Page 11 of Claim

I had no clue how I’d react to any of this. Better to see this through in private versus the middle of a room full of people.

Then he added, “Plus if I make you come, I doubt you want it on a feed your brother can review later.”

My eyes widened. “You knew who I was the whole time?”

He ran a thumb over my lower lip. “Not initially. I put it together after you gave me your name, and I connected the family resemblance.”

“And you have no worries about how Lucian will react to this?”

“He isn’t part of our equation.” The heat in his green irises sent a course of arousal throughout my body, and a flood of heat pooled between my legs.

“Then I guess there is nothing else to discuss.”

“Oh, we have things to discuss, but not out here.”

We made our way through a dimly lit hallway lined with images of men and women in various poses of pleasure taken by photographers I’d met at a party or two.

I focused in on one with a woman bound with her hands above her head and jeweled clamps on her nipples. A riding crop lay between her breast, and the flush on her face and skin conveyed the impression of post-orgasmic bliss. Her beauty radiated out from the photo, as did her pleasure. It drew me in and made me crave to be her.

Damon’s hand settled on my lower back, sliding upward along my spine in a gentle caress. “She’s beautiful.”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Do you want me to bind you? Or is it the crop that calls to you?”

Something about him made it easy to tell him the truth. “It’s the whole essence of the scene. It makes me wonder what it would feel like to be her.”

“I can give you that. Albeit without the clamps.”

“Why omit the clamps?” Curiosity had me asking the question.

I’d read enough about them to know the bit of them caused a stinging pain before euphoria set in. It required a slow integration to enjoy the pleasure of it.

“It isn’t a beginner device. I’d have to train you into it.”

I turned to face him, ready to ask him what he meant by train, but my words never materialized as he collared my throat.

The comforting pressure shouldn’t feel so good, so delicious, so needed.

“Let’s go in the room.” He reached around me and opened the door.

His hold on my neck remained firm, unyielding but not painful, and he walked me inside.

“Now, we discuss your limits.”

“I don’t know what they are.”

“Are you truly so innocent, Only Sophia? Have you never played games with any of your lovers?”

I wanted to look away, hide from his probing eyes, and keep my secrets buried.

“No, I’m not innocent.”

I’d seen more than enough of how the world worked.

The good, the bad, and the dirty.

“Then tell me, what won’t you do?”

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