"Are you up for the other?" he asked, watching me carefully. Even in this dangerous mood, I still saw concern.
I took a deep breath and nodded.
He changed his gloves before he gave my right breast the same treatment, quickly and with consummate skill. He tended to both breasts, carefully cleaning and icing them. The aftercare took much longer than the actual piercing had.
When he was done, he took off his gloves and unfastened me, picking me up and carrying me directly to the bed.
He laid me on my back, his hand moving between my legs to push one finger into me.
I glared at him.
He laughed. It was a cold laugh. My tender-lover was still very much missing, even with those little glimpses of concern I'd seen from him as he'd tended to me.
"Now, now, Love. Looking at me like that can get you punished, as well. Don't think that it can't get worse than a sore ass, some pierced nipples, and one day without an orgasm."
Very deliberately, I shut my eyes and turned my head away, defiant of what I knew he wanted from me. I was pissed.
He just laughed that merciless laugh. "Okay, have it your way. I was going to leave you alone, but this is certainly more fun for me."
He pushed me flat onto my back, and tied me spread-eagle to the bed. I kept my eyes shut tight.
He crawled between my legs and gripped my chin, very careful to avoid brushing against my tender breasts.
"Look at me. Now," he growled.
I hesitated, but finally looked at him. I swallowed hard then moaned loudly as he lined himself up at my entrance, ramming in to the hilt.
"Don't fucking come," he told me, jamming himself into me once, twice, three times. He came with that delicious groan of his, just shy of making me lose my mind.
"Very good, Love," he murmured as he pulled out of me, his thick length still twitching.
He unfastened my feet, but only one of my wrists. This he left tied, but with a lot of slack. He curled naked against my back, burying his face into my neck. I arranged myself carefully, shifting to avoid brushing my breasts against my arms or the bed.
"Are you afraid I'll try to run away? Is that why I'm still tied?" I asked him, since he'd never done this before. Something was seriously off.
"Yes," he said succinctly. "No more questions right now."
I tried to roll away, but he held me fast. He pressed hard against me. His cock was semi-hard against the back of my thigh. "Relax. All you have to do now is fall asleep. When you wake up again, your punishment will be over."
That was much easier said than done. I was agitated, confused and mad as hell, and the fact that James was soon sleeping heavily and peacefully against my back was no help at all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Mr. Manipulative
STEPHAN
I'd been woken up after only a thirty minute nap, but I still knew I wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep. And I couldn't leave her here alone, though I knew not to try to interfere again.
So I stayed. I ate and played video games, texted Javier a lot, and worried. I didn't like to be a worrier, but where Bianca was concerned, I just couldn't help it. If she was okay, I was okay, and if she wasn't …
I remembered the first time I'd seen her. She'd been wearing baggy jeans, and a hoody that covered most of her hair, but she hadn't been able to disguise the fact that she was breathtakingly beautiful, with clean features and a perfect complexion.
We'd been at a homeless shelter, but neither of us had lingered. At our age, if you stayed around people that wanted to help you for too long, it was inevitable that they would try to help you find your parents. It was always a good-natured intention, but almost insulting in its way. As though we'd have been living on the streets if we had any other acceptable choice … But even that was unfair, I knew. Some of the lost kids weren't really lost. Sometimes they were mad, or trying to worry their parents, or even just trying to prove a point that they didn't need anybody.
I knew at a glance that she wasn't one of those. Yes, she had a proud tilt to her delicate chin, but she was no spoiled brat. She was like me. She had nowhere to go. She was truly lost.
I had followed her, keeping my distance, instinctively wanting to make sure she was safe. If she was like me, perhaps we could help each other. She looked about my age. Maybe we could keep each other company. The thought gave me a pathetic amount of hope.
I stayed far away, just observing, but it wasn't long before I saw the old man stalking her.
I knew where she was headed. There was a warehouse not far away. It was a popular spot for squatters. None but the homeless were interested in the place. I trailed them there.