Page 67 of Ruthless King (Mount Trilogy 1)
The white dress now makes sense. I definitely feel like a sacrificial offering.
“Now I can eat that cunt in peace, and you can’t stop me.”
“If this is the part where you torture me with orgasms, I’m okay with that.”
As soon as the admission is out, part of me wants to snatch it back, but something about it also fills me with power. Like on some level, I’m allowing Mount this privilege. Maybe my mind is well and truly fucked, because the smile that crosses his face, smug yet secretive, only makes me want him to return to his interrupted task faster.
He shakes his head slowly from side to side like he doesn’t know what to make of me, and that reinforces the shreds of power I’m grappling to hold on to.
When he crouches between my legs again, circling my clit with one thick fingertip, I writhe, bucking my hips up to increase the pressure, determined to control the situation as much as I can from my position. I may be bound, but I don’t feel helpless anymore.
Mount sucks my clit between his teeth and bites down just hard enough to send a jolt of desire laced with a hint of pain through my body.
When he releases his teeth, a slight sting remains, but it’s not pain. It’s . . . more complicated than that. If he keeps doing it, I’m going to come in the next sixty seconds.
He tongues my entrance before licking up to my clit and nipping it again, and I moan, my head thrashing from side to side. Protests fall from my lips as his mouth recedes and he circles my clit with a fingertip again.
“You love that. The bite of pain with your pleasure. The pressure on your clit constantly taking you to the edge. What if I could keep you on that edge all the time? Ready to come at a moment’s notice?”
I swallow, wondering where his diabolical mind is going. “What are you talking about?”
“An experiment.” He reaches around the side of the desk and pulls out a package. I lift my head as much as I can with my arms in their bound position to see what he’s doing. I see a flash of silver.
“What is that?”
“You’ll see. Or feel, rather.”
Cold metal drags across my heated center, and I know exactly what he has—some kind of clamp.
“Let’s see how you like this.” He closes it lightly over my swollen clit, sending my spine arching off the desk again.
As quickly as the pressure came, it dissipates.
I want it back. Magnolia told me there’s no shame if we’re both willing, and as messed up as this is, I want more of what he’s giving me.
“I could make you wear a clamp twenty-four hours a day to remind you not to disobey, but that’s not safe or healthy.”
Those are the last words I expect to hear come out of his mouth, and I have no response. But when he stands and the pressure returns again, I’m edging toward an orgasm. He lets off once more.
“But there is another option, one I think you’d fucking love. And I know I will.”
I don’t know what he’s talking about, but I’m so close to the edge, I’m mindless with need. “Please—”
“You want to come?”
“Yes!”
“Then tell me you’ll pierce that sweet little hood so the jewelry rubs your clit with your every movement, keeping you wet and ready for me.”
His words penetrate the lust-filled haze in my head, dragging me back to reality.
“What?”
“A hood piercing. It’ll heighten your every sensation. Some women even claim it causes spontaneous orgasms.”
My mouth falls open, but not because of shock like he probably assumes.
How does he infiltrate my thoughts?
