Page 35 of Jerk
“You all know you’re inmyhouse, right?” She glares at a couple of guests who giggle, but that’s not enough.
“Bring me the throne.” Gray and a guy from the team immediately grab the black velvet chair I’ve sat on most of the night. They push it right behind her as I approach her. She gasps when my hands land on her shoulder, then I push her down. “Sit.”
My boys take the leather straps hanging on each side and tie her wrists to the arms of the chair. “All this to get me to stay at your stupid party?”
“No.” Pulling the thick belt off my robe, I can see the stillness in her chest as her eyes drop to my abs. My smirk spreads. “All this to teach you a lesson.”
“What lesson is that? That you’re delusional?” I don’t miss the shake in her voice when I crouch in front of her. My hand wraps around one ankle, pulling it to one side of the throne before securing it with the leather strap. Then the other. “Or completely psychotic?”
“You still think you have control over me.” I drag my finger up her leg, already sticky with sweat, before looping the belt around her hips in a figure-eight. I make one pass across her lower belly, then I pass it underneath her. Right between her thighs. “Face it, Hannah. Control is long gone.”
Hannah
My body buzzesas I try to control my shaky breaths.
My heartbeat is too quick, my palms too sweaty as everyone watches Rye tie me to this chair.
Hate is an understatement. Idespisehow his muscular body looks in damn near nothing, while I look like a tortured prisoner.
Bringing my eyes to his, I find my words, saying them loud enough so that everyone can hear. “You’re going through a hell of a lot to prove you’re in control, aren’t you?” Tugging on the restraints, I test their strength. There’s a chance I can get out of them if I pull enough, but I’m not giving him the satisfaction of a struggle. Not in front of everyone. A queen stays calm. Collected. So I’ll use another weapon. My mouth. “What? Can’t handle me so you have to tie me up?”
“Ladies, gentlemen, heathens of all genders.” He ignores me, speaking to the crowd as he moves behind me. His fingers trail up each arm, and I ignore the goosebumps it brings. “Hannah Alfonso thinks she can walk in here and disobey the rules.”
Before I can open my mouth to respond, my hips jolt forward as he pulls that belt he placed between my legs, right against my centre. Right against that spot he knows drives me crazy.
How the hell is he so precise?
I whip my head back, but with one hand, he keeps me facing the growing crowd.
“You want attention, don’t you?” His voice lands against my ear. Low. Menacing. Intoxicating. These words aren’t for his guests. They’re only for me. I hate how I squeeze my thighs in response, but that only makes his ‘punishment’ feel better. “Bask in it.” He pulls the belt again, a gasp escaping me. “Chin up. A queen sits tall, doesn’t she?”
Another tug on the belt, and I wish I’d worn thicker pants. The fabric of my thin, cotton shorts pools around it, only giving him more exposure. My mouth falls open, a soft moan escaping as he works that belt against my clit in a way that feels like magic. In a way that makes my core tense and my toes curl. Each tug makes my hips move. Each tug fuels the burning fire between my legs. It feels incredible, but everyone can see how much my body betrays me. How much I want this when I’m not supposed to.
His words land against my cheek. “Not so in control now, are we?” I can’t deny it. He loosens and tightens his belt like a sadistic metronome. Every time I get a second to breathe, he pulls it again. “She looks like she’s enjoying her punishment a littletoomuch. Doesn’t she?”
“Y-you j-just—” I hate the way my words stutter out. I’m only proving his point. I’m not in charge. Not right now. I try using my words again. “Y-you just like?—”
“I like seeing you crumble for me.” He brings his lips against my ear again, his fingers landing on either side of my nipple.
What's worse than Rye making me stutter in front of half the school? Half the school seeing how hard he makes my nipples. He gives one a tight squeeze as he pulls the rope again. His touch makes me hiss, but the contrast of the belt against my clit makes me rock my hips harder.
“Careful, Kitten, silk shows when you’re wet.”
And fuck, I really am. I’m fighting the urge to rock my hips harder, every pull feeling like a fan to the flames inside me. Folding my lips in, I hide my moans. But I’m not hiding much. He makes me squirm, my skin wet with sweat while playing this degrading game of Red Light, Green Light. Closing my eyes doesn’t stop the whispers and giggles I hear around the room. And it only makes his voice in my ear louder.
“Go on, tell them you’re still in charge.” Shaking my head only gets him to pull harder, faster. He’s pushing me to the edge while hardly touching me. Then he stops tugging. “Say it.”
It’s only then that I realize how fast my heart beats and how sweaty my palms are, my fists clenched against the throne’s arms. I want more. I can feel my clit pulsing with my heart, the knot in my stomach so tight it’s painful. I look weak. I know it. So I open my eyes, finding my words. “I’m in charge.” But they’re as weak and shaky as I am on this 'throne.'
“Doesn’t sound like she is, does it?” Rye addresses the crowd again. “She gives it up to me so easily, doesn’t she?” He tugs that belt firmer, like he's starting a lawnmower. My hips move with his rhythm, our audience fading around me. “You’re right there, aren’t you, Kitten?” His words land against my ear again, low and growling, while I writhe against a piece of fucking silk. “Say it.”
“I’m in—oh fuck.” He starts pulling the fabric again and—oh god. Oh fucking god.
“Look at our queen, begging for it. Greedy girl,” he chides to the crowd, and I can’t stop moving my hips no matter how hard I try. My cheeks flush, my back arching against the chair, the entire world collapsing on me. Then it all stops. “Unh, unh. You don’t get to come. Not until I say so. Not until everyone knows who owns you.” His words land right in my ear again, his voice thundering through me. “You don’t get to come until I say so.”
Then he fucking walks away.
He leaves me panting through my nose, a pulse between my legs and his belt soaked between my thighs. The world comes back in one big rush, like at the gallery.
