The Consequence (The Evolution of Sin 3)

“Yes,” I gasped, because I wanted it.

“I have something else in mind though, to make this even more beautiful. Would you like it?”

“Yes, please sir.”

“So polite,” he crooned as I heard him snap something open.

Then he was wrapping something cool and textured around my throat.

My heart leapt into my mouth and stayed there while he clasped the necklace behind my nape.

“Collared,” he whispered into the profound silence. “Mine.”

I shivered under the power of his ownership. It felt so final to have his brand around my skin. I hoped it was something I could wear everyday so that even if strangers didn’t know its significance, I would.

“It’s a pearl choker, Elle. You never have to take it off if you don’t want,” he said, reading my thoughts again in that way of his that thrilled and terrified me.

“I don’t want,” I murmured.

“Good girl.”

He pressed his foot between my spread knees, pushing his calf bone hard against my clit. I groaned at the friction of his crisp hair against my flesh. My hips bucked before I could still them.

“Now, you have a choice here, Elle. It is Christmas and I just collared you so I am feeling generous. I will let you get off on my leg before I do what I want with you or you can wait and see if those plans involve you orgasming.”

I shuddered. I didn’t really think he would leave me hanging. Sinclair wasn’t that kind of man or that kind of Dom, but the thought of getting off on his leg was so dirty, so delicious that I started gyrating back and forth before I had even made a conscious choice.

“That’s right, use my leg to get yourself off,” Sin murmured.

I pressed my face into his upper thigh, discovering that he wasn’t naked and his erection was trapped within the confines of his boxer briefs but angled right at my panting mouth. I moved faster, shamelessly as I tongued his cock through the fabric.

“You want me in your mouth, Elle?”

“Yes, please, sir.” My mouth was already dripping with saliva as I imagined the taste of him exploding across my tongue.

“No, I want you to get off on my leg first.”

I increased the tempo, humping his leg hard, grinding my clit into his shin.

“You’re dripping all over my foot,” Sinclair noted and for some reason his calm observation drew the coil tighter in my belly.

I loved the debasement of being on my knees in front of him, bound and finding pleasure in the simple act of humping his leg like a dog. I was too deep in subspace to find the degradation anything but electrifying.

I started whimpering, little sounds of pleasure exploding from my mouth as the climax crawled up my back and took hold of my spine before I could even notice its descent.

“Ahhh,” I moaned as I thrashed against his leg, almost losing my balance with my hands clasped behind my back.

My sex was still spasming as he abruptly lifted me to my feet and pushed me over the side of my bed. I shouted hoarsely into the sheets as his fingers drove into my clenching pussy, curling and driving deep to draw the orgasm on and on and on. My legs shuddered, unable to hold me up as his mouth sought my clit and clamped on.

“No,” I screamed as a terrifying orgasm dropped on top of the first one before it had even finished.

I lost control of my body, my muscles snapping like elastic bands as I collapsed on the bed, only my hips still moving, thrusting back against his fingers and tongue. Sinclair growled into my cunt and ate like a mad man, lapping up the juices that flooded from me.

He adjusted me again just as I was regaining any degree of consciousness, pushing my legs up on the bed and under me so that I was in his favorite position, my hands bound behind my back and my ass presented to him high in the air over my steeply curved spine.

Instead of taking his fingers from me, he added a thumb to the tight pucker of my ass. When I lurched forward, he tugged me back with an arm banded under my belly.

“Does my siren like to be filled?” he asked coldly, before biting into the back of my shoulder.

I shuddered against him. “Y-yes, sir.”

“You tied yourself up so nicely for me, does that mean I can take whatever I want?”

“You can always take whatever you want, sir.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you own me,” I breathed, a shiver clutching me as I spoke my absolute truth.

This man totally and completely owned me but only like this, when I was literally twisting myself into a pretzel to please him, did I really feel alive with his possession.

“Yes, I own this pussy,” he said, sliding a third finger inside and twisting it savagely so that I moaned and hissed at the pleasure pain combination. “I own this pretty pink asshole and I am going to take it as my Christmas present.”