Geomancist (Seven Forbidden Arts 5)

She hissed into the fabric that soaked up the moisture in her mouth, throwing daggers at him with her eyes. When anger didn’t work, she pleaded by shaking her head.

Unaffected, he turned and left her alone with a slow-building hum that vibrated through her body.

If anyone had told Asia the need to orgasm was one of the cruelest tortures, she’d never have believed it. She didn’t know for how long she’d been lying on Juan’s bed, tied up and connected to his insufferable device, but eventually the room turned dark. Her arms ached from the lack of circulation and her throat burned from thirst. The worst was her sex. It throbbed as if it had a heartbeat of its own. She was going out of her mind.

Closing her eyes, she focused on taking deep breaths. She tried to think about anything but the ache between her legs. Mechanically induced, her need climbed endlessly while release was never within reach. To distract herself, she hummed songs in her mind and recited prayers from Sunday school. Finally, she simply gave up and embraced the agony.

It was so dark that she didn’t notice the figure in the door until he flicked on the light. She blinked for her eyes to adjust, and then her heart slammed into her chest.

Eric stepped into the room. Did Juan know he was here? Certainly not. She protested around the fabric in her mouth.

Glancing over his shoulder, he stepped up cautiously. She watched with panic as he hovered over the white device. When he reached for the switch, she nodded, but after a moment’s hesitation, he dropped his hand.

What was he doing? Why didn’t he switch off the machine?

Realization dawned as he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants to take out his cock. Fisting himself, he pumped twice. The son of a bitch was jerking himself off. He pulled and twisted his wrist. In a few seconds, his face pulled into a grimace. Grunting, he stumbled a step back. He groped for the box of tissues on the nightstand and cleaned his hand and his flaccid cock. Without sparing her another glance, he shoved his dick back into his pants and turned his back on her to zip up.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, still not meeting her eyes as he flicked off the light and left the same way he came.

Son of a bitch. Her upper body collapsed on the mattress. She hadn’t even realized that she’d been straining her neck. If only she’d pass out, but her body didn’t grant her the luxury. Closing her eyes, she hoped to find relief in sleep, but it was impossible.

Not long after Eric’s exit, the lights came on again. She opened her eyes. Juan stepped into the room. He walked slowly around the bed and stopped at her side before tapping her temple in silent instruction. When she turned her head, he undid the scarf and removed the gag. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. Her throat felt like sandpaper.

He raised a brow. “Something you’d like to ask me?”

Her voice was scratchy. “Please…” She just wanted this to end.

“Please what?”

“Switch it off.”

“I could turn it up. It’ll make you come instantly.”

She shook her head. She didn’t want him to derive satisfaction from her pleasure, and this was far from pleasure. This was perverse torture.

He shrugged. “Up to you.” Cupping her head, he asked, “Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me then.”

Steeling herself, she uttered the lie. “I want to stay.”

He patted her cheek. “Good girl.”

He flipped the switch, and the room went silent. The current that had been feeding her volts died, but the hum continued to vibrate like an echo in her lower body.

Juan untied her wrists and her ankles. “I think you’re going to sleep like a baby.”

Fuck him. She yanked up her pants and fastened them. She could think of a thousand insults to yell at him, but all she could do was bite her tongue. She just had to get the hell out of this room.

When she sat up, he took her hand, intertwining their fingers. It took a mountain of willpower not to pull away.

Rubbing a thumb over her knuckles, he said, “It’s hard for me to let you go now. My self-constraint alone should tell you how I feel about you.” He nodded as if an important matter had been resolved and then said solemnly, “Good night, my sweet.”

Jumping from the bed, she rushed from the room, back to her own. Someone had switched on the nightstand lamp. The soft light illuminated the room and the man sitting in the armchair next to the bed.

She gave a start.

Sean sat with his elbows resting on the armrests and his legs spread wide, but she wasn’t fooled by the relaxed posture. Tension emanated from him in waves.