Page 91 of Pink Ink

I pause to look at him over my shoulder. One word crosses my mind:good.

The doubts are still there. No one has ever stayed or picked me first—not in the way that really counts. This could always be a game to him. Just a bit of fun with his student to pass the time. But I can’t let fear control me.

I keep walking until my fingers hover over the lock, and with a resounding echo that cracks through the room like thunder, it clicks into place.

“Knees.”

Three seconds is how long I give myself to accept fate. Slowly, I turn around, afraid that it’ll all vanish if I move too quickly. He watches me with the steady surety of a man who decided this moment was happening long before I did.

The air is heavy with tension and words unspoken. The room is charged with something volatile that could strike either of us with the slightest misstep. If I concentrate hard enough, I can hear his pulse beat as rapidly as mine.

I keep walking until there’s a foot of weighted space separating us. We stare at each other. Study each minute movement. Maddox reaches for me, skating his fingers along my jaw before tucking a lock of hair behind my ears. The touch feels like forbidden magic, and I’m at the whim of his spell.

“Knees, Reyna,” he repeats, voice a soft demand.

Another three seconds. I spend each one of them filling my lungs; then I do what fate intended.

My legs shake as I stare up at him, slowly lowering until the wooden floor digs into skin. Black devours all traces of green in his irises, and I can track every rise and fall of his chest.

Backlit by the afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows, he looks like he could be a deity of death and art with his dark clothing, blackened eyes, oozing dominance. Yet from down here, kneeling before him, I feel powerful.

There’s power in safety, being seen and untouchable, the centerpiece and every focal point.

My heart stalls as he circles me and pauses at my back. I sense him lowering to his haunches. Goose bumps pepper my skin as he reaches around me to loosen the buckles of my harness to leave my top bare for him.

The electrified air crackles along my exposed, tender breasts. Nerves and desire tighten my stomach. His hand brushes over my nipples as he draws the harness over my shoulders and fastens it in place. The leather feels like silk and sandpaper against my aching flesh.

My breaths stagger as his fingers skate over the back of my arm, sweeping my hair to the side to drag his lips over my shoulder and up the side of my neck, inhaling my scent and leaving a trail of delicate kisses in his wake. His hot breath caresses my skin as his fingers whisper along the underside of my breasts before splaying over my sternum.

“I apologize for putting you on the spot,” Maddox mutters against the place where my jaw meets my ear. A shiver rolls through me. “I wanted to hear your voice, love.”

“I dislike public speaking.” The words come out broken from his touch.

“Let me help you get used to it before you have a bigger audience.”

I nod. It’s the only thing I can get myself to do as I turn to watch him move back in front of me, putting his bulge in my eyeline. He removes his sweater and sets it down in front of my knees. Heat radiates through my core, part excitement and part… trepidation.

“Spread your legs apart.”

I blink hard to push aside my thoughts. An innate part of me wants to please him—impress him. He opens his mouth to repeat himself, and I scramble to do as he said. The floor catches on my tights before my knees find reprieve against the cashmere fabric that still harbors traces of his warmth.

His head tips as he drags an amused, scrutinizing gaze over my form. “Wider.”

I swallow down a retort, hesitating before complying. He chuckles, cradling the back of my skull, and lowers to reach beneath my skirt, dragging his fingers over my sex, touching and teasing, rubbing around where I want him until I’m panting and angling my hips to get what I need from him. Only then does he push my underwear to the side and slide a finger into my entrance.

Stars explode in my vision. I buckle forward, held upright by his grip threaded through my hair. He draws his finger out to add a second. My muscles spasm around him, and a violent shudder works through me when he rubs my clit with his thumb.

His next chuckle is almost mocking. “You might hate getting ordered around, but it makes your cunt fucking wet, doesn’t it?”

I curse him with my glare because damn him for being right. When I don’t answer, he leaves me empty to pinch the oversensitive flesh. I yelp, digging my nails into his covered forearms.

“Doesn’t it, Miss Sinaga?” Maddox’s stern voice makes me see red.

“Yes, sir,” I bite out, and the sadistic asshole tightens his grip in my hair and hovers his hand over my core. It’s like he’stryingto make me bratty.

He raises his brows. “Sir?”

I shrug. “It’s generic. Easy to remember.”