Avenge Me. Maisey Yates

like it,” he said, not a question.

      She nodded.

      “Good. I like it, too,” he said. “I like that I can push it to the edge with you. That you want me enough that it all feels good. That’s it, isn’t it?”

      A rush of warmth burst through her. “Yes.”

      “I bet I know what you want,” he said.

      “Do you?”

      “You want to come.”

      His words sent a shaft of heat—embarrassed and aroused—through her. “Well, doesn’t everyone?”

      He chuckled, low and sexy. “I suppose. But that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

      “Yes.”

      “Tell me.”

      “I want to...” She’d never said anything like this out loud before. “I want to c-come.”

      “Have I mentioned,” he said, not addressing what she said at all, “that I was dying to see you in these stockings and heels?”

      “No...”

      “I was.” He slid his finger along the lace top of her stay-ups. “So sexy. And these...” He moved his index finger to the top of her panties and dipped it beneath the thin black fabric. She could hardly breathe. Her body felt like it was going to burst into flame at any moment. “These are perfect. But—” he slipped his hand down inside, his palm barely skimming the most intimate part of her as he pushed her underwear down her legs “—I don’t think you’ll need them for a while.”

      He cupped her then, sliding his fingers across her slick flesh, one pressing inside of her. She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.

      He rocked his palm against her clitoris as he pushed his finger in deep, sending a shock wave of sensation through her.

      He dropped down to his knees and kissed her stomach, leaning in then and removing his hand, flicking his tongue over her clit while his finger worked in time with the strokes.

      “Oh...” She laced her fingers through his hair and held her to him, her head back against the wall as she warred between trying to figure out how she’d gotten here tonight, mostly naked, with a man on his knees in front of her, and just trying not to black out.

      She held him tight to her, flexing her hips and chasing her release. She was close...so close...

      “Enough,” he said. “Not yet.”

      “No,” she said, tightening her hold on his hair.

      “You aren’t in any position to give orders,” he said, moving away from her and standing. She wanted to cry with frustration now.

      “I need...”

      “I know what you need,” he said. He started to loosen his tie, undoing the knot and letting it drape over his shoulder. Then he shrugged his coat off. Undid his cuffs. It was maddening to watch. Each detail meticulous, far too slow and utterly arousing.

      She didn’t want to watch him do the world’s slowest striptease. She wanted him to touch her again. Taste her again.

      “We do need some rules,” he said. “Because I want control, but I don’t want to hurt you. Not really. If you need me to stop, you tell me to stop. Just say the word. Don’t think it. Don’t hope it. Say it. I want control, but not force. Do you promise to tell me to stop?” There was something in his eyes when he said that, something that tugged at her. And there was a strand of fear in his voice.

      As if he were truly afraid she would let him go too far.

      And she realized something. He wanted control, but only the control she would give him.

      That was her power. He needed this from her, but she had to be willing to give it. She had to trust him enough that she believed he would stop if she asked.

      She nodded slowly. “Yes.”

      “Good,” he said, the word rough. “Now, on the bed.”

      “What...now?”

      “On the bed,” he said. “Don’t talk unless I tell you to. Get on the bed, in your high heels and stockings, and spread your legs for me.”

      She kept her eyes on his, because she had a feeling she wasn’t permitted to look away, as she got onto the massive bed. She lay back, breathing difficult now as she put her feet as flat as she could.

      Her sky-high shoes almost lifted her rear up off the mattress, leaving her feeling extra exposed. Exceedingly vulnerable.

      She’d never been naked in front of a man before. Ever. And this didn’t follow any guidebook she’d read for sex. Didn’t evoke any of the random novels she’d thumbed through looking for the good stuff.

      But what she wanted never had. But that hadn’t stopped her from wanting it.

      She had no idea what he would do next. No idea what to expect.

      He slid his tie from his shoulders, the stretch of black silk held taut between both of his hands. “You aren’t allowed to come until I say you can,” he said. “And you can’t touch me,” he said, his voice lowering, “until I allow it.”

      “But...”

      “Shhh,” he said, leaning forward, touching the stretch of black silk to her lips, like he meant to gag her with it. “No talking.” Then he moved the tie, laying it over her eyes. “I like that idea,” he said. “But I need to be able to hear you if you need me to.” He lifted the tie higher, to where her hands were resting above her head. The position had seemed natural to her. And now she understood why.

      He slipped the expanse of silk behind her wrists and then wrapped it around one, then the other, before binding them together. She knew that if she told him no, he would stop. So she said nothing. Because she wanted it. Because she liked the element of feeling as though he’d done it without her permission.

      He rose up above her. “So beautiful. And mine,” he said. He put his hands on her legs and pushed them even farther apart, his gaze roaming over her. “All mine.” He lowered his head and pressed a kiss to the tender skin on her inner thigh before moving on to more intimate territory.

      He began to pleasure her with his mouth again, pushing one finger inside of her, then another, pushing her higher, closer to the edge before stopping, pulling back.

      She wanted to tell him to stop. That it was too much. But then he would stop, like he’d promised, and she didn’t want that, either.

      She bit her lip, flexed her hips, tried to force herself closer to him.

      “No,” he said, sliding his tongue over her clit. “You aren’t in charge here, sweetheart. I am. Stop trying to break the rules.”

      He withdrew his fingers from her body and slid them upward, white-hot pleasure spiking through her as he did. “Open,” he said, and she did. “Suck on them for me.”

      This was a test. To see if she would obey. And she wouldn’t fail his test. She opened for him and he slipped his fingers between her lips and she could taste her own pleasure on them. Could taste the evidence of what he’d done to her.

      She ran her tongue along his fingers as he pushed them in her mouth and out again and she felt him shudder, the muscles in his body tensing.

      He reached around behind her head, braced one hand on her neck, grabbed the end of his tie with the other and brought her into a sitting position, with her hands neatly in her lap. Still bound.

      “On your knees,” he said, drawing back and getting off of the bed, his hands working at the belt on his slacks.

      He placed the belt on the edge of the mattress, his movements just as controlled and methodical now as they’d been when he undid his cuffs and tie.

      He