Stealing His Thunder (Masters of Adrenaline 1)

She squirmed in her bonds then held her breath as he brushed the tip of the feather over her pussy lips, careful not to let her get too much stimulation. It was at the point where she was too horny for anything to tickle. He traced the outside of them too, then the seam of her sex, and she moaned in frustration.

“Such a pretty little cunt you have, Addison.”

Fresh desire lanced through her. She was shocked at how a word that usually offended her was so hot out of his dirty fucking mouth.

“Your body is trying to protect you from the big, bad feather, but there’s an easy way to fix that.” He spread her labia further apart with his fingers. It was difficult not to die of arousal and embarrassment as he stared at her so intimately. Far too slowly, he brought the tip of the feather to her, brushing the very tip over the sensitive flesh above her clit hood, then tickling downward. She screamed, trying to backpedal at the overwhelming sensation of the breath-light touches, but the ropes held her ex

actly where he wanted her.

“It’s only going to get worse,” he warned, shaking his head sadly. “Maybe you should just tell me now, before I make you regret it.”

She frowned.

“Well, that wasn’t a very polite response to my offer.” He shrugged. “That’s what I get for trying to be nice. I’ll remember that.”

He was just fucking with her, right? For a moment her mind raced, trying to figure out how much worse he could possibly make it, but then the feather came down again, stroking gently over her aching clit, downward, to tickle her perineum, then her anus. She cried out again, desperate to get away, but that only seemed to make him pay that part of her more attention.

“No, no, no!” she squeaked, her voice high.

He stopped. “‘No’ isn’t the safeword you chose, Addison. Is your ass off limits?”

Oh god. Well . . . She swallowed hard. It wasn’t necessarily off limits, but it did embarrass the hell out of her. The full body blush that claimed her must have given him a clue.

“I . . . uh . . . haven’t . . .”

Damn him and his wicked smile. “That’s not what I asked you.”

Did she want him to explore her that way? She had a love/hate relationship with the idea of anal—it was hot in porn, but no matter how much fun those girls seemed to be having, it looked . . . uncomfortable.

“You have a safeword,” he reminded her. “And I won’t go too far tonight.”

True. She could safeword at any time. She’d almost forgotten that.

Remembering the feel of the feather touching her there made her squirm, but did she really have to tell him that? Ugh. Why did there have to be so many traitorous nerve endings there?

“I have a safeword,” she repeated, wondering if it was possible to die of humiliation. She really didn’t want to have to verbally agree to being touched there.

The way he watched her suggested he was waiting for her to say more, but no other words wanted to come out. She wasn’t about to make conversation with him about it.

Finally, he gave a nod.

He spread her pussy open again, and just the sensation of the air hitting her aching clit made her whine.

“Your poor little clit is all hard,” he gently mocked, leaning forward to blow warm air over it. She gasped and shuddered—his breath and thinking about his tongue almost tipped her over the edge.

She had to tell him what he wanted to know now, before she started screaming and couldn’t stop. She had to come so bad she could cry.

Let him win?

Determined, she took hold of her self-control. There was no damn way she could let him win this—and not just because she hated to lose, but because she had a sneaking suspicion that when he found out he was going to throttle her.

He took a long moment to select a fresh feather from the black case, apparently in no rush. Fuck. If he’d just pinch her where he was holding her open, she’d come so hard. Just a small amount of pressure on her clit and she’d go off like a Fourth of July fireworks display.

If she’d thought she’d had a handle on her arousal, though, the first touch of the new feather showed her she was deluding herself. Slowly, he followed the patterns he’d already drawn on her, until she could feel the trails it had made, every speck of skin he went over burning and throbbing with desperation. Inner thigh, labia, clit, down to her ass.

He set about teasing her ass, pushing her legs back further until he must have had a pornographic zoom shot of everything she owned. Here and there, he let his fingers stray to touch her, making her buck and whine for him to let her come.

The pervert loved that. Alternating, he moved back and forth between her clit and her ass. Her eyes couldn’t focus, and she began to scream profanity at him, not sure what exactly she wanted him to do. Her mouth was dry from panting, and her throat raw.