Arrogant Playboy(209)

I’M GETTING TIRED. ARE WE STILL ON FOR TONIGHT?

The phone rests face down on my chest as I wait for his response and return to the pages of my magazine and learn about moves and positions I never knew were possible.

My phone buzzes, though it may as well send an electric shock straight through to my heart.

YOU SOUND IMPATIENT.

I smile and fire one back.

IMPATIENT. NEEDY. DESPERATE. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?

He replies ten seconds later.

MORE THAN YOU COULD POSSIBLY KNOW.

I zip a quick “What are you waiting for?” back and wait. A moment later, something begins to vibrate, but it’s not my phone. It sounds muffled. Distant.

Oh, yeah.

It’s under my bed.

I fly off, practically landing on my knees and yanking out boxes until I get to the one containing my happy little friend, but by the time I pull it out, it stops vibrating.

I fire off a text.

THAT’S NOT FAIR. YOU DIDN’T TELL ME TO START YET.

My phone lights up. He’s calling.

He never calls.

He knows not to.

I press the green ‘answer’ button and duck under two blankets and a pillow.

“Why are you calling?” I whisper.

“To see if you’d answer.”

“You know I can’t talk,” I whisper again.

“Fine. Don’t talk. But I want to listen so I can be sure.”

“Sure about what?”

“That you don’t come without permission.”

“You don’t trust me yet, do you?” I roll to my side and slip the c-shaped toy between my folds and slip the tip inside. I could release myself right now if I tried. Everything he’s done to me all week has stacked up, layers upon layers, building with an unbearable intensity.

“Of course not,” he replies. “Are you ready?”

“Yes, Master.” I giggle and then clamp my hand over my mouth. If anyone catches me, I’ll be a dead woman. Thick, cherry heat warms my cheeks at the mere thought of getting caught. I whisper, “I’m not talking again after this. I can’t, Dane. I really can’t.”

“Quiet,” he purrs. The gadget vibrates on low, slowly teasing me. A quick pulse on high is all I get before it simmers back down again. “Did you like that, Angel?”

I don’t answer. I don’t need to.

He ramps it up higher. Two seconds. Then it stops completely.

My lower back arches, bucking against the nothingness I wish so desperately was something substantial. I’m positive if I humped my sheets right now I’d come.

“Here we go, Bellamy.” His low voice tickles my eardrum through the phone and lights my nerve-endings on fire. The device buzzes inside me, steady, constant, just enough but not nearly enough at the same time.

I want more.

I need more.

The gadget makes a soft buzzing sound under my blankets. The wall behind me is the bathroom and the wall in front of me is my parents’ room. My desperation temporarily renders the fear of getting caught null and void.

My legs part, separating wide and grinding against thin air. I offer him not a single moan, and I fight each and every whimper. All he gets to hear is my breathing, which I’m quite sure he’s using to gauge how close I am. Knowing Dane, he wants to take me to that place just before the edge and then bring me right back just as tortured and unsatisfied as I was when we started.

The bottom of my tongue slides across my lower lip as the build-up intensifies. If he doesn’t stop soon, I don’t know if I’ll be able to control this…

Dane blows a satisfied breath into the phone. “And we’re done now. Goodnight, Bellamy.”

The device stops cold, and the call ends.

I can’t take another day of this. It ends tomorrow. No more edge play.

I’m desperate to come, and I’ll do whatever it takes.





TWENTY-THREE




DANE



“Sleep well last night?” I bump into Bellamy outside the elevator bay Friday morning.

“You’re cruel.”

She pushes past me, hoisting her bag over her shoulder, but I take her by the wrist and pull her back. It’s early yet. We’re the only ones here.

“You’re brave to speak to me in that tone. You’re lucky I don’t take you over my knee right here.”

I pull her into me, locking her into a hold.

And then everything changes.

She’s smiling.

Wearing the stupid grin of a happy girl with sparkling eyes and looking at me like I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to her. I release her, and her pretty beam fades.

“Have I redeemed myself yet?” Her blue eyes widen, and she tugs her lower lip between her teeth.

She needs that sweet release, the one I’ve been withholding all week. Her body begs for it as she wriggles before me, hardly able to contain her fidgeting in my presence. I’m staring at the human version of a cat in heat, and I’m the only one who can help her.