What it does to Skye, I will do to Skye.

I head to the bar in the corner of my bedroom, grab the ice tongs, and place a few cubes on a small plate.

Slowly, I return to the bed.

Skye lies, her wrists bound above her head, secured to the headboard with my nylon rope. Her gorgeous brown eyes covered. Her body supine and at my mercy.

And her lips.

Those gorgeous bloodred lips are parted just a bit—that look that captured me the first time I saw her.

Her flesh, rosy and taut, so very—

Whip!

I bring the crop down on her breasts, jiggling the chain and clamps.

She jerks, and her breasts redden.

I bring the crop down on her again and then again.

As she reddens further, the warmth of her body caresses me.

Another lash. Another.

The sting of the crop travels through the leather as if it’s an electric current sending an intense sensation through me.

“The tops of your breasts are rosy pink, Skye. So beautiful. Do you want me to do it again?”

“Yes, please. Whatever you want.”

I bring the crop down once more and then again. She gasps and then sighs. Gasps and then sighs. Gasps—

“Oh!”

Fuck. I can’t take it anymore. I pull one nipple clamp off, freeing her nipple. Then the other. Then I suck. Take that engorged nipple between my lips and suck hard. Her nipples will be sore tomorrow, but that’s okay, because every time she feels the prick of pain, she’ll know I was there.

She’ll know those nipples belong to me.

I continue sucking. One nipple and then the other. I lick the pebbled flesh, nip at the hard nubs. She writhes beneath me, pulling at her restraints, moaning, arching.

In a flash, I grab one of the ice cubes from the nightstand and touch it to a nipple.

“Oh!”

Her areola shrinks up tight.

Nice. Very nice. So beautiful.

I trail the ice cube around both nipples and then over the tops of her breasts. She shudders, and the chill of her skin floats up to me, making goose bumps rise on my forearms.

I trail down her flat belly, letting the warmth of her skin melt the ice into a tiny river that pools in her belly button. Again I imagine a piercing there—a barbell I can tug on with my fingers, my teeth.

I continue the path of ice down her vulva.

When I touch it briefly to her clit, she jerks and arches.

“Braden!” she cries.

Tags: Helen Hardt Follow Me Billionaire Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net