I pace down the corridor and stop outside a closed door. The sound hits me again, and I take the handle. I’m relieved when it turns and the door opens. And then enraged at what I see.
Kirk, one of the club’s regulars, looks up, his whip paused midway down Raya’s bare back. She’s naked, pressed front forward against the cage in the far corner, her eyes covered with leather.
Someone else on her skin.
The pain inside me is excruciating. Unbearable. Ripping my stare from the painful sight, I jerk my head at Kirk for him to follow me. His face isn’t pissed, more questioning, but before he paces over to me, he cracks the whip across Raya’s arse. She lurches on a cry and I wince, feeling the lash straight across my fucking heart.
I usher him outside the room, fumbling for how to explain. “I need you to leave her alone.” I just come right out and say it. Honesty around here goes a long way. Some men get possessive, and most other men at Hux respect that. I’m hoping Kirk respects that.
His eyes narrow a little. “She’s yours?”
“Yes,” I lie. It’s the only way I’ll get what I want, and I really want him to leave her alone.
“I think you need to make that clear to Raya.” He wanders away.
God, the relief. “Thanks, Kirk.” And then I feel mad. Mad that she’s here, mad that she’s so easily given herself to someone else. And mad at myself, because I pushed her into this.
I let myself back in the room, shutting the door silently. She’s still holding position, but her breathing is strained. She wants to forget? She’s got it. I pull my T-shirt up over my head and toss it on the bed as I pass, taking a coil of thick chains off the cabinet. The clang of links as it unravels, and then the thud as the end hits the carpet, kills the sounds of her breathing. She’s holding her breath.
Dragging the chains behind me, I prowl toward her, my hungry gaze running tracks up and down her back, my palms sweating. Mad as I might be, I still appreciate her gorgeousness. I’m hyperaware, super sensitive. Pressing my chest into her back, I exhale, and her body melts into mine, fire and ice within me at war. Be cold, Drew. She asked for cold. Things only got distorted when you warmed up.
I ensure her blindfold is secure before I slowly turn her to face me. Her lips are perfectly parted, revealing the pink tip of her tongue. I lay the chains over my shoulder to free both hands and take them to her neck, circling her delicate flesh with my palms. I feel her swallow against my thumbs, her head tipped up slightly. I hook my thumb into her mouth. I won’t speak any instructions; I don’t want to give myself away, so I press it against her tongue until she sucks, every muscle I possess hardening. I’m so tempted to rip her blindfold off and reveal myself. But I won’t. I refuse. I’m just a man here to distract her. A man here to fuck away whatever’s messing with her happiness. Seems I can still help her with that after all.
I move in on her mouth as I pull my thumb free and gently kiss her cheek before biting down, eliciting a ragged breath. Hard nipples brush across my chest, and her hands fly upward. I catch them before they find me, forcing them back down to her sides.
“Please,” she begs.
My cock, aching within my jeans, is leaking. “Shhhh,” I hush her, pulling the chain from my shoulder.
She gasps at the touch of the chilly metal on her skin. Smiling, I criss-cross the length over her chest, the thick, cold metal links a striking contrast against her pink, warm skin. The shackles pass between her small breasts, and I feed them down, wrapping them around her waist, through her thighs and back up to her neck. I circle once and let the two lengths fall down her front to her wrists. A pair of cuffs secures the ends, and another pair behind her, linking the chain from her back to the cage.
I move back, in utter awe of the vision before me—my girl wrapped up in chains.
Panting.
Desperate.
Mine.
“Fuck…” I breathe to myself, a tremor shaking my very center. Those chains could be wrapped around my heart. Squeezing. My muscles giving up on me, I drop to my knees at her feet and stare up at her. Her narrow ankles, her sculptured legs, her soft tummy and perfect breasts. And her face, her eyes hidden. It’s a great loss, but one I must sustain.
I reach up and place a palm on her hip, watching her bite down on her lip when our skin meets. I drag it softly from side to side, back and forth, over and over. Her instinct is to try to fold herself, to withdraw from my touch. The chains clink, metal against metal on the cage, followed by a desperate cry of frustration. She’s felt nothing yet.
I slip my hand between her thighs and skim her sodden opening. More clinking, more cries, and my head falls back on my shoulders, the sounds only encouraging me. One finger inside, dragged in by her keen muscles, and another cry. Two fingers, softly moulding her, withdrawing and advancing firmly. Louder cries.
I hold my fingers inside her, working her, building her, as I rise to my feet and remove my jeans and boxers. My mouth gravitates toward her breasts, dividing my attention between them evenly, one kiss, one suck, one lick, each in turn, all while working her cunt into a pulsing, wet mess of arousal. Her cries are on loop, her body jolting, the clanking chains reminding her that she’s trapped. That she’s at my mercy.
I lower again, biting and pulling at her flesh between the chains on my way down, and then licking my way back up her body, starting at her pussy. She screams. I growl.
And I can no longer endure my own torture.
Grasping my cock, my knuckles brush the metal links between her thighs as I level myself up, and I grunt as I take that first, out-of-this-world thrust. I go limp against her, searching for strength to see me through this. It comes in the delivery of one word.
“Drew,” she murmurs, short of breath.
I reach up and yank off her blindfold, suddenly desperate to see those eyes. The shards of light that spill the second she blinks them open blinds me. She breathes in my face, her insides hugging my cock, pulling me deeper. So much deeper. Deeper into her body, and deeper into her world.
Our gazes are locked as I roll my hips, reaching for the backs of her thighs and pulling them up to my waist. Her bound hands hook over my neck. There’s so much energy radiating from her eyes, I’m convinced she must be plugged into the sun. Intensity, heat, vivid color—it’s all shining on me, lighting up the room. Lighting up me.