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“Eleanor,” he rasped, but I ignored him.
He ripped my head back using my hair, demanding that I look at him. He pulled himself from my mouth, a string of saliva connecting us broke and dribbled down my chin.
“Hmm?” I responded in fake innocence as I raised my hand to wipe my mouth. Colton’s hand that was wrapped in my hair closed around the column of my throat as he lifted me to my feet. My breath hitched.
Colton spun me around, and my ass hit the edge of the table he’d been gripping a moment ago. Colton’s hands fell on either side of me as he leaned close, his voice dropping dangerously low. “Do you want to undress yourself, or should I do it for you?”
“I like seeing you work for it.”
He stood before me, his jeans hanging unbuttoned and low on his hips. There was a sliver of a V outline, pointing directly to his cock.
They made them different in Montana. I could get used to this.
Colton kept his eyes fixed on mine as he undid the button of my jeans, pulling them down just enough to put my pussy on display.
“As much as I’d love to see your whole body bare, I don’t have all day to worship you the way I’d like.” He twisted my body and threw me face down on the table. His body loomed over and he muttered against my ear—the hot breath sending shivers up my spine.
“I’m going to tie you up as punishment for making me do this stupid fucking video,” he growled, his voice low and laced with power. “But I’m not an animal so I’ll need to hear you agree, Miss Stewartt.”
My heart thudded in my chest, banging with fervor as it begged me to say yes. I glanced to my side—there sat the reins he’d been playing with earlier. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth as I thought of all the ways he would use them on me.
I nodded eagerly. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” His thumb came up to my bottom lip and pulled it away from my teeth.
“Yes, Mr. Stone.”
Colton grabbed the reins and pulled both of my hands behind my back. There was a quick crack, and a sharp pain snapped across my ass.
“Ouch, you asshole!” I yelled, wiggling under his tight grip. “You said tie me up, not fucking whip me.”
The fucker laughed and said, “Oops,” before he pulled back and let it crack softly against my skin.
Pleasure soared through me at the sting of pain. I’d never been whipped before, or tied up for that matter. Colton Stone was showing what it’s like to truly be fucked.
I wanted him to do it again, my mind instantly tried to find things to say to piss him off so he would.
“I’m so getting you back for this.”
Whip.
“Do you understand how infuriating you are?”
Crack.
“Asshole.”
Smack.
“Do it again. I like it.”
Colton stopped and flipped me to my front. He held the long end of the reins and took a step back, pulling me off the table and walking me to a beam in the corner.
“Hands up,” he demanded, and before I could move voluntarily, he used the straps to lift my hands high around the beam. I was stuck, completely at his mercy, with no way to gain any control.
Yet, I felt safe because, slowly, I was learning the kind of man Colton Stone was—and he didn’t have a malicious bone in his body.
In a swift move, Colton removed his shirt and wrung it into a tight spiral.
