Page 138 of Shadowed Hearts: Frost
Her breath quickens, but she remains motionless as instructed. Her pulse jumps visibly in her throat.
With carefully controlled pressure, I draw the blade upward. Its sharp edge slices through the fabric with minimal resistance. The sound of cutting cloth fills the quiet room. Her skin pebbles as the cool metal slides along her thigh.
"Concentrate on the cold." I move to the opposite side to cut the remaining fabric. "What does it feel like?"
"Like ice." Her eyes never leave the knife. "Sharp but not cutting. Controlled."
I nod approvingly as I finish removing the ruined shorts. Leave her lower half exposed between the ankle restraints.
I place the knife on the nightstand. Within view but out of reach. Security through surrender.
My hands move to her inner thighs. Stroke upward with firm, steady pressure. Her skin warms beneath my touch. Contrasts with the cold metal from moments ago. Her muscles tense. Response confirmed.
"Keep your eyes on me." I push her tank top up. Expose her breasts without removing the garment. "Don't look anywhere else. Just me."
She obeys. Her gaze never wavering. The position leaves her exactly where I need her—secure but not strained, partially clothed yet exposed where it matters.
"Tell me what you're thinking now." My hand rests on her hip.
"You." Her voice steadier than it's been for hours. "Only you."
Each answer confirms my approach is working. I slide my hand between her legs. Find her already wet. My fingers circle her clit with measured pressure. Her back arches as much as the restraints allow.
"Stay with me." I remind her as her eyelids flutter.
"I'm here." She gasps. Her eyes locked on mine. "I'm right here."
I maintain the rhythm that draws the strongest responses from her. Watch as her expression tightens with rising pleasure. When her breathing speeds up toward climax, I withdraw my hand.
"Not yet. I need more of you first."
She whimpers when I pull away, but doesn't protest. The restraints hold her in position. Prevent her from closing her legs or hiding from my gaze.
I position myself between her thighs and let my breath warm her skin. Her hips try to lift toward me, but the restraints hold her exactly where I want her. I trace my tongue along her inner thigh, tasting salt and arousal.
When I finally put my mouth on her, she cries out. The sound echoes off the walls as I work my tongue in slow, deliberate circles. Her pussy is slick and hot against my mouth. I slide two fingers inside her while my lips close around her clit.
Her breathing becomes ragged as I build the rhythm. My fingers curve to find the spot that makes her back arch. The restraints tighten as she pulls against them. I can taste how close she is—her body tightening around my fingers.
Just as her thighs begin to tremble with approaching climax, I pull away completely. She makes a sound between a sob and a protest, her body straining toward me. But I sit back, watching her chest rise and fall while she struggles to catch her breath. The flush spreads from her cheeks down to her chest.
I remove my own clothes. Never breaking eye contact. Her gaze drops to my cock as it springs free. I allow this momentary disobedience.
"You want this?" I take myself in hand.
"Yes. Please, Asher."
I position myself between her spread legs. She looks up at me. Her expression suddenly urgent.
"Don't go slow. Don't be gentle." Her voice stronger now. "I need to feel everything. I need you to fuck me until I can't think about anything else."
Her directness cuts through me like a blade. The analytical part of my mind notes:linguistic inhibitions reduced by emotional distress, demonstrating trust threshold achieved.
The rest of me simply responds.
I lean down. Capture her mouth in a deep kiss as I slide against her wetness without entering. She moans into my mouth. Her body strains against the restraints.
"Please." She gasps against my lips. "I need to feel you."
