I release a shuddery breath. “Yes.”
“I want you to show me just how much. Will you do that?”
I nod eagerly, suddenly gripped by an urgent need to please him. “Of course.”
“Will you be a good girl and take whatever I want to give you?”
“Yes. Anything.”
“You really are so much more than I expected.” Wrapping his hand around my throat, over the collar, he pulls me into him, and I nearly moan at the intense heat of his body pressed against my naked back. “We’re gonna play a game now,” he rasps into my ear. “I’m gonna ask you whether you want something, and you’re gonna say yes or no—very clearly, so there’s no doubt—and then I’ll do that to you.Ifyou say no, I’m gonna stop, and you won’t get more tonight. Are you up for that?”
I clear my voice. “Yes.”
He chuckles. “I thought so. Stay put.”
He moves away, and I stand completely still, breathing hard with the rush of it all as he moves things around, both smaller objects and bigger things.
When he comes back, I’m like putty in his hands, openly letting him turn me around and steer me forward. He makes me tell him how much I want him while he helps me onto the pianobench, on my knees, then makes me bend over the now closed piano lid.
“You look beautiful on your knees. All ready and waiting for me.”
I gasp when he nudges my legs apart and strokes a finger over the crotch of my panties.
“Do you want me to take off your panties, Jenna?”
“Yes,” I all but moan.
From then on, all that escapes me is long strings of ‘yes’ after ‘yes’ and breathy moans. I have no idea what’s gotten over me. Killian asks if I want him to pull down my panties and spank my ass. I say yes. He asks if I want him to put nipple clamps on my breasts. I say yes. He asks if I want him to gag me. I answer in a full sentence, telling him to push the horrible rubber ball past my teeth.
I barely know what I’m agreeing to, yet I know that I want it all. Every little perverted thing he does. I crave his praise, his gentle touch, and even the pain that somehow drives my need higher. I crave the intoxicating feeling of being fully and completely at his mercy—being his.
All the while, Killian taunts me with how wet I’m becoming, touching my opening and teasing, driving my need to insane heights and making me reckless in my desire.
“So fucking wet,” he says, dragging a finger through my pussy lips.
I mewl around the gag, more than a little embarrassed. But when he moves his wet finger backward, through my ass cheeks, I start to tense up.
“You’resowet”—he presses his finger deeper, ontothathole—“I could lube your ass with your own juices.”
“No,” I protest around the gag, going completely rigid.
“Do you want me to stuff something inside your ass, Jenna?”
I’m about to repeat my garbled protest, but something makes me hesitate. That reckless desire to succumb to whatever he wants. And when he moves his finger back across my slick opening and finds my sensitive nub, all sense of logic crashes in a flood of desire.
I cry out, and more moans have me sputtering uncontrollably around the gag as he circles my clit. His touch is smooth and slick, sending jolts of electricity deep into my pussy. I jerk and buck from the onslaught of sensation, almost afraid I’ll make the piano bench topple over.
But then it all stops. Killian pulls his hand away and takes a step back.
I reel for a moment, feeling lost. Tears well in my eyes as my body keeps pounding with the need to… just go a little further.
“Eease,” I beg around the gag.
“Please what? Stuff something inside your ass?”
I nod frantically, barely even knowing what he’s saying. All I know is that I want—need—more.
“Do you want me to stuff that tight little hole of yours, Jenna?”