Chapter 8

ESME  

The sudden slack at my wrists makes my heart leap. The cuffs loosen, and then the tension on my shoulders finally vanishes. For a split second, I actually think he’s done with the torturing. I think the punishment is over...  

But...  

I’m wrong.  

He doesn't let me move. Before I can even pull my arms down, he grabs my waist and flips me over. I land hard on my stomach.  

"Lorenzo—"  

His weight is back on me instantly. He grabs my legs, forcing them to fold at the knees until my heels are pressed against my glutes. Then he uses fresh leather to tie my ankles securely to my thighs.  

I’m forced into a tight, helpless hunch and completely defenseless.  

Just my ass in the air.  

And blindfolded.  

He’s not finished. He takes my arms, pulls them behind my back, and ties my wrists together. My head sinks into the mattress.  

"Great. Pinned, folded like a lawn chair, and completely in the dark. You know, if your plan is to finally murder me, this is a lot of effort for a one-star review."  

He leans down, lips brushing my ears.  

"Careful there. That mouth is going to be the death of you. But don't worry. I'm gonna ruin it before the night is over."  

I swallow hard, my throat tight.  

He leans back, shifting his weight off my spine before burying his face in my ass.  

"Oh God."  

I whimper as he traces his tongue on my clit, like he's savoring the last drop of something he’s been starved of for weeks.  

My moan is muffled in the sheets; every flick of his tongue is driving me insane.

 

Still licking, he tightens his grip on my thigh, almost bruising as he sucks me dry.  

I arch violently against the restraints, stars busting between my eyes as he goes faster. More wild and untamed.  

He increases the pace, driving me over the edge.  

I lose it; moans slip out of my lips as the waves hit me.  

Slow but growing more intense until the tension snaps, and I’m nothing but a raw, pulsing mess.  

Shaking uncontrollably.  

Brain short circuit.  

My cum sprays directly into his mouth as I convulse.  

He doesn't pull away. He drinks me in, swallowing every drop while I’m still crashing from the high.  

Finally, he pulls back; the air hits my wet skin with a sharp chill.  

"Good girl," he rasps, slapping my clit, sending a spark electric through me. It's brief, but the sting leaves me twitching, my hips bucking as I chase the feeling.  

Panting, I wrestle with the leather, trying to find any leverage to bridge the gap between us, but he grabs my arms and pushes me further into the sheets.  

His hardness presses against me.  

"Lorenzo, please," I choke out. "I can't—I’m empty. Stop teasing me and just... fill me."  

"And what do I get in return if I fill you?"  

"Anything." I say too fast.  

"I suggest you think very carefully before you say that word to me again," he warns. "'Anything' is a debt you can't afford, so tell me again. And this time, mean it."  

"Anything! Okay? Just fuck me. God, you're so—Ah!"  

He enters me in one fluid motion, a surge that steals the breath out of my lungs.  

"Oh fuck."  

He doesn't wait for me to recover. He pulls back just as fast, the friction nearly setting me on fire, before slamming back in.  

The bed frame groans under the impact. I’m pinned, my chest crushed into the mattress, unable to do anything but take him.  

Each thrust is deep, hitting that exact spot. It turns my brain to static. I can’t even find the air to moan anymore; I can only gasp as he turns my body into a mess.  

He leans down, sliding his hand under my stomach to tilt my hips higher, forcing me to take even more of him.  

"Fuck," he grunts. "You're taking every inch of me like a pro. Most girls would have snapped by now, but you... you're just begging for more."  

Most girls? I whip my head around; I can't see his face clearly, but he knows I'm looking.  

"Most girls? Who have you been fucking with?"  

"Should I recite the names?" I can't tell if he's smirking or not, but he sounds satisfied by my tone.  

He buries himself back inside me with one shove, and I try not to moan. How can I when he’s just made something shift inside me?  

He leans in. "What? You don't wanna hear their names?"  

"Fuck you."  

"I’ll take that as a request," he rasps.  

I twist my lips, biting back a scream as he hits the edge of my cervix. I shouldn't make him think his little mind games are working, or that I give a damn who else he’s been with. He’s such a whore.  

But I can’t help it.  

"Are they prettier than me?"  

He chuckles. "I’d love to show you."  

He grabs my waist, hauling me up and spinning me until I'm facing the floor-to-ceiling mirror on the opposite wall. Shoving me down, my palms slap the glass as he stays connected, his eyes locked on mine in the reflection.  

"That's how she looks, and how she falls apart when I fuck her."  

He increases his pace, his thrusts turning into a frantic blur in the mirror.  

Climax hits, surging violently; it erases the jealousy short-circuiting my brain until I’m nothing but a shaking, mindless mess.  

I can't think. I can hardly breathe steadily as the world blurs into a haze of heat and friction. My body gives up, muscles lock. I tremble in his grip as he hammers me to the edge.  

I’m completely numb to everything but the way he’s still driving into me, making sure I feel every bit of the crash.  

He groans in satisfaction, his body tensing for his own release.  

He moves fast, thrusts harder, panting.  

I scream. It rips from my throat as my every sense finally explodes.  

Just then, the sharp clack of the door handle twisting cuts through the room.  

We both freeze.  

The sound is unmistakable. Someone is trying to get in.