“You look so good,” I said, unable to contain it. His lean chest was hard and toned in all the right places, and I craved to have his smooth, hot skin against mine.
He paused. “Who said you could speak?”
I sucked in a breath. Luka liked to control all things when we were together, and I should have realized he expected to control my voice as well. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Which was clearly the wrong thing to do. Displeasure arrowed his eyebrow up. He repeated it in a demanding tone. “Who said you could speak?”
I knew better than to say anything else.
When he seemed satisfied I wasn’t going to talk, he put his hands on my breasts, caressing them. His warm palms kneaded and traced my curves, and I reveled in his touch, closing my eyes to enjoy the sensation better—
There was a sharp smack of fingers against skin as he slapped my breast.
“Eyes on me.”
I fluttered my eyelids back open. The sight of him shirtless and standing between my bound legs was intensely hot, and his dark, lewd expression in the flickering shadows was incendiary. I had to press my lips together to hold in the moan.
He moved lower. His fingertips drew a line down my belly and glided further along, continuing all the way through my center and up to a bent knee. Then, they trailed back down to where I was quivering. His feather light touch caused the muscles in the insides of my thighs to contract and flinch. I withstood his teasing for a lifetime, growing hot and more desperate with each passing moment. When was he going to really touch me? When was he going to fuck me?
He yanked a drawer open and searched around inside. It was shut with a thump beneath me, and he held something silver in his hands. A short strand of tiny silver beads. Clamps gleamed at either end. I watched with apprehension as he studied the clamps.
I was fairly sure where these were going, and when he gripped one of my breasts in a steady hand, it confirmed it. The jaws of the rubber tipped clamp pinched open, and then bit down on my hardened nipple.
It hurt. Not badly, but it was a burning ache. I gulped down breath as he fastened the clamp on the other nipple and dropped the cold chain connecting them onto my abdomen. His gaze flitted to mine, checking my reaction.
“I’m okay—” Wait, shit! I wasn’t supposed to speak.
His face turned to stone. “Congratulations. You’ve just lost the privilege of my touch.”
My heart sprinted. What did he mean? Again, he jerked the drawer open and something else was dug out. When Luka shut it, my mouth fell open. He dropped one on my stomach while he pulled the other on—a black latex glove. He tugged it up to his wrist, and then retrieved the other and shoved his hand inside. There was the tiny cloud of powder as it was snapped on. He laced his fingers together and settled the latex tightly in place.
It wasn’t like his rubber-coated touch was all that different than his regular one, but the implied idea was what got to me. This barrier between us, denying pure contact and dulling his heat. His black hands squeezed and gripped at me, while his bare chest shone faintly with sweat from the fire, and his belt buckle glinted against his black pants. He looked dangerous—no, lethal—this way. Fucking gorgeous.
I moaned when he pushed two fingers deep between my legs. Finally.
The chain between my breasts was clenched in a black-gloved hand while the other fucked me. His voice was commanding. “You’ll say my name when I pull on this chain.”
There was a small pull, generating heat and a sting on my nipples. “Luka.”
Pleasure rippled over his expression. “Who owns this body?”
Tug. “Luka.”
“Who’s the only man you’ve had inside you?”
Tug. I gasped at the sensation. It was painful, but in the way I enjoyed. “Luka.”
“Tell me who your greedy, wet pussy aches for?”
Tug. “Luka,” I moaned.
“Tell me,” he said, his words stronger, “who you belong to.”
Tug. I was half out of my mind. “Luka.”
His fingers drove into the spot, and his thumb circle above, giving me dual pleasure. His expression shifted into one that was beyond lust, into something I hadn’t seen before. It made my heart stop.
“Tell me the name of the man you love.”
Tug.
My mind went blank.
His second tug was more of a jerk, and I gasped against the acute pain, but no words spilled from my lips.
“Goddamnit, Addison. Answer me.”
He pulled so hard, I cried out and jerked against the rope. Emotion swirled and tumbled. I cared deeply about him, but love? I had to come up with a response. “You said no lies!”
The chain crashed against my skin as he dropped his hold and stumbled backward, staring at me with disbelief. He looked wild and . . .