A Leap in the Dark (The Assassins of Youth MC Book 2)

I clutched his skull like I was set to give him a Vulcan mind-meld. My feet were off the floor, my boots kicking around aimlessly like a kid riding a toy horse. But what really blew the top of my skull off was when he pinched something tightly around my nipple. At first the pain shot through to the back of my eyeballs.

But after a few seconds of shallow, fast panting, I worked through the pain. I began to feel a direct channel from the pinched nipple to my uterus. The pinching was directly stimulating my sex organs from the inside out. When Levon poked another stiff nipple through another hard metal clamp, I looked down, expecting to see blood. Instead I saw he’d threaded my nips through the center holes of a couple of those Ninja throwing stars!

So that was what he’d been playing with! Did he normally keep that pouch on his belt, ready to use as primitive and barbaric nipple clamps? With a man as worldly and experienced as Levon, anything was possible.

I found this out in the worst way when Levon snaked his torso up mine. He squirmed so his chest rasped the metal stars, making me utter a series of high-pitched whines like a mewling puppy. The effect this had on my inner cunt was astronomic. My vaginal walls clutched at a nonexistent penis, like one of those meat-eating flowers that are so abominable in nature. He had his groin plastered to my pubic mound. He ever so adeptly swiveled his hips so his erection precisely massaged my pussy lips, kneading the bud of my clitoris inside, a pea in a pod.

I grabbed his shirtfront like a crazed woman. How could he be so cool and collected when I was about to lose my shit? “Do me, Levon! Do me right here on the desk!”

Oh, he was such a cool cucumber! “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Another shrug of his shoulders and the silver stars raked painful ecstasy into my womb. “You’d like me just to rip off your skirt and pound you right here? Well, I’m not going to give you what you want. I’m calling the shots, remember?”

“Yes, sir,” I breathed. I had to trust him. I had to trust this man I barely knew, a gigolo turned outlaw biker. Neither one of those occupations should’ve given me much faith in him, but at my core I felt calm. In control.

My world went black in the next second. I saw him shake out a bandanna from another pocket like a magician, and the next thing I knew, I was blindfolded.

“Ah,” I breathed, looking around, as though I might be able to see something. I felt his face with my fingertips. His upper lip had that sensuous indentation as though an angel had placed her finger there.

“My lamb,” he said softly. “You look so gorgeous all done up like this. Trussed like my little slave. Your safe word will be ‘takedown.’”

Of course I had to rebel. “Oh, yeah?” I ran my thumb across his shapely cheekbone. “Then why can I still do this? And this?” I slid my hand down and pinched his nipple, the pierced one. I smiled when I heard him gasp.

“Stop topping from the bottom,” he growled.

Now he really meant business. I suppose I shouldn’t have challenged him. But he found something that felt like plastic zip ties and soon my wrists were bound in front of me. I didn’t mind. It brought my tiny tits more prominently into view, I knew. I could use all the help I could get.

But then he abandoned me. For a few hopeless seconds, I didn’t know where he’d gone. Panic already set in, my breathing quickening, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out on my forehead, my chest. “Levon!” I called, the fear evident in my voice.

“Down here, lambikins,” he called softly from somewhere near my crotch. Whipping off my skirt and panties, he left my boots on. I felt embarrassed, scared, and aroused beyond my wildest dreams—all at once. But I stayed perched on the desk like a bobble head with no hands to prop me up, my legs splayed for all to see.

In fact, although paper covered the front windows, no one had locked the door. Anyone could walk in at any moment, and I think that added to my indecent excitement. Would I know, though, being blindfolded? It was an erotic possibility.

When Levon bit the inside of my thigh, I twitched. Another bite, the rasp of his five o’clock shadow, and I practically lurched. My legs flipped up of their own accord, and I found them wrapped around his neck. The next exhalation of warm breath against my labia, and my torso slammed flat against the desk. A few hard metal items—more Chinese throwing stars?—dug into my back, but I didn’t care, because Levon was just barely licking the tip of my clitoris, and my hips were grinding like a stripper’s.

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