Page 30 of Cross Me

“That’s what I thought,” she said with a sigh. Her fingers tilted my chin, leveling my gaze back to hers. “How many times do I have to tell you that I belong to you, X?”

“I know.”

“Then act like it,” she said. There was a desperate edge to her voice.

I needed to fix this. Back us up a step. Change the subject.

Before I could do any of those things, she grabbed my tie. “Maybe I should show you,” she suggested.

I reached up, loosening the knot, and helped her slide it free. “I’ve heard actions speak louder than words, Poppet.”

“Then I’ll show you,” she promised.

I couldn’t tear my eyes from her as she lifted her shirt over her head. Her swollen breasts and pert nipples strained against the thin lace of her bra. She unhooked it and they fell free heavily. She took her time with her jeans, making certain she had my full attention before she pushed them to the ground along with her panties. I savored the sight of her body, the full curve of her hips, the subtle swell where my child grew.

She took a step toward me, holding out her arms and crossing them at the wrists. “Let’s play.”

My tongue darted over my lips, imagining it was her I was tasting. She always understood exactly what I needed. She hadn’t offered her submission to me for weeks. In fact, she’d turned the tables on me. I craved it now more than ever. “Not planning to top me tonight?”

“Sometimes I need to remind you of your place,” she said simply. She held her breath as I wrapped my tie around her wrists, drawing in a sharp breath when I knotted it tightly. “Sometimes I need to show you mine.”

She lowered herself on to her knees turning her face up expectantly. “You are my King. You are my master. Everything I am belongs to you.”

I knew what it cost her to say this to me now, after she had fought so hard to prove she could be independent. But that was the point. She could be independent. She chose when and where and how to give me control.

Fuck, she was beautiful.

“What do you want?” My hand fisted in her hair, pulling it back to raise her face. I stepped closer to her, removing the distance between my body and hers. Clara tugged slightly against my hold and pressed soft lips to the bulge growing in my pants. My cock, which had been keeping track of our conversation with interest, hardened painfully. Clara continued to press soft kisses through the fabric. “Is that what you want, Poppet?”

She nodded, not abandoning her devotion.

I let go of her hair and reached down to undo my buckle. I drew my belt off slowly and allowed it to fall to the floor. There was a time when she would have tensed at the movement. A time when she remembered what that strap of leather felt like on her bare ass. Now, she didn’t so much as blink. She trusted me, but I couldn’t help wondering if I had earned that trust.

“Is this what you want?” I slid a hand past the waistband of my pants, adjusting my shaft against the restrictive clothing.

“Yes, please.” She licked her lips invitingly. Her hands were tied, but she tried to reach up and tug my pants away.

“Patience,” I told her as I shoved them past my hips. My cock sprang free and I caught it in my fist, running my hand down the length of it. I stepped back just far enough she couldn’t reach me.

“Who do you belong to?” I asked in a low voice.

“You.” She stopped trying to move closer. She seemed to understand the silent instruction I was giving her. If she belonged to me, then she had to trust me. I continued to jack myself off—just the thought of her watching and wanting— getting me off.

“X,” she whispered. “Together.”

And there it was, her plea to me. It called me back to her.

I moved toward her, but I was no longer interested in watching her kneel before me. Instead, I kicked off my shoes and shucked off my pants in the process. Leaning down, I lifted her onto her feet.

“Together,” I repeated, catching the shell of her ear in my teeth and nipping it. I captured her mouth, kissing her languidly, exploring with my tongue while our bodies pressed urgently toward one another. Her tied hands found my cock and gripped it possessively.

“Together or nothing at all,” I told her, pulling free from her. Hooking one finger around the tie that bound her wrists I led her to the sofa, urging her toward its rolled arm. She sat gracefully on its edge, her legs spreading in invitation.

“Christ, you’re perfect,” I growled at the sight of her naked cunt.

“X, please. I need to feel you.”

I grabbed her hips, kneading them roughly before I flipped her around. My hand moved protectively to her stomach, as I bent her over the sofa’s arm. The tip of my cock slid along her seam and she moaned, half frustration, half pleasure.