Sordid (Sordid 1)

“You’re going to tell me your schedule now,” he said.

As I lay beneath him, anger swelled. “No. I held up my end of the deal, and you didn’t.” I glared into his deep black eyes. “You said you’d only tie me up for a little while.”

His gaze followed his fingertips. They skimmed at the line of buttonholes on the shirt, down between the valley of my breasts, and over my quivering belly.

“Yeah, well . . .” His fingers stopped at the top of my panties. “I have something I want to use first, but it’s taking longer to charge than I expected.”

The way his voice was tinged with excitement made my heart thud and my pulse race.

“What are you talking about?” Again, I tried to scoot away from his fingers, but they continued to skim over me. They drew a line down my thigh, tracing patterns.

“I had my assistant pick something up for me this morning while you were sleeping. It’s been charging for the last five hours.” His hand froze. “Should I get it?”

I was fairly certain the answer was no, but he didn’t wait for a response. Luka got up, exited the room, and shut the door behind him. In the quiet, my nerves swelled like an ocean during a storm. I imagined the worst possible scenarios. I fully expected him to return with a torture device. And . . . he had an assistant?

The door swung open abruptly, and he returned, carrying something small enough to fit in one hand. His expression was an enigma as he came closer. Was this interest? Desire? Lust? His eyes were magnetic.

He revealed it to me as he sat, and the bed shifted under his weight. It was black, U-shaped, and one side was larger than the other. I stared at it critically. The thing looked like it was made out of some kind of rubber, and I hadn’t the faintest clue what it was.

I gasped when he set it down on the bed and put his hand right on top of my underwear without warning. I jolted against the straps to no avail. I couldn’t stop him. My words wouldn’t dissuade him. His thick fingers probed and circled, rubbing me on my clit, even as I pressed my knees together and tried to get him to stop.

Luka’s voice was dark and sinful. “I want you to get off while we’re fucking, but I know that’s not going to happen just yet. So we can train for it.”

“Don’t,” I whispered, filled with unease. My hips moved to get away, but I worried all I was doing was making it easier for him, and then an even scarier thought took root. What if I was doing it on purpose? His touch felt weird. Almost, sort of . . . good.

I was sick. He’d raped me. How could I be responding to him, even a little? Shame stormed through me.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Addison,” he said. He dragged air in through parted lips as he watched me squirm. “So sexy, and all for me.”

His hand moved faster, grinding the cotton of my panties to my flesh, teasing. I struggled against my bindings, but even that added to my enjoyment of the experience in a twisted way. I couldn’t get free. And since I was his captive, the vilest part of myself whispered I might as well get something from it. Take pleasure from him the way he took it from me.

I clamped my teeth together, but it didn’t silence my breathless moan. It slipped out quietly, but Luka definitely heard it. It kicked him into a new gear, and his fingers dove beneath my panties to touch me where I was hot and aching.

“Oh,” I groaned. My eyes slammed shut and I turned my head away from him, trying to shut him out. It was the most bizarre thing ever. I’d spent countless nights envisioning him touching me like this when it was my own hand, and now that it was him actually doing it, I thought I should picture someone else.

I grew damp as my body rocked appallingly against his hand. The disgusting voice in my head wanted to beg him to put his fingers inside me, so I pressed my lips together to stay silent. I forced all thought from my mind, since any pleasure brought guilt, and I was feeling a lot of both of those.

“Open those perfect blue eyes and look at me,” he ordered.

I blinked open and stared up at him, wishing for him to stop and wordlessly pleading with him to continue. Heat moved in waves from his touch. The pads of his fingers fumbled over my slippery skin, but never dipped inside as I was beginning to crave them to.

“I want to watch you come.” Luka gripped the waistband of my panties and slowly worked it down until I was exposed.