Page 68 of Thief

“Yes, it was. I heard something. John I want to know.” Confusion filtered through her veins. “What made that sound?”

“Will you stop twittering? You’re spoiling the game.” He pushed his mouth to hers, thrust his tongue between her teeth and played with the base of her tongue, silencing all further questions. She arched towards him, greedy for his taste. Greedy for him.

Click. Whirr.

“Whaa…” she mumbled through his deep, penetrating kiss.

“Shh,” he breathed into her mouth. “Go with it, trust me.”

He kissed her again, gentle and sweet, then nuzzled his way down to her breasts. Where the sharpness of the brush had scratched her skin, the warmth of his tongue soothed.

Kat curved into him, pushing concerns from her mind. He’d only ever done good stuff. She did trust him; she knew she did. For a fleeting second, though, she wondered if she’d done the right thing by taking the diamonds. But it was her only option. She had to look after herself. She was just glad he didn’t know, because she wasn’t sure what he’d do. She’d glimpsed his fury and his power, and she had no intention of getting on the receiving end of that; especially when bound and blindfolded and completely surrendered to his will.

“You like this?” he asked, rotating the bristles over her other nipple so they caught and scraped deliciously.

“Mmm,” she managed, feeling her hands tingle from lack of blood. She eased their position slightly, reduced the strain and concentrated once again on her nipple being sweetly tormented. “It feels sharp.”

“Sharp, you like sharp?” His voice was a velvety caress, a complete contrast to the exquisite discomfort she was experiencing.

“I like that feeling between pain and pleasure. I guess I shouldn’t.”

“Why shouldn’t you?”

“It’s not right, is it?” She moved her head to where she guessed his face was hovering over her chest.

“There’s nothing you can do about it—you like what you like.” He pressed the spikes harder onto her peaked areola. Using his hand to scoop the base of her breast upwards towards the firm attention of the brush he drew a giant swirl. “If anyone other than you on this earth had shoved their finger up my backside, I’d have broken their fucking neck.” He pressed the brush even harder and pulled it upwards towards her neck, scooping and dragging little waves of skin with it.

Kat caught her breath. The pricking sensation travelled so deep, so harsh, she knew her soft flesh would bear the tiny marks when she eventually looked. “S-so why didn’t you break my neck?” she stammered. She was sure he could easily break a person’s neck.

“Because for some crazy fucking reason, it got me off when you had me there.” The words came from between gritted teeth, like he didn’t enjoy uttering them, didn’t like admitting to his newly discovered, dark desire.

A sudden, fast flick of his fingers seared across the exposed tip of her nipple. A red-hot flame of pain, new and different, mean and tight. “Ow,” she cried out.

“What, you don’t like it now?”

Kat felt the pain bloom down to her clit. It trilled like a musical note and sent her hidden nub quivering with sexual excitement. “I…No, yes, I…”

She heard John’s amused huff. “Make your mind up, baby. I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“No, it’s okay,”

“Good, now open your legs.”

Kat swallowed but it was more of a gulp. She had no idea what his next plan was. She was aware of him moving over her and sitting towards the base of the bed. She tipped her head back onto the pillows as she felt his big, determined hands pushing at her sensitive inner thighs, sending them higher and wider, brazenly exposing her intimate flesh. She was trapped, tied down. She could go nowhere.

The brush was back at work, rotating thorns grating over her abdomen, pulling and scratching. It reached her mound, and she bit down on her lip. The pressure was too heavy, it would hurt too much down there, all those mean little sticks on fragile tissue. “John,” she squeaked nervously, twisting at the scarf holding her to the headboard.

“It’s okay, baby. I know what you can take.”

She pulled in a breath and tried to still the tremble in her thighs. The brush scratched over the bare, plump lips of her pussy. But just as the jagged bristles were about to scrape over delicate skin, the pressure eased off, and it was just a soft, tugging sensation stroking at her outer lips.

She let out the breath but sucked it straight back in again as she felt his fingers on her. Gentle and sensual, he stroked and petted between her legs. He spread out her wetness and exposed the inner lips, teased her clit from its hiding place and danced down to the smooth sheath of skin between her entrance and her anus.

She felt like she was a wet mass of folds and flesh. Open to the elements and vulnerable, she could feel cool air in every nook and crevice. She was totally at his mercy. She loved it and wanted more. She wanted his fingers inside her, filling her. She wanted his mouth sucking her clit, swirling his tongue around her needy nerve endings. “John, please…I.”

“My game, remember,” he said, his voice oaked and husky. His touch left her.

She shifted her thighs back together and tried to get pressure on her clit by clamping her legs.

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