Sweet Captivity

“Then why did you?”

One corner of his lips twisted up in a cocky smile. “Because I know you’re a strong, capable woman, but I’m going to make you purr.”

My core contracted, and I struggled to maintain a hard mask. “What if I don’t like being called kitten?”

“You do.”

I tried my best to scoff. “You think you know everything.”

“I know enough.” Keeping his hold on my wrists, his free hand dipped between us. He deftly opened the button at the front of my jeans, and his fingers slipped beneath the elasticized band at the top of my sensible blue cotton panties. His touch danced over my clit. I rocked toward him, but he explored farther, sliding his fingers through my embarrassingly wet folds to press inside me. He filled me slowly, and I gasped at the intrusion. He watched me intently, his bright green eyes trapping me as securely as his hold on my wrists. “Good little kitten,” he rumbled. My inner muscles squeezed his fingers, and a humiliating whimper slipped through my lips.

His low, arrogant chuckle made my core clench again. “You see?” he said, his warm breath fanning my neck as he leaned in close. “You love it. You want to be my good little sex kitten, don’t you?”

“Jason,” I said tremulously, struggling to hold on to some semblance of control.

“Sir,” he corrected.

“What?”

“Address me as Sir. I’m in charge tonight. I know this is different for you, but if you let go and trust me, I promise I’ll make you come harder than you ever have in your life.”

I bit my lip, hesitating. Could I trust a man I’d only just met? This was insane.

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nbsp; “Say yes, kitten,” he commanded, his voice dropping impossibly deeper. The sound vibrated through my bones, and I shivered in delight.

This felt so good. What harm could come of it? We would only have one night of wild sex.

“All right,” I agreed, deciding to engage in his game.

His chin tilted back, and he seemed to grow suddenly taller as he stared down at me. “I want you to beg me,” he said, still coolly controlled.

“What?” I asked again, aghast at his demand.

“Beg me to fuck you,” he said, leaning in close. His lips ghosted across my neck, his teeth nipped at my throat. “Beg me to make you mine. I want to hear you say it. I need to know that you trust me before we continue.”

“I… Yes. I trust you.” I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. If he wanted to, he would have tried it by now. He wouldn’t be asking for my permission.

“Then beg,” he whispered against my throat, the words sliding over my skin.

I shivered. “I… Please. I want you to fuck me.”

“Sir,” he prompted, his voice taking on a dark edge. It made my core flutter around his fingers.

“Please fuck me, Sir,” I panted, aching for him to take me. I wanted him to shove down my jeans, free his cock, and fuck me hard.

His fingers curved against the secret spot at the front of my inner walls, and I moaned as pleasure lit up my system.

“Such a sweet little kitten,” he praised. His warm approval heated my insides with more than simple lust. “We’ll get to that part later.”

He slowly withdrew his fingers from inside me, leaving me feeling desperately empty. I whined at the loss, but he hushed me with a quick brush of his lips against mine. Then he released my wrists and hooked his fingers through the top of my jeans and my panties. He pulled them down in a smooth motion, sliding down my body as he dropped to his knees before me. I stared at him, panting in need. I wanted to tangle my fingers in his thick black hair and guide his mouth toward my sex, but I remained still, trembling with the effort of resisting my carnal urges. After the way he’d dominated my mouth and my pussy, I knew he wouldn’t approve of me taking charge. He was utterly in control, and I’d willingly surrendered to him.

He pressed a feather light kiss directly above my clit.

“Please,” I begged, sweat beading on my brow with the effort of resisting the impulse to rock my hips toward him.

“Shhh.” His breath blew across my heated lower lips in a cool stream as he gently silenced me. A small, strangled noise of pure need teased the back of my throat, but I didn’t speak again. He gently gripped my ankles, one after the other, guiding me to step out of my flats and jeans, leaving me wearing nothing but my bra. Once he’d stripped me, he eased my thighs apart with a firm grip. Suddenly, his thumbs parted my pussy lips, and he studied me intently, as though my sex was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen. I watched him with rapt attention as he toyed with my wet folds, exploring my shape and the slick readiness that coated my swollen folds.