“Make me come,” I demand with what little power I have spread out and chained to a bed.
“Tell me you love me, too.”
My breaths rush past my lips. I can’t do that. I’m too vulnerable to make that decision, to confess my heart could only be this broken because I gave him the power to hurt me by handing that stupid muscle over in the first place.
“Tell me you forgive me at least,” he pleads, his voice broken and full of unspoken emotion.
I focus my eyes on the ceiling, only blinking when they become full of my tears.
Chapter 35
Wren
I knew walking out of here with a broken heart was always a possibility.
I knew that my fuckups could be what ruined my life.
If she tells me to eat dirt, I can’t really blame her.
I broke her trust.
Lies of omission are still lies.
And she’s right. I did go after her online. I did put myself in the position for her to help me on that game. I did strike up conversation and flirt with her knowing exactly who she was.
But who wouldn’t jump at the opportunity to get to know the love of their life better? I didn’t know I was head over heels for her until those words came from my lips, but the minute they were out, I felt them soul deep, and I know no matter what her response is, I’ll feel this way for the rest of my life whether she’s in my arms or not.
“Liars are a hard limit for me,” she whispers, her words broken but filled with determination.
My heart cracks a little more, and I pull my mouth from her skin.
“I’ll never utter another lie to you,” I vow, even though I doubt it will make any damn difference.
She lifts her head, seeking my eyes.
“I swear, baby. Never again.”
“Make me come.”
I search her face, looking for the anger I heard in her words earlier, but they merely glisten with her tears and need.
“Am I forgiven?”
Time slows to a stop, the seconds taking a year a piece as I wait.
She nods once, blinking another tear down her cheek, and I want to whoop for joy. I want to scream the roof down that she won’t hate me forever. I know it’s not an offer for everything I want from her, but it’s the first step. If she forgives me, it means she doesn’t hate me, and that’s something I can build on.
“I need to hear the words, angel.”
“Forgiven,” she whispers. “I forgive you.”
The first strike of my mouth lands just above her clit, and the second hits pay dirt. Her moan of pleasure is a symphony composed by angels. She writhes against my mouth, coming faster than I ever thought possible, but ending this now isn’t possible, so I’m relentless. I suck her swollen clit in my mouth, pressing fingers against her clenching core, relishing the response of her body to mine.
I’m fucking filthy, the dirtiest person I know using her body against her, but I knew while she was stuck in her head, we’d spend days or even weeks before she came to her senses. She never opened her mouth once to tell me it was too much, to whisper or even yell her safeword. And that tells me she wants and needs me as much as I do her. We’re perfect for each other, something I’ve known all along, and after tonight, I hope she understands as well.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” she chants, her arms struggling against the chains as she comes over and over on my tongue.
Fuck, if it were possible to drink from her like this for the rest of my life, I’d live on only the things her body had to offer.
I want to dive in. I want to slide my cock through the slickness of her releases, and impale her on my cock, but she’s whimpering, her cries of ecstasy quickly turning into sobs.
I move as fast as possible, releasing first her legs then her arms from the restraints and drag her to my chest. She settles against me, the warmth of her body on my lap a balm to my injured soul.
“Baby.” I push damp hair from her eyes, but she buries her head in my chest. “Tell me why you’re crying.”
It’s a plea, because dominance and demands have no place in this moment right now. Aftercare isn’t about power, and only assholes try to transform it into such.
“I hated that I had to walk away,” she sobs, her fingers digging into my shirt as if she’s afraid I’m going to walk away from her. “You understand that, right?”
I knew she walked away. I’ve been burning with her absence the last two days. “I do. I’m also glad you gave me the chance to explain my position in all of this.”
She huffs, the derision clear in the sound. “Gave you a chance? You tied me to the bed.”
I smile against her head at the lightness in her tone. “You never used your safeword.”
With the crook of one finger, I lift her head so I can see her pretty eyes. I wipe tears away with my thumbs as she blinks up at me. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Whitney Nelson. Do you want to leave?”
Her eyes search mine, looking for answers, but she won’t find an opinion as far as I’m concerned. My choice is her choice. Her pretty white teeth dig into her bottom lip, gathering all of my attention.
“No,” she whispers.
“Do you want to go to the bar for another drink?”
She shakes her head. “I’ve already had my allotted two.”
“Do you want to get dressed—”
“No.”
“—and wander around,” I continue after she answers. “Do you want to stay here and play?”
Her teeth find her bottom lip once again, and even though it’s clear what her answer is, I
