It’s exhilarating.

Both his touch, and the tale of how they rose to power. Creating a place for divine pleasures and allowing everyone to taste, for everyone to fall into their grasp to be controlled and their actions predicted so easily.

He lowers his lips to the crook of my neck, letting his warm breath be at odds with the chill that’s slowly melting at my core, being consumed with his criminal touch.

“I sell every addiction possible and I don’t have rules within those walls.” As he speaks, he pushes his fingers inside of me, dragging them against my front wall and bringing me closer and closer to the peak of an impending orgasm. I close my eyes tight, trying not to give in although I know it’s useless. My toes have curled and the pleasure builds inside of me so quickly like a raging storm, unstoppable and demanding its damage be done.

“Every corner of that place is defiled; every square inch has been touched by sin. That’s the kind of business I conduct in The Red Room.”

My neck arches as I give in to the need, a wave of pleasure rising from my belly outward, followed by another, a harsher, more severe wave crashing through me. I can’t move an inch as Jase grips my throat with his free hand and continues to torture me, fucking me with his fingers and drawing out every bit of my orgasm. I wish I could move. I want to get away from the third wave threatening to consume me, but I’m paralyzed as it rages through me.

Every nerve ending in my body ignites, my body shuddering and trembling as my release takes its time, wandering through my body and slowly dissipating. Jase removes his fingers carefully, and I gasp in pleasure as he circles my clit before bringing his fingers to his mouth.

My arousal shines on his fingers as he sucks it off, one by one. I can’t bring myself to look away when he groans in sheer delight.

Even as my heart races and adrenaline and excitement race through me, fear freezes my body when Jase picks up a knife from his bag. It’s only a pocket knife.

It’s just to get the ropes off, I tell myself. It’s amazing how the sight of it destroys the previous moment. I close my eyes, waiting to hear the sound of the blade sawing at the rope, but Jase doesn’t allow me to.

“I need your eyes open for this. You need to stay still and I don’t want the touch to startle you.” He sounds so calm and in control as he splays a hand on my chest. His elbow rests on my shoulder and pins me in place as my heart lurches inside of me, ready to escape.

My gaze begs him to explain, to stop, to reconsider whatever he’s doing as he brings the knife closer to me.

“It’s only to shave the small hairs from your body,” he says, answering my unspoken questions. “I won’t hurt you,” he tells me soothingly as the blade just barely touches my skin. He drags it slowly across my breast, all the way down my mound and then back up, avoiding my sensitive, swollen nub.

“Can I let you go?” he asks me, gently lifting his elbow. “Or are you going to move?”

I can only swallow, I can barely even comprehend what he’s saying since the panic is so alive within me.

“If you move, it will cut you,” he tells me.

“I’ll be still,” I whisper and as the blade lowers to my skin I consider the word, stop. So easy to say. I could say it; it’s right there, waiting to be spoken. But Jase drags the knife along my chest before I can utter it and then he kisses the sensitized skin. An open-mouth kiss that feels like everything. Like this is the way a kiss is meant to be, and every other way is wrong.

My head’s fuzzy and a haze clouds it as he scrapes the knife along my body, leaving a pink path occasionally, but his kisses and the ice make the evidence vanish.

It’s all overwhelming and agonizingly slow. By the time he gets to my pussy, I’m on the edge of another release. My impending orgasm is waiting for the knife, for his touch, for a kiss. But it doesn’t come.

After the longest time, my body feels his absence and I open my eyes. He pours ethanol onto a rag, then wipes down my body in one swift stroke and before I can say anything, a flame lights on a candle and he lowers it to the ethanol, lighting my skin ablaze.

The scream is trapped in the split second, but before its escape, his hand follows the path, quenching the heat and leaving me wide eyed and breathless.


Tags: W. Winters Books Irresistible Attraction Series Books Romance Books
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