“Tell me, sweetheart,” he murmured. “When I fucked you in your dreams, was it good?”
“Yes, Sir,” I panted.
His eyes glittered.
“Was I gentle?”
“No, Sir,” I confessed, kneading at my breast, starved forhistouch, not my own.
“Did it hurt?”
“Maybe,” I huffed, and he smirked.
“And did you like that?”
Yes. And part of me hated him for asking these things, but the other part of me adored him for it. He was stealing words from my lips that he knew I would never offer on my own, forcing me to tell him exactly how I liked it.
“Yes, Sir.”
A low chuckle, like thunder rolling in the distance.
“Oh, you really were made for me, weren’t you, sweet thing?”
“I’d like to think so,” I whimpered, half out of my mind with need.
Logic and reason were long gone, replaced by my most carnal desires laid bare before the man I had been desperate for, the only man who had ever fucked me like I wanted. The only person who had ever treated my submission like the gift that it was. I would have happily wrapped myself up in ribbons just so he could watch me come undone.
“Come for me, Little Conduit.”
It took all of thirty seconds for me to find the perfect pattern and cadence needed to follow his instructions, gasping for breath as the tremor of my orgasm shot through me. It was rare that I ever felt so spent by my own hand, but relief washed over me like the comfort of a blanket as my muscles relaxed. For a moment, I just stared at the ceiling, dazed.
“You’re such a good girl,” Kieran praised. “I think you’ve earned a reward.”
Was that not a reward?
Apparently, in my dizzied state of mind, intoxicated by endorphins and the most attractive man I had ever met watching me get myself off, I accidentally spoke those words aloud.
“Oh, Arken,” he said. “That wasn’t evenclose.”
All that I could do was sigh with pleasure, holding his gaze.
“Can my reward be you taking that godsdamned shirt off, then?” I requested. “Sir?”
He smirked.
“I was getting around to that,” he replied. “Forgive me if I found myselfdistracted.”
“By feeding your own ego?” I laughed.
“Something like that. And this isnotwhat I consider your reward, for the record,” he replied, pulling the soft black undershirt over his head.
My eyes traveled ravenously across the tanned flesh he had just exposed—admiring every nick and scar. The hard muscle, the haunting ink that crawled up his neck, all of it was captivating.
“Though, allow me to offer you a confession or two in return, you insatiable creature.” He leaned forward and let the tips of his fingers trail across my thighs. “Sit up. And give me your hand.”
I extended my left palm, and he swatted it away.
“The other one,” he demanded.