Good Gone Bad (The Fallen Men 3)

I loved how he played with me, as if I was an object that existed only for his pleasure. It should have felt wrong, maybe even degrading, but it didn’t because Danner was playing me the way he played his guitar, masterfully, removed only because he needed the focus to strum every string just right.

“Are you on birth control?”

I nodded, desperate for the feel of him bare inside me. “Yeah, and, sucks to say, but I got tested after Cricket and I’m clean,” I told him.

His smile made the pain of the memory disappear like a phantom. “Never fuck without a condom, haven’t touched anyone in weeks. You trust me?”

I didn’t have to think. “Yes, always.”

I moaned when he moved away, but he only smiled a cruel little smile that touched me like his mouth to my pussy and moved away. I watched with low lidded eyes as he pulled open a drawer filled with plastic bags, rubber bands, clothes pins and other catch-all materials.

“What are you doing?” I questioned.

He quelled me with a single, displeased glare.

I chewed on my lip as he moved back to me, his hands behind his back until he fell into a crouch and revealed a zip tie in one hand. He watched my eyes widen, my chest heave as he slowly bound my left ankle to the drawer of one cabinet and then the right to another. I could see the intent in his eyes, the gleam of wickedness and satisfaction that I was open and secured for him.

He watched his fingers trail up my ankle, tingling over the skin of my calf, a lazy circle around my knee cap and up over the thin skin on the inside of my thigh. When he reached the bare lips of my sex, his fingers danced over them up to the small rectangle of hair over my clit and then he tugged it sharply between his knuckles. My hips jerked forward, my head tipped back, and I panted at the perverse pleasure to be had in that pain.

“This is a game of Dominance and submission, Rosie,” he told me, pinching my chin lightly with one hand as the other hand moved to cover my cunt. It was a possessive gesture, holding me there, his fingers gentle but firm as if it was his pussy to do what he wanted with. I tried to gyrate against him, get any kind of pressure on my aching clit but he stopped me by sinking two fingers into my sex and curling up, pining my pussy from the inside out in a move that made me melt in his hand.

“And it’s a game we’ve been playing with each other for a very long time. Only now, it’s sexual and I need you to understand the difference. This isn’t about pain,” he told me even as he plucked at my nipples and made me hiss. “It isn’t about you blindly obeying my every command because you feel you have to. It’s about you giving me your trust, knowing that I arouse you and abuse you with my body, with my words and with my toys not to hurt you, but to own you so I can banish everything from your head—all the bad, all the worry and dread—and bring you peace.”

Tears hurtled to my eyes and prickled in my nose. It was embarrassing to feel so emotional when he had his hand in me, when we were talking about something as simple as sex.

But it didn’t feel simple. It felt like he was offering me dreams I’d never been able to voice, offering to take me to a place I’d never even be able to picture in my head.

It felt like he was going to guide me to a place where I could learn to love myself.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” he asked, and I focused back on his face to find it hard with resolve, his mouth soft with desire and his eyes, his greener than freshly watered grass eyes were filled with love.

“Yes, Lion,” I said.

His brows slammed down over his gaze, transforming his face with gorgeous intensity a second before he fisted the hand at my face in the back of my hair, tugged me back and crashed his demanding mouth to mine.

Instantly, my mind went blank.

There was nothing to me but my lips on his, the warm, wet slide of his tongue in my mouth and the way his stubble rasped over my cheek, his lean hips between my lewdly spread legs, his hand working between, in and out of my cunt, twisting, curling, turning until every inch of me sung with pleasure.

“So wet for me,” he groaned into my ear then traced his tongue around the shell it. I shuddered when he bit the lobe and scraped his teeth over it. “So willing to let me play with your gorgeous body.”