Page 42 of SINS & Riley
His hand slides over my belly, up my breasts, cupping, squeezing, pinching my nipple until a cry out in pleasure.
My what-the-fuck meter spikes into oblivion.
Instincts win.
Both my hands clamp onto his hips.
And holy hell, did I just grind on him?
A second later, his palm snakes around my throat. “I’m going to remove the blindfold now. You will not turn around. Do you understand?”
No. Not really.
When his monster cock is pressed hard into my spine, I couldn’t understand the alphabet.
His grip tightens, a soft squeeze. “Do. You. Understand?”
My voice is a rasp. “Yes.”
Then he shoves me onto the bed, face down, ass up.
The sheets smell faintly of roses, and I wonder if every sheet in this house has been tumble-dried with them.
My wrists are wrenched back, bound in the same silk that held me earlier. Smooth fabric bites tight. Deliciously tighter than before.
And God help me, the feeling is euphoric.
Then, the blindfold is off.
And sure enough, we’re not in his room. We’re in my room.
I don’t know why it took ten years to get here, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is I can see.
Like the brat I am, I twist.
If I’m going to steal a look at him, it has to be now.
My body writhes. Just one glimpse of his face.
Ugh.
He’s dead center behind me, and he’s not having it. His strong hand pins my neck.
“Disobedience so soon?” His voice is a dark purr. “Naughty girl.”
The smack lands sharp on my bare ass, and the sensation is a power grid, blown up, every circuit sparking.
“I need to see you,” I gasp, reckless, needy.
Another slap, harder this time. Heat blooms under my skin as he caresses the spot.
“You don't need to see me. You only need to feel me. And imagine that ghost of yours.”
The slow glide of his finger makes its way along my back, tracing the line of my ass, lower, lower.
He pauses between my cheeks. I freeze as his finger grazes the tight rose of my ass. “You’re not ready for my cock yet. But soon enough, you will be.”
That sets me off. “Fuck you.”
