Page 19 of His Secret Toy
He thrusts one last time as I roll in my own orgasm, feeling him twitch as his cum gushes into me.
When he pulls out, I sink to my knees.
I reach up and touch my neck, then my shoulder. I feel the bruises blooming under my fingertips. They sting.
They’re perfect.
He crouches beside me and turns my face up with two fingers.
“More?”
I nod, breathless.
“Good,” he says. “Because I’m not finished.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
POV: Roman
The gala’s already crowded when we arrive. Gold lighting, champagne towers, diamond wrists and shark smiles fill the room.
Yet, all I’m watching is the flush that starts at her throat.
Harper walks half a step behind me, posture perfect, lips pink and slightly parted. I told her not to bite them tonight. She is to hold still and look pretty.
She’s trying.
I stop to greet someone I don’t care about. I give them a handshake and a lie; the usual exchange. My right hand stays in my pocket.
The remote is small and discreet.
I press the button once.
Harper gasps—just enough that I see her breath catch.
The plug inside her hums low and steady. She straightens. Her feet don’t move and I’m impressed. I lean in behind her like I’m adjusting her necklace.
“Smile, little one,” I murmur in her ear. “You’re soaked in front of all these people.”
She stiffens but manages to nod. I click the vibration up one level.
She’s shaking slightly now, but only I could notice. She holds her champagne flute with both hands to hide it.
Across the ballroom, someone else tries to flirt with her. I watch her cheeks go red. She doesn’t look at him and doesn’t answer.
I reward her with another pulse and watch as her knees almost buckle.
By the end of the third course, she’s not eating. Her fingers tremble every time she lifts the glass to her lips. Her thighs keep inching together, trying to hide what I’ve done to her.
She’s never looked more beautiful.
The room applauds something I didn’t hear. I press the remote one last time, this time a short pulse at the highest setting.
She chokes on a sound and drops her napkin.
I whisper without smiling. “You drop anything else, and I’ll smack you for hours when we get home.”
I watch as she begins to tremble and lean down, murmuring just loud enough for her to hear, “Relax. No one knows what’s buried between your sweet little ass cheeks.”
