Grooves form in her forehead then smooth away. “Fine. Two strikes.” The corner of her mouth lifts. “Do your worst.”
She’s smiling now, completely clueless about where I’ll be doing my worst.
I cock my head. “As for the attitude you gave me on the phone…” I yank the belt free from my jeans and fold it in half. “Six orgasms for your six bratty comments.”
“Orgasms, huh?” She laughs, relaxing in her restraints. “Gee, that sounds like torture.”
My lips twitch. Oh, it will be.
The edge of the piano lid digs into my ass, and the muscles in my inner thighs strain in the locked and spread position. But it’s the heated blue gaze tracing every line of my body that holds me captive. I straighten as tall as possible, my heart banging and body aching for Emeric’s hurt and affection.
Since I’m sitting on his usual target, where will he hit me? My thighs? My back? I look down the expanse of my torso, and a chill tingles across my neck. With my legs extended wide and arms bound behind me, my tits and * are front and center. Surely, that’s not…
My gaze flies up, but he’s not looking at my eyes. His attention is glued to my chest, his fist clenched around the ends of the belt. No, he wouldn’t. Not somewhere so vulnerable. My nipples throb at the thought.
Stalking toward me on silent feet, he slides the bench to the side and puts his face in mine, studying my expression, watching me breathe, peering into the darkest, most depraved parts of me.
I swallow. “Where are you going to—”
He crashes his mouth against mine, licking and sucking and spinning my brain off its axis. Gliding his lips along my neck, up and down, slowly, achingly, he covers my throat in whispers of pleasure. My head drops back on a gasp. His mouth is so gentle and safe it’s like he’s kissing my soul. Please, don’t stop.
His hand joins in, lightly stroking up my side and over my breast. Those four fingers, four tiny points of contact, charge my veins with electricity and strum my body through multiple arpeggios in a matter of seconds.
“I need you.” The words rush past my lips, breathy and unbidden.
“You have me,” he says softly, lowers his head, and bites my nipple.
I yelp, consumed with pain, jerking against the manacles and going nowhere.
He laughs and bites again, pulling on the nub with his teeth until it throbs and stretches out of shape.
When he moves to the other one, I hold my breath and shake my head.
His lips graze my nipple, teasing, and his eyes flicker to mine with so much need swirling in the deep blue depths. “Breathe.”
The moment I do, he sinks his teeth. I shriek in agony and buck my hips, slipping off the edge. He catches me, sliding my ass back in place as his teeth tear into my sensitive flesh, sucking hard and setting me on fire.
“Stop!” I sob, twisting my wrists in the shackles. “Please, stop.”
Rolling his tongue, he licks the godawful burn, his voice a razored rasp. “I don’t hear your word.”
Tears flood my eyes, and my entire body quivers like a harp string.
He leans into my face and bares his teeth. “Say it.”
I suck on my bottom lip and look down. Fucking hell, it feels like he sliced my nipples off, but they’re still there, huge, hard, and angry red. Not a drop of blood.
He steps to the side and taps the folded belt against his leg. “Where’s the cocky little brat from just a moment ago?”
“You bit my boobs!”
“You just increased your orgasm count to seven. Are you finished?”
If he’s trying to provoke me to say the word, he’ll have to try harder.
I twist my wrist behind my back and flip him off. Too bad he can’t see it. “I’m good.”
He raises the belt and touches the loop of leather to my nipple. A torrent of tremors ripple through me.
His eyes meet mine, lower to my chest, then return to my face.
I harden my expression and lift my chin.
Time stands still as his head tilts, and his mouth opens slightly. Then he swings.
Leather whips across my swollen nipple in a fiery flash. A gasp lodges in my throat, and tears blind my vision. He doesn’t give me a second to regroup before he strikes the other breast.
My back bows, and I swallow my scream as my mind scrambles to make sense of the pain. How did I get here? Why am I letting this happen? What in the holy fuck am I doing?
The belt hits the floor, making me jump. He reaches behind his neck and drags the t-shirt over his head. Denim hangs low on his tapered waist, his bare chest flexing and bunching with dips and ridges.
In the next breath, he’s on me, hands in my hair and lips chasing the tracks of tears across my cheeks.
“So beautiful when you cry for me.” He sprinkles kisses across my eyes, nose, and mouth as his fingers stroke my hair. “Oh, Ivory. You have no idea what you do to me.”
The rumble of his voice and the tenderness of his touch soothes the fire in my nipples and stokes a new flame deep in my core.
“Tell me,” I say, my voice reedy.