Bargaining with Pleasure
“Nothing.” I looked away, unwilling to share something so painful, so personal. That tin life had been mine–the one pure thing in my disastrous relationship with Dorian. I couldn’t bear to have Kaius treat it as merely an inconvenience to his plans.
He gripped my chin, forcing my gaze back to his. “Again, Elowen, you disobey me.”
I closed my eyes briefly, summoning my courage. “It’s nothing serious… I had a miscarriage two weeks ago, but I am fine now.”
His hand froze on my face. “And you didn’t think you should have told me this earlier?”
Anger flared hot in my chest. “Why would I tell you? It is my personal life, not at all your business.”
His grip tightened slightly. “You do not seem to understand, Elowen; you are my business.” His eyes darkened as they swept over my body.
His declaration left me speechless. I turned my face away, avoiding his penetrating gaze.
“What was the cause of this miscarriage?” he asked without preamble, his voice low in the darkness.
I blinked, disoriented by the abrupt question.
“I cannot tell you that,” I whispered.
His expression hardened. “I will find out either way.”
“Well, good luck with that.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, a small act of defiance in a situation where I had little control.
Instead of anger, a slow smile spread across his face. “Then maybe a little fun.”
My breath caught in my throat.
His hand moved to rest on my hip, the heat of his palm searing against my skin. I tensed,
watching as his eyes traveled down my body with obvious hunger.
I hated myself for it, but I was captivated by the way he looked.
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Bargaining with Pleasure
My cheeks burned under his scrutiny, and I hated myself for it. This man had all but purchased me, had humiliated me, had made it clear I was nothing but a contractual obligation to him–yet my body responded to his proximity like a compass finding north
“What are you doing?” I asked as he reached toward the bedside table, retrieving something I couldn’t quite see.
He didn’t answer. In one fluid motion, he moved over me, straddling my body without touching me, his knees on either side of my hips. I went still, unable to move under his intense stare.
“What are you doing?” I repeated, my voice rising with panic as he took my wrists in one large hand.
With his other hand, he revealed what he’d taken from the bedside table–a black silk tie Before I could process what was happening, he began binding my wrists together.
“Stay still,” he commanded as I instinctively struggled.
With practiced efficiency, he secured my bound wrists to the ornate headboard, leaving me helpless beneath him. My heart hammered against my ribs, panic rising in my throat.
“Now kiss me,” he ordered, his face hovering inches from mine.
I turned my head away, the position impossibly vulnerable. “I can’t…”
Is this fun for both of us or just for him? I wondered desperately, testing the bindings tha held me captive. They were secure but not painful–small comfort in my current situation
Without warning, Kaius captured my chin between his fingers, turning my face back to his. The kiss, when it came, wasn’t the brutal claiming I’d expected. Instead, his lips moved against mine with expert precision, coaxing rather than demanding.
Despite myself, a small sound escaped me–not quite a moan, but close enough to make my cheeks burn with shame. I’d been kissed before, of course, by Dorian–but never like this. Never with this focused intensity, as if the kiss itself was the goal rather than a step toward something else.
My inexperience must have been obvious. I wondered if he found it pathetic, this response to something so basic. Yet I couldn’t stop the heat that spread through me,
Bargaining with Pleasure
couldn’t control the way my body arched slightly toward his.
What is wrong with me? Who gets turned on by a dangerous stranger who’s essentially holding them captive?
Apparently, I did. And I hated myself for it.
His hand moved to cup my breast, thumb
hardened. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasures across the peak that had already
intense I gasped against his mouth.
“That’s it, Elowen, he murmured, his lips moving to my neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin beneath my ear.
My breathing grew labored as his explorations continued, his touch expert and deliberate. Every nerve ending seemed to come alive under his ministrations, my body responding in ways I never had with Dorian.
“If it helps,” he whispered against my heated skin, “I am glad you accepted the proposal.”
His hand drifted lower, slipping beneath my thighs. He parted my vulva with two fingers, finding me already wet despite myself. His fingers slid inside easily, drawing more moisture as he stroked me from within.
I should have protested, should have maintained at least the pretense of resistance, but the words died in my throat as his fingers explored wantonly inside my cunt.
My hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of the exquisite sensation. My body responded with pleasure while my mind screamed no. I couldn’t control my reaction even though I hated myself for it.
Just as the tension inside me built toward some inevitable peak, his movements stopped. I opened eyes I hadn’t realized I’d closed to find him watching me with dark satisfaction.
“No,” I gasped, the word more plea than protest.
“I’ll not allow you to cum–that comes with a price,” he said, his voice a dangerous purr.
I writhed beneath him, desperate for the release he’d denied me. “Anything.” The word escaped before I could think, my body betraying me completely.
His smile was triumphant. “Do you promise to tell me what caused the miscarriage,
3/4
Elowen?”
Reality crashed back like a bucket of ice water. “That’s not fair,” I whispered, struggling to regain some control over my treacherous body.
“I never said I was playing fair. I bargain with what I have.”
“So you bargain with this?” I asked, my voice shaking with equal parts arousal and anger.
He shrugged, unapologetic. “This is what I know how to do.”
The fleeting authenticity in his voice caught me by surprise. I wondered what experiences had shaped this man, taught him to wield sexuality as a weapon for extracting information.
But the thought vanished as his fingers resumed their skillful torture, bringing me back to the edge before retreating again.
“Fuck it. Okay,” I capitulated, beyond caring about anything but the desperate need consuming me.
The smile that spread across his face was pure victory. His movements became more focused, more intense, driving me relentlessly toward a precipice I both feared and craved.
Pleasure overwhelmed me, stealing my breath and leaving me unable to think. My body strained against the restraints as I gave in to the release I’d been resisting.
I could feel my wetness increasing, slicking his fingers as they moved faster, harder. My breath came in short, sharp gasps. I was on the edge, clinging to his hand as my body started to shake. Then, it all exploded. My muscles clenched violently, my inner walls milking his fingers as wave after wave of orgasm pulsed through me.
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