Page 23 of Plug and Tame

Sort of.

As for everything else…her hand drifted down to caress her inner thigh. She recalled the time she’d tried to seduce him by going down on him. She’d intended only to distract him for long enough to stab him, but he’d been one step ahead of her. He’d stolen her knife, and she’d ended up sucking his cock until he came in her mouth. And then he’d pleasured her. And he’d pleasured her many times since.

Kira clicked her tongue in frustration. She was getting turned on despite herself. After making sure her door was locked, she scooted back onto the bed so her back rested against the wall. The curtains were already closed, and in the safety of the semi-dark room, she slipped her fingers beneath her waistband. She was already wet, and she let out a soft murmur as she touched herself, remembering the way Nathaniel’s tongue had devoured her.

That was nothing compared to everything else she’d experienced with him. The steel plugs he’d made her wear…the water bowl he’d made her drink out of…the lesson he’d given her bent over his desk, his hand delivering sharp spanks as she read aloud at his insistence…forcing her to crawl on a leash…the heady feeling when he’d allowed her off of her leash so she could fetch for him…and, most notably, the rough way he’d fucked her ass in the jewellery shop, as if he were an alpha rutting her.

As if he were claiming her in the most wolfish, animalistic way possible.

Sex with him was degrading, rapturous, and unlike anything else she’d ever experienced, or would likely ever experience again. Turning on her side and nestling into the pillow comfortably, she let herself slip into a fantasy, her hand pumping slowly as she played with herself. Soon, she was pressing her face deeper into the pillow to muffle her moans, wishing it Nathaniel’s firm hand clamped over her mouth, or his cock down her throat moving in and out as he took his pleasure from her.

Fuck.

She wanted to relive those moments, and it forced her to be honest with herself about everything that had happened between them. She’d wanted him to do those things. It had been her choice, and that revelation turned everything she’d ever thought about him on its head.

Except for him claiming me.

That thought came as a small, self-righteous victory.

Nathaniel made the first move, not me. He was the one who started whatever this is between us.

But rather than be annoyed at that, a part of her felt glad, because it felt good to be wanted, and it felt good to be wanted by him.

Her fingers moved in and out, trying to reproduce what Nathaniel had made her feel, but it wasn’t the same as if he’d been here, his cock sliding into her. She let out another soft moan. He’d pushed the head of his cock into her, but never enough to break her hymen, and as she fingered and stroked herself, she found herself wishing he was here right now.

Her skin tingled at the hope that he would knock on her door right now. That he would enter her room, press her down on the bed, and sheathe himself inside her.

She wanted to feel the safety of his strong arms and the delicious bliss of relinquishing control as he ploughed into her. She wanted him to take her virginity, and if he’d been with her right now, she would have kissed him.

Because, as it turned out, she’d been both right and wrong about Nathaniel in the best way. He was dark, and twisted, and dominating. And, while he hid it well, he was also kind-hearted and respectable, and she wanted that in her life.

All of him.

Her insides ached as her fingers sped up, and her longing surged as she approached climax.

She was so close.

Sudden realisation doused her desire like frigid water poured over her head, and she sat up, her insides throbbing in protest as she removed her hand.

“Holy shit,” she breathed to the empty room. “I fucking love him.”

Chapter 8

The Locket

Kira

Kira retrieved the locket from the secret compartment in her desk. It was circular in shape and made of gold, with tiny rubies fanning across the surface like nine gleaming tendrils.

Like nine tails.

It hung on a gold chain, hinting at a past she couldn’t remember. The locket had an extra gold clasp whose function Kira had never been able to figure out…until now.

She reached up to trace the centre of her ruby collar. She’d forgotten all about the collar. Despite its tightness, it was not uncomfortable. The opposite—it was comforting.

Taking a deep breath, she went outside to where Byron was waiting for her, weeding his abandoned garden.

“Did you find it, Kira?” he asked, tossing the weeds aside and straightening.