“I wanna feel those lips, Sloane,” he says gruffly.
“Oh, so it’s okay to have them on your dick but not on your mouth?” I snap tersely. He stiffens a little but chooses not to reply. Complete fucker. I have something in mind to teach him a lesson. I bend my neck down to him, feeling my racing heartbeat in my lips before I take him in my mouth. This is different to the one other time I’ve done this to him. That time I was on my back. He’d towered over me like a giant, his presence still somehow looming in the dark hotel room. His hands had been securely fastened in my hair, guiding my head. Not now, though. Zeth doesn’t even touch me. At the first contact from my lips, his digs his fingers into the bed sheets, not gripping hold of them but pressing down against the mattress with all his strength. He’s huge in my mouth, warm and already tasting musky. I bob my head a little lower, taking more of him inside me.
“Holy shit, Sloane.” His groaned, impossibly deep words have a rather gratifying effect. He likes this. He likes it and technically I’m the one who’s in control right now. Time for a little payback. I duck my head lower, taking more of him into my mouth, until I can’t go any farther. And then I bite down. Not very hard. Just enough to let him know he hasn’t entirely won this round.
The reaction is instant.
He flings me off him so fast I barely catch sight of the ceiling before I’m on my back and then sliding off the bed and onto the floor.
“Oh, no, no, no, Sloane,” he growls, stalking toward me. “Slapping’s one thing. But that—you’re gonna wish you hadn’t done that.” His face is devoid of all emotion, which makes me think he’s way madder than I’ve seen him before. From my concertinaed position on the floor, legs still half on the bed, half over my own head, I should be freaking the fuck out, but I’m not. I’m laughing.
That hysteria lasts all of ten seconds as he gets up and paces to the other side of the room, opening up the walk-in closet beyond. My smile dissolves at the sight of the black bag in his hand. I’m instantly turned on and terrified. Will he let me change my mind right now? I don’t think he will. Fuck!
“Get up onto the bed, Sloane,” he commands. He throws the bag down at the side of the bed and begins to unzip it.
“No.”
He stops, looks up at me, leans forward and says, “Do we really need to go through this again? You reap what you sow, Sloane. It’s time for you to learn how to behave.” He raises his eyebrows in a challenge. I know he means business now. He gave me a small amount of power and I abused it. And now I have to suffer the consequences. And yet, deep down, I think I’ve been waiting for this to happen. And…wanting it to. I ease back up onto the bed as cautiously as possible. Zeth nods once and finishes opening the bag.
“Spread your legs,” he tells me. I’m almost wishing for the dark of our first encounter again as I do what I’m told. Zeth has a look of revenge about him as he climbs up over my body. “I’m not gonna tie you up this time, Sloane. But you should know, you move one hand, try to fight me off, do anything that involves your teeth and my dick, and you’re gonna pay for it. Understand?”
I nod my head, wondering what he has in mind. And then I see the small, narrow, tweezer-like instrument in his hand. “What the hell is that?”
Zeth grips hold of the device with a level of pleasure that has me squirming on my back, suddenly regretting complying so easily. “This is what you get for being bad,” he informs me.
I quiver as he runs his hands down the insides of my legs, stooping down to lick at the sensitive skin just before my pussy. He grazes lips and tongue across my hot skin, licking again and again, but it’s all teasing. Nowhere near where I need him to lick me. I’m beginning to feel frustrated, angling my hips up to him, opening myself to him, when I feel the cool metal against my pussy. My body quakes with sudden nerves, but Zeth grasps hold of my hip in his free hand, sending a penetrating look of warning up my body. “Remember. Fight it and you’ll regret it.”
The metal instrument in his hand turns out to be a clamp. I know this because he affixes it swiftly to the swollen bundle of nerves at my very center, causing me to yelp out in shock. He flicks it with his index finger and a relay of sharp pleasure mixed with pain volts around my body.
“Zeth!” My cry is one of surprise and pleading. “Oh my God, don’t do that again.”