Page 212 of Sapphire Scars


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A commitment that came from a lifetime of needing to belong. To belong to one person. Just one. Just me.

Another lash directly on my spine.

I went completely blind as all my heat soaked into my clit.

I hovered on the edge of an orgasm.

I panted and sweated, moaned and mewled.

All I wanted was for him to finish. To fill me. Instead, I clung to our play and forced, “Fuck you.”

“Such a filthy word from your pretty little mouth.”

“Get away from me.”

“Nope.” His heavy footsteps stepped into me. The prickle of his energy coated my entire back. “I have just the thing to tame that mouth of yours.”

My hovering orgasm teased.

If he touched me, I’d fall.

I held my breath and—

With brutal hands, he flipped me to face him.

My wrists uncrossed.

Our eyes locked.

And all our games fell away.

His gaze held no light, just pitch blackness. His lips thin, temples glittering with sweat. He’d stripped to his tight navy boxer-briefs, his erection popping out.

Whatever intensity we existed in lashed us together.

I felt him.

Heard him.

You’re perfect. His eyes glowed.

“You’re drenched,” his lips murmured.

I love you, his heart whispered.

“You’re going to pay.” His mouth smiled.

I strained for him to kiss me, but he dropped to his haunches, and with swift fingers, he buckled leather straps around my ankles. His touch felt like a million needles dipped in velvet.

I moaned and shivered. “Stop.”

He didn’t reply. Standing upright, he grabbed a lever to the left, and I screamed as the cross flipped upside down.

Blood rushed to my head as my view switched.

Upside down, gravity grabbed my hair, my breasts, my mind.

The shackles around my ankles kept me upright, cutting into my skin.

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