“Put your finger out,” he repeated, then smirked when I did just that on automatic. “You are excited by the exotic and terrified by it in turns. I think you need to be eased into things that are new.”
“But I…”
I was about to babble something out, some excuse or explanation, but he just stared at me, taking my hand in his, then setting those small metal jaws around my finger, the spongy silicone on one side and the cool metal on the other stopping my words. Tobias watched me intently as he tightened it slightly, catching the sharp intake of my breath, then the more rapid heave of my chest. He was right—thinking about it and feeling it were two different things.
The clasp of the clamp felt hard and unrelenting, not painful, but insistent. So how would that feel somewhere much more tender? Nipple play was a weird thing. Soft caresses could be this vague, frictionless thing I barely felt, or… Sometimes, when his fingers pinched down or gave them a tug, the pain flared but so did the pleasure, the two things melding into one confusing tumble that made my clit twitch. Tobias smiled then, removing the clamp.
“Now, what I’d like to do is caress those fucking beautiful breasts, make your skin come alight, then tease those impudent nipples that press through your shirt at inopportune times, making my cock turn to iron. Once they’re standing proud, I’ll apply one of these, just enough to see how you feel about the sensation. We’ll stop, and I’ll check in with you. What do you say?”
“Yes.”
Before, all I could see, feel was my fear and anxiety, but now? I could see what Scar had meant about the psychological element, because right now, I trusted Tobias. He sounded so in control, like he knew exactly how good this would be, if I would just say yes, so I did. My heart was in my throat, so much so I jumped the first time he touched me. His hand stayed where it was, his eyes on me until my breath evened out and I nodded for him to continue, but then he seemed to go into a trance of his own.
Had any man paid this much attention to my breasts? There was something slowed down, drawn out, and timeless about this. His fingers moved slowly over the swollen mounds, making my teeth lock down, as I wanted to demand he hurry things up. Right now, I was in—all the way in. His touch was gentle, reverent, just tracing the outlines of my body to remind me of its shape, of the nerve endings that lurked under the surface, waiting for him to wake them up.
And he did. Right now, it was a spidery tracery of sensation, just light brushes making me exquisitely aware of what he was doing and what he wasn’t. His knuckles brushed against one nipple, making me gasp and moan my encouragement of that, knowing now just how good it would be when his fingers pinched down there, perhaps something amplified by those gleaming metal clamps. His hands moved away, though, his grin spreading as I let out a little huff of frustration. Stroking, stroking, he turned what was my insensate body into a quivering mass of feeling.
Which was what he had planned all along, I was willing to bet.
“Tobias…”
“Yes, my mate.”
“Tobias, I’m…” He stopped then, which forced a frustrated little groan out of me. “I’m ready.” I looked meaningfully at him, but he just smiled.
“Not yet.” Any sound I made seemed to just please him more, but as his hands moved, tracing narrower and narrower circles around my nipples, I forced myself to breathe and keep on breathing. Scar had said that changes in breathing patterns could create some disorientating sensations, and I didn’t want that.
Just this.
Both sets of hands traced the shape of my nipples, the fingertips too soft as they slid to the aching points, then off again. He came back, though, doing the same thing over and over, like he was drawing them out, hard and aching, before he stepped closer.
When his arm went around my waist, when he tugged me to the edge of the podium, my bare skin pressed into the fine wool of his suit. His mouth dropped down, not playing anymore as his hand closed around one breast, holding it hard as his wet lips slicked over it, then they parted and sucked me in. I cried out, just a spontaneous reaction at first, then a steady stream of jumbled encouragement. More, that was what it boiled down essentially. Fucking more.
His tongue pressed my nipple hard against the roof of his mouth, drawing out perilous strands of sensation, as his fangs dimpled the soft flesh of my breast, forcing me to acknowledge the animal that lurked within him. Except one lived inside me, and I was willing to bet her eyes burned sliver when he pulled away, glancing at my face for a moment before ducking in closer, then slanting his mouth across mine, taking it, claiming it. His fingers, they worked as hard as his mouth did, discovering me and my responses, sucking them down, until he finally pulled away.
“A little pinch, that’s all it should be right now. Any more than that, and you tell me right away. Yes, Sage?” I nodded. “Need your words, omega. Tell me.”
“Little pinch.” I panted. “More than that, and I say. Please, Tobias.”
“You plead so prettily.”
I got one more kiss before he pulled away and then went to work. One nipple was pinched out to maximum tightness, and then I felt a whole lot—hard, metal, with no give in it, not like fingers. Even with those silicon pads, it would be harder than that, I knew instantly. I sucked in a breath as he began to tighten it, his eyes utterly trained on me as he worked. No more than a little pinch, just as he’d said, but…
Part of me wanted to disobey, to be a naughty little omega and let him tighten it a little more. So a little pinch became a big one, knowing what that would do. The pain and the pleasure would ratchet up exponentially, creating this thick, swollen feeling that would suffuse my whole body, and each time he tugged—
“That’s enough I think.”
“No, no, more.”
“No more. You’ll find out these things have a bigger bite when I take them off. All your blood will rush back, and you’ll be sore.”
“Mm…” I murmured, not sure whether that would be a bad thing or a good thing.
He let out a hiss of breath and then went to work on the other side, and then it was done—I was clamped. He wasn’t even touching me, but I felt…so much sensation. Each time my chest moved as I breathed, the swaying provoked more and more sensation, something he noted with a nod.
“Fuck, you look beautiful.”
His voice was a ragged groan, grabbing at my attention. He studied my body, watching the way I leaned towards him, before moving and picking something else up. A thin chain, it had small clamps on the end. “You want more pressure, but this might help you see.”