She inches forward, trying to make contact with my mouth, but I don't let her, which only frustrates her more.
I continue manipulating her body, quickly taking her to the edge, then pulling back when she's about to come, reprimanding her when she doesn't call me Sir or cries out without permission to speak.
Exhaustion wears on her face. Her body's a wet, quivering mess, but I'm just getting started. I slide my face between her thighs and taste what I've craved for years.
My tongue hits her pussy, and she lifts her hips in the air, whimpering. I take my time, slowly torturing her, licking and sucking her until she's sobbing and begging me to let her come.
It adds fuel to the fire raging inside me. I scold, "You have to learn, pet."
"Please! Riggs! I-I can't do this," she claims.
"Don't you dare come. You can do anything you want," I insist, then suck her while flicking my tongue on her clit, retreating when quivers overpower her.
I'm insatiable for her and the power she's agreed to give me over her. My cock turns hard again. I cage my frame over hers, gliding my hands through her hair, holding her face in front of mine, and thrusting inside her once again.
"Riggs, please!" she pleads.
I ignore her, kiss the curve of her neck, slowly thrust, and murmur, "You don't like me inside you, pet?"
Tiny moans fly out of her.
I bring my mouth closer, and she sticks her tongue out, grazing my bottom lip. I retreat out of her reach.
Her eyelids flutter. She whispers, "Why won't you kiss me?"
I'm so damn tempted, but I resist, ignoring her question. I pound into her until her walls clamp over me, then I pull out of her, coming on her stomach and growling, "I said not to come."
Both of us are breathing hard in the aftermath, challenging each other with our pinned gazes and a thousand thoughts plaguing us. I leave her restrained, shower, then bring a washcloth to the bed. I sit next to her and wipe my fluid off her stomach.
She doesn't look at me, and I love it and hate it at the same time. It's another way I know I'm in over my head. I'm on my way to breaking her. There should be nothing but adrenaline pounding through me right now. But for the first time ever, I do something I shouldn't.
I release her from the cuffs, tug her into my arms, and stroke her hair.
Within seconds, she begins to sob. It's a win for me, yet nothing feels further from it. Guilt eats at me. I pushed her too far, too soon. A good cry after what I put her through would be normal, but I rushed things, unable to control my demons.
"Shh. Everything is okay, pet," I calmly state. I tighten my hold around her, kissing the top of her head while her hot tears run down my chest.
She eventually quiets, the only sound being her choked-up breaths. She slowly lifts her head, locking her wet blues on mine. The tension rebuilds, and she reaches for my cheek, then tries to kiss me.
Everything crashes around me. I flip her on her side, turn away from her, and order, "Go to sleep, Blakely."
"Why won't you kiss me?" she asks in a desperate voice again.
"I said go to sleep," I repeat in a firm tone.
It's a long time until I can tell she's asleep. I never fall prey to it, and when the darkness turns to dusk, I sneak out of the room and go outside. I suit up for the waves and take my board down to the surf.
It's rougher than normal, and I spend the sunrise fighting the waves, unable to shake the look Blakely gave me. I crossed too many lines last night. I'm in new territory and need to get a grip on it before I do something I can't erase.
A wave swells, and I ride it halfway in before it violently throws me into the salty water. I fight the current and finally make it to shore, still feeling as off keel as when I first stepped foot in the tow.
I sit on the sand for at least an hour, vowing to be better and get things on track. I have to slow down. If I don't, it could backfire on me.
I make my way to the house, feeling more confident I can change the course of our arrangement. After all, Blakely doesn't know what she doesn't know. Everything is new to her. Today is a new day, and I'll back down a bit.
I strip out of my wetsuit and step under the shower. I finish rinsing my hair and open my eyes.
Blakely stands in front of me in nothing but her collar. Her expression tells me she's not okay. Emptiness fills her usually sparkling eyes.