Because you can’t. You shouldn’t even be doing this.
I captured her nipple between my teeth and bit down hard.
“Oh,” she gasped as she jolted, trying to squirm away, but I soothed the tender skin with the flat of my tongue.
“Did that hurt?” I mumbled against the curve of her breast.
“A little,” she whispered.
“Can you handle it?”
She went stiff beneath me. “What?”
I nuzzled into her cleavage, rubbing the stubble on my chin against her skin. “Is that an acceptable amount of pain? I ask because your brain releases endorphins to counteract and dull pain.” I moved to focus on her other breast. “These are the same endorphins that can produce euphoria.”
Her swallow was so hard, it was audible, and she dragged in a heavy breath. “You wanted it to hurt, because you think it’ll help?”
“Precisely.” I used the tip of my tongue to spin a circle over her pebbled skin. “To make sure it triggers the release, I’ll need to do it again.” Several more times, if she was willing. I latched onto her nipple, sucked until my cheeks hollowed, and then released her from my mouth with a soft pop.
She licked her lips and blinked slowly, her eyes cloudy with desire. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I can handle it.”
Eagerness raced through my bloodstream, and I went to work. Her startled gasps mixed with whimpers as I toyed with her, doing my best to walk the fine line between discomfort and true pain. I wasn’t interested in hurting her, and I didn’t get off on tears or agony, but I understood how lower valleys lead to higher peaks.
I nipped at the top of her breast with perhaps too much force, because Sophia’s whimper changed its pitch, and my heart thudded like it was made of stone. “Too much?”
Her gaze darted away from mine, and every muscle in me went to full alert.
“Should I stop?” I asked with concern.
“No.” Her head turned back so she could look at me, and she threaded her hands into my hair. Why did she look embarrassed? “It kind of hurts but . . . I like it. It feels good.”
My heart restarted at twice its usual speed, and inside my pants, my demanding cock twitched. No, I said to myself in the strictest voice possible. There were thousands of other women in this world who made more sense for me than Sophia Alby. I had to finish tonight, and tomorrow I’d go find that woman.
They probably wouldn’t beat me in skeet or respond as perfectly to my dominance, but they wouldn’t destroy the last bit of reputation I had left. If I had to choose between my desire or my name, I’d choose my legacy.
No matter how much I wanted what I couldn’t have.
I snagged her skin between my teeth and coursed a hand down her stomach. She’d said the pain felt good, but the time had come to make her feel very, very good.
My fingers found her just as wet as she’d been after I’d spanked her, but her reaction was dramatically bigger this time. When I touched her, her back arched and she bowed up off the upholstery, letting loose a gasp that was filled with stunned pleasure.
“That feels good, doesn’t it?” My tone was dark and pleased.
“Yes,” she said breathlessly. Her hand slid down my forearm so she could wrap her fingers around my wrist, but not to stop me. She’d done it to ground herself to me, to know exactly what I was doing to her. How I was touching her.
I pressed the pads of my fingers against her swollen clit and rubbed them steadily back and forth, gradually increasing my speed. Her breath came and went in stuttering bursts, the beautifully erotic sound of it ringing in my ears. I planted a final kiss at the center of her chest then straightened so I was upright, sitting back on my legs folded beneath me.
She was perfectly bare and pink, even down to the two sparkling gems at either end of her piercing jewelry. I’d never cared for piercings in general, and so I had assumed one in such an intimate place would have been a turn-off, but I’d been incorrect.
I wanted to touch, and my tongue craved to trace over it.
I adjusted my hand so my fingers and palm lay across her lower abdomen and swiped my thumb over the metal barbell struck through the skin right above her clit. Sophia moaned, just loud enough to be heard over the pop and hiss of the fire in the fireplace, and more pressure built beneath my fly, pushing against my zipper.
My body needed to stop. My pants had come off once tonight, and that was already one time too many.
While my thumb teased and massaged, I ran the palm of my other hand up and down her legs. I wanted her to feel my presence everywhere, so I’d become inescapable, inevitable. I’d already hooked her. Now I had to focus on reeling her in, and then she would be mine.