygen. “But I want to hear you say exactly what you want me to do.”
My face burns, but the words spill out anyway, desperate and shameless. “Touch me. Please. Make me come. I’ll do anything you want, anything at all, just please?—”
“Anything?” The word hangs in the air between us, loaded with promise and threat and possibilities that both terrify and thrill me.
“Anything.” And I mean it. I’ve become someone I don’t recognize, and the scary part is how much I love this new me.
How much I love what she’s doing to me.
She gets back into her chair and repositions her foot between my thighs, pulled back so that she isn’t touching me yet, her toes poised over where I need them the most. But she doesn’t move. Not yet. She’s savoring this moment.
“You understand that your body belongs to me now,” she says conversationally, as if we’re discussing the weather instead of my complete surrender. “Your body, your pleasure, every reaction—it’s all mine to control.”
“Yes,” I breathe, and feel something fundamental shift inside me. Some last piece of my old self cracking apart.
“Good. And when I make you come with this single touch, it will be a physical example of exactly who owns you. Who you belong to now.”
I nod frantically, beyond words, beyond everything except need.
“Because you do belong to me, Robin. Even after these thirty days end, a part of you will still be mine. You’ll still feel my hands on you, still crave this feeling. Because while you’re here with me, I will change you. Make you into something new. Something that exists solely for my pleasure.”
Yes. I already know it. She’s turning me into her creature and I’m helping her do it. This arrangement will change me forever.
Change me in ways I can’t even comprehend yet.
I can be someone completely different from that desperate, broke woman who can barely keep it together for her family…
And I welcome the idea.
But before I can process that revelation fully, her toe presses down onto my clit—firm, deliberate, perfect. “Come for me.”
It’s a command.
The orgasm hits me as hard as the lightning in the storm outside. My back arches off the rug as waves of pleasure crash over me, more intense than anything I’ve ever felt. It’s like every nerve ending in my body ignites at once, sending liquid fire through my bloodstream. I cry out—loud enough for the entire castle to hear, loud enough maybe for the village below—but I don’t care.
I don’t care even one tiny bit.
It seems to go on forever, tumbling through me in spirals that leave me gasping and shaking and completely destroyed. When it finally begins to ebb, I feel like I’ve been taken apart and rebuilt as something entirely different.
Something that belongs to her.
Eva withdraws her foot, looking supremely satisfied as she watches me try to remember how to breathe. There’s something shrewd in her expression, like she’s observing every tremor that runs through me, every whimper that escapes my throat.
