My movement drew his attention.
“Morning. I thought you were going to waste the whole day.”
I’d pulled the covers over me last night after he’d left, and I held them to me as I sat up. “I had a hard time falling asleep last night without your drugs.”
He set his coffee down on the floor, stood, and strolled casually toward the bed. His relaxed posture set me on edge. He’d clearly regrouped last night, whereas I’d fought to hold it together. I’d tried different combinations in a futile attempt to get free, starting of course with pi, but nothing worked on either lock. So after that, I’d shifted into seeing if I could break the bed frame to get free, which had also been futile. There was nothing within reach of the bed that would help me escape.
There wasn’t a clock in the room, but it was probably the middle of the night when I’d come to the realization that my best hope for freedom was to do exactly as Luka said. I’d quietly cried myself to sleep.
His hand covered the lock around the end of the leash and freed me. “Use the restroom and come right back.”
I did. I told myself I no longer cared about being naked. He’d seen me plenty by now. When I came back into the bedroom, he pointed to the bed. I lay down and said nothing. At least the choker last night gave me use of my hands and allowed me to sleep on my side if I wanted. He took the leash in a hand. It was slack and he was simply holding it, but I was incredibly aware of the control.
There was a loud ticking I picked up on then. A large, round alarm clock with hands on the face sat on the nightstand. Luka must have put it there when I was in the bathroom.
“This clock,” he said, “is going to help teach you.” He sat beside me and the mattress sank with his weight, causing me to roll into him. “When the second hand hits zero, you’ll watch it and count each second in your head.”
The thin hand ticked up the clock, heading toward the twelve. I studied it attentively as the new minute began. One. Two. Three.
I blinked and forced my mind not to wander as it ticked along. By fifty seconds it was a struggle. As it climbed back to one, Luka’s single word shattered my focus. “Again.”
One. Two. Three.
The exercise went on, three more rounds of it. Somewhere in minute five, he spoke. “Count out loud.”
“Thirty-six,” I said. “Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight.”
“Stop and look at me.” His face was stoic. “What is this lesson?”
I inhaled. “That my time is your time.”
He teased a smile. “So fucking smart.”
There was a sharp click as he snapped his fingers and I swallowed thickly. I hesitantly spread my legs open, ignoring the unease channeling through me. First, his gaze scored down my bare flesh. Over the tops of my breast, along my belly, and down to my hips where I was totally exposed. Then, his hands, even the one holding the end of the leash, followed the path of his gaze.
His hands were warm as he caressed me. His touch was gentle and almost loving, but I told myself I didn’t like this. I flinched when his fingers traced a line at the hollow where my leg met my body. It both tickled, and made the muscles low in my belly clench. I knew where this was going and a dark hunger growled in me.
Luka climbed onto the bed and settled his knees between my legs. He put his hands on the mattress on either side of my arms, and his mouth repeated the path. Warm, wet lips trailed over my breasts. One, then the other, and back again. I bit down on my bottom lip. I’m not enjoying this, I repeated in my head as a mantra, although my nipples tightened under the command of his mouth.
It became difficult to remain indifferent as he dropped a trail of kisses lower. And lower. His hot breath rolled over my skin, and I grew shamefully wet between my legs. I cursed my betraying body, and the indecent desire I had for him to finish his journey. Hell, I wanted his mouth on me. His hold on the leash was symbolic of his hold over me.
The clock continued to tick away over the sounds of Luka’s quiet kisses, and the occasional noise of him shifting over me, working lower. My pulse had quickened, speeding much faster than the slow ticks of the second hand.
When he was nestled between my thighs, he halted, teasing his lips just above my slit. His focus wasn’t on me. It was on the clock. “You’re going to come at exactly nine twenty-two. Not fifteen seconds before, and not ten seconds late. Perfectly at nine twenty-two.”