It was happening.
He was making me his plaything.
Damien focused, following through on his threat. He yanked my wrists together with force and tugged tight, binding them behind my back.
Leaving me vulnerable.
“That’s a clavis around your neck,” he said, leaning close to my ear. “Let’s see if you know its meaning.”
My focus shifted from tying Pandora’s wrists to admiring the way she calmly breathed through the process of having her hands bound behind her back.
She was letting it happen.
Her promising reaction caused an erotic charge to surge through my veins—awakening a need in the darkest part of my psyche. I felt a spark of affection flare inside me, lowering my guard, allowing me to see her in a new way.
This wasn’t the girl I thought I knew.
She glanced back over her shoulder at me, her plump lips pouting.
“Are you even still a virgin?” I chided.
The look on her face led me to believe she might be. Still, what kind of virgin wears the clavis, the mark of a submissive? Either way, the symbol riled my diabolical side, which she was about to become acquainted with. I’d hidden that part of myself from her, assuming she’d never see me like this—now I felt hope rising for a relationship between us I’d believed impossible.
How the hell had she ended up wearing this key?
I could be over thinking the situation, but Theo had been wondering the same thing—who the hell had given it to her?
With her hands tied at her lower spine, Pandora was forced to push her chest forward and keep her back straight—the glint of diamonds at her throat assuring me of her willingness to comply with utter submission.
What she’d done was the equivalent of setting a match to gasoline and watching the flames fan around her. She gave her consent the moment the catch closed at her nape.
Her vulnerability was stirring my debauchery; it flared white hot and blinding.
It would be easy to do whatever I wanted to her in the back of this car as retribution for daring to wear what she had no right to.
Vanguardians…owning a submissive was our veritable right.
“I want this,” she whispered.
Really?
You dare to tease me? After I’ve bound your fucking wrists.
What was meant to follow was me diving deep into my proclivity, forgetting what day or even month it was within minutes. A surge of arousal heated my flesh and caused my dick to ache for this. I wanted Pandora to need this just as much, for her offering to be real.
That pendant could unlock her hidden desires.
I’d devour them as my own.
Be the fucking adult here and shut this down.
Or, something altogether different—strike with retaliation for her haughtiness to think she could pull this off and I’d fall for it.
Because she had dared to tease me, I placed my palm at her throat, squeezing her neck tight for the delicious entertainment of it. Fear flooded her eyes—a gift from a submissive to her master.
Could this be us?
Could we make this work?
No.
Right now, it was imperative I see through her scheming and scare her off. There’d be no compromise. In reality, she’d never agree to my demands. Lesser submissives had crumbled under my sway.
She was no different.
Finding a woman I loved who would succumb to my needs was an ambition I had yet to realize. She’d need to publicly shine like a goddess and in the bedroom shimmer under my complete dominance.
My hand slipped from her throat and she sucked in oxygen, gulping hungrily.
Cue her screaming…
I watched her face closely, waiting for the hysteria, bracing myself for a torrent of curses being flung my way. Maybe she’d realize she was close to drowning in the deep, dark ocean of my lust.
Her breathing slowed as she assessed me with her crystal blue eyes, her gaze roaming over me and settling on my erection.
“You have my attention,” I said gruffly. “Do I have yours?”
“Yes, sir.”
I taunted her with a sneer. Nice try, but not convinced.
“Show me what happens now,” she whispered.
“You mean if that necklace stays on?” I reached for the catch at her nape. “Which it won’t.”
She shifted away a little. “No.”
“If you keep it on, I will punish you for wearing it.”
A shade of doubt clouded her eyes, but then she lifted her chin. “I deserve it.”
Very well…
I eased the straps of her gown off her shoulders and pulled the bodice down, along with her bra, until her breasts were bared. “I’ll start here.”
I pinched her nipples to punish her, taking my adrenaline-soaked arousal out on those beaded buds until they responded to my twisting.
“Oh, please,” she said, gasping.
So many ideas flashed through my filthy mind about how I could abuse her, get off on having her subjugated before me.
Pandora let out a long groan inviting more punishment, her wrists twisting to escape as she writhed before me, her hips rocking on the leather seat as though imagining how it would feel to ride me.
I massaged her breasts with the authority of a man who knew how to wield bliss, and was rewarded with her throaty, needy cry in response. The erotic sound caused my cock to harden even more.
My hands moved beneath her hem and past her panties, my thumb rubbing her clit to prepare her for finger-fucking.
Think.
And not with your balls.
If she was a virgin and this was a ruse, fucking her in the back of a car could traumatize her.
I wasn’t that kind of monster.
But she thought I was…
I pulled my fingers away from her and brought them up to her mouth, letting her lick her own juices.
“Show me what you like,” she whispered.
Having a sub wear this emblem was a rare and beautiful accomplishment. It was possible, but only the highly trained and well-prepared lovers endured what their masters demanded. It didn’t make sense that she was wearing the necklace.
I tried to flood doubt out of my thoughts, leaning in and drawing a pert nipple into my mouth and suckling, letting the way my tongue formed sensual circles around her areola serve as a precursor to more.
Six months of not having this, of dating Pandora and remaining loyal, because that was the only way my heart had navigated around what we were. Here, now, my soul was rejoicing that my sexual starvation was over.
If only she knew what I was capable of. The gifts I yearned to give her if I kept her as a toy. If I allowed myself the privilege of believing she wanted this, wrecking Pandora was going to be the grandest gift I gave myself.
Because she was Pandora Aria Bardot—the most exquisite sub a man could own.
“It’s not enough,” she begged.
I freed her hands from my necktie. “Patience.”
Pandora’s natural beauty felt like a trick of nature. She seduced with her presence, her exquisite blue eyes promising mystery. The way her tongue darted to wet her lips was a thing of beauty and dangerously arousing—she’d be exquisite to watch when coming with my dick inside her. Her awe of being subjugated would be equivalent to modern art.
Lifting her gown, I pulled her thong down her legs and off her feet, shoving it in my jacket pocket. She knew my next command was imminent. All the power she had left would soon be gone.