But when Killian steps aside and I see what’s waiting for me in the room, I freeze. Pressing my hands to my cheeks, I shake my head frantically. All Ian’s reassurances disappear with a sharp gust of air, icy chills cascading down my spine.
Killian grabs my arm. I expect him to force me forward, but he simply turns me around, inspecting me. I can hear the wicked smile in his voice when he sees my back and the words Ianscribbled there. “This ass is already nice and clean,” he reads, trailing a finger over the letters.
Gripping both my arms, he turns me to face him, and his authoritative expression brings me back toward that soft space despite the growing anxiety.
“Then we can get right to it,” he says, but instead of steering me on, he takes his time studying me, reading every nuance of anxiety and desire. “You’re gonna do as I say, aren’t you, Jenna?”
His words push all the right buttons, stirring that instinctive desire to do just that. I nod.Of course, I want to say, but the memory of what happened the last time he put me onthatbench snuffs out the words. “What if…” I close my eyes and push a shuddery breath through rounded lips. “What if the same thing happens as the last time?”
“It won’t.”
“How do you know?”
He leans close to my ear, his hot breath tickling the sensitive spot. “Because you, little Jenna, are my new instrument. I’ve spent months learning how to master you. I know exactly which buttons to push to make you balance on that fine line between panic and desire. And that’s where you’ll be tonight. My little puppet on a string.” He trails his knuckles over my cheek, down my neck, and my collarbone.
I shudder beneath his touch, sinking deeper, feeling my brain already shifting, growing pliant even at the thought of that horrible thing awaiting me.
The piano bench with the protruding phallus.
46
The Bench
Jenna
My every muscle coils tight when Killian steers me into the room, but instead of heading for the horrible piano bench, he brings me to the regular one at the side of the piano. Like he did that first night and has done several times after, he helps me up on my knees and makes me lean over the closed lid. Then he starts preparing my ass. Latex gloves snap, lube trickles between my ass cheeks, and Killian invades that very intimate opening.
I can’t resist the burning desire to succumb—to his power and to the maddening sensation of his finger working against all those sensitive nerves. I let myself go, forgetting about the bench awaiting me as I moan and buck in open invitation, relaxing my muscles, letting Killian push all the way inside. One finger. Two fingers. And finally, three fingers.
“Fuck, Jenna, you’re like a cat in heat,” Killian growls when he sinks that final digit in place, making me whimper with urgency, overcome by the tight stretch. “Three fingers, that’s how much I have inside your ass. That wooden dildo is gonna slide right in.”
“No,” I protest, but it’s half-hearted. The idea of the terrible, stiff phallus is only a vague threat in the whirlwind of desire that has taken over my mind.
“Oh, yes.” He pulls out, and the latex snaps again as he removes the glove and throws it away. Then he pushes one long digit inside my unused pussy, drawing a long moan of desperate desire from me. “You’re so fucking wet I don’t even need lube. I could simply have you fucking your own pussy on the dildo before I force your ass onto it.”
“Please don’t,” I gasp, but I’m not sure I truly mean it. It’s more a reaction to his mocking tone. Because the idea of having anything inside that opening has me panting and squirming shamelessly.
He pulls me to my feet, turning me to him. “Open,” he demands, grabbing my hair and leaning in. Before I can realize what he means, he pushes his wet finger against my lips, straight into my mouth. I try to pull away, but Killian just tightens his grip on my hair, easily immobilizing me as he rubs, turns, and twists his finger, coating my tongue in the musky taste of my desire.
“It’s a shame Dad wants to keep you a virgin or I’d stuff a dildo inside your slick pussy and have you lick it clean.” He pulls out and inserts his finger into my pussy. “We’ll just have to do it like this instead.”
I clench my teeth when he prods his finger, once again slick with my juices, against my lips.
He gives my head a shake. “Open,” he demands with that reverberating authority that spears straight through my autonomy. My lips part, my jaw goes slack. My mouth opens, and I groan and wince as Killian once again feeds me my own juices.
He keeps going, over and over, until my brain is a muddled mess. No thoughts, no modesty. He has wiped it all away, leaving me a needy creature that obeys without hesitation.
When he finally helps me off the bench, I can barely stand. My legs are weak, my balance off, and I’m so goddamn desperate for release that I can’t focus on anything else.
“It’s time,” Killian announces, steering me around the piano.
A stab of panic goes through my brain. The haze dulls it somewhat, but as Killian just holds me there, forcing me to face the bench, memories come rushing, blurry but potent, breaking up the fog. My heart starts pounding and my palms become sweaty.
Killian reaches for something on the piano and places it in my hand. It’s not until he speaks that I realize what it is.
“Go lube it up.”
“What?” I glance down at the tube in my hand. A black bottle that saysAnal Lubein big bold letters. “No!” I drop the bottle and jerk away so hard I lose my footing.