Chapter 35

Ryker

I'm going to Hell.

I have no business being possessive over a Butterfly. She's a temporary catastrophe in my world, and when her time is up, I'm not sure what I'll do about it. There's no repairing the damage she's done.

Or that I'm about to do.

I meant what I said—she should have walked out of my door, out of my city, and out of my life. That she stayed confuses me. I think she's spoiling for a fight. I think what happened at brunch has royally fucked with her brain.

I might be wrong, but I believe Tara's never had a chance to be herself. The way she acted at brunch, her immediate responses and reactions to things. My girl was groomed somehow, I just don't know for what. It makes me murderous.

She's a people pleaser like me.

Today, she stuck up for herself and walked away from people who didn't deserve her. For that, I'm proud. But she's run into the arms of a monster, seeking comfort. And I'm terrified.

Because I plan to take advantage of it.

I really am a fucking bastard.

And now I have her crawling and begging.

She asked for this. I need to remind myself of that. She wanted me unleashed. She wanted me to let go and fuck her how I want.

This is it. She can call Red any time.

"What's your color, Tara?"

"Green."

I hate her humility. I bet Tara's had to be a lot of things to please others, or to stay on their good side.

I don't have a good side.

She can be anything she wants with me, and I'll fucking adore it.

"Good girl." I cup her chin so it stops quivering. Shoving my thumb into her mouth, I wait for her to close her lips around it. "That's it, baby. Suck." She draws me in. Her mouth is hot and soft, and I can't wait to fuck it.

Her teeth scrape my knuckle when I pull out and I know damn well she wants to bite me.

It makes my dick hard.

Walking backwards, I crook my finger. "Crawl to me again." She whimpers but obeys me. Her hair falls into her face as she follows me through the house, up the stairs, and into my playroom. Shoving the door open, I let her crawl in first. "What color are you?"

She's too busy gawking at my playroom to respond, so I snap my fingers loudly. "What color are you, Tara?"

"Green."

I believe her. The shame in her eyes has lifted substantially.

Squatting down, I make sure she's fully focused on me. "There's nothing wrong with being turned on by any of this."

"I… know."

Her tone says otherwise. I arch my brow. "Own what you like." I tip her chin. "I've crawled like a dog for you, too. And I'd do it again in a fucking heartbeat."

Her chest rises and falls with her heaving breaths.

Pressing my thumb on her bottom lip, I smear it, distorting her mouth a little. "First, punishment. Then reward." Walking over to my St. Andrew's cross, I cuff one of my wrists. Tara watches in silent confusion until I say, "Come over here, Butterfly." When she tries to stand, I quickly command, "On your hands and knees."

She crawls to me and waits at my feet.

Tara's so pretty when she's a puppy for my love. "Cuff my other hand."

She runs her hands up my legs, waist, and ribs until she reaches the cuff and buckles it around my waiting wrist. I didn't tell her she could touch me, but I'll let it slide. "What now, Sir?"

"You're going to be a good little slut and sit in front of me."

She sinks to the floor.

"Lift your dress."

Her brow furrows as she obeys. Spreading her legs wider, Tara rucks her flowery dress up to her hips.

"Take your underwear off."

She does.

"Now I want you to listen carefully." Her blue eyes lock onto mine. "You're going to crawl back to me, stuff those soaked panties into my mouth, and then sit back where you are and get yourself off. You're going to show me what I missed that first night, Butterfly, when I was a bastard who left you alone."

I should have never done that. Damage control be damned, I should have given Tara all of my energy and attention the instant she picked me. Fuck that. I should have given her my time and devotion the instant she caught my attention in the club months ago.

"Use anything you want to get off with. Make me pay for neglecting you."

She cocks her brow. "Anything I want?"

"Whatever I have is yours."

I just used humiliation to get her hot and bothered. Now I'm giving her all the power and confidence she needs to punish me and take her power back. The change in Tara is instant.

My girl shimmies out of her pretty red panties and crawls to me like a panther, not a wounded puppy. Keeping eye contact with me the entire time, she scrapes her nails along my thighs and chest, then viciously stuffs her underwear in my mouth. I think she might have split my damn lip.

Fucking hell, she's perfection.

Tara stands back and regards me like a painting. "I want your shirt unbuttoned," she says.

I nod, giving her consent.

"I want your pants off, too."

Swallowing around the silk in my mouth, I nod again.

I did say she could use whatever she wanted to get off with. If the sight of me naked does it for her, then I'm onboard with that.

I kick off my shoes, letting the cuffs take more of my weight in my arms as she tugs my pants off.

Tara's smile is ten kinds of wicked. Even with her mascara a little smeared from her tears earlier, this version of her is fiery as hell. I love it. To see a woman own her position of power. To watch her use it to get what she wants, what she needs?

Sign me the fuck up.

Tara's dignity was shredded earlier today. She likely hates me for some of the things I've said and done, too. But she trusts me and that speaks volumes about our connection. For better or worse, we're drawn together like two magnets. I don't want her feeling bad about what she likes. Nor do I want her confused by what it means. She just needs to know that there are levels of trust and submission, and kinks should be never shameful demons in our bed.

Tara sinks to her knees and spreads her legs just a few feet in front of me. Dragging her tongue along her middle finger, she flips me off while wetting it. "I wonder if Dmitri liked hearing me orgasm."

Jealousy has me immediately pulling on my chains. The instinct to attack what threatens me is so natural, I barely notice the way the way the St. Andrew's cross creaks from the tension I put on it. Damn Tara for shoving Dmitri in my face like this.

God, she's perfect.

"I so badly wanted to make you happy that night, Sir." Tara leans back with her legs spread to give me the perfect view of her cunt as she rubs her clit. "I ached for you."

My dick is so hard it hurts.

Nostrils flaring, I lean forward, desperate to smell her.

"You want this, don't you?" She dips her finger into her sweet hole. "You want to fill this pussy up, Mr. Hudson?"

I groan and nod.

"Well, you have to earn it."

"I paid two million for it," I say with her panties in my mouth, so all my words are muffled. I could just spit them out, but that's not happening. This is part of my punishment. The deprivation of her touch. Her scent. Her taste. Tara's just out of my reach, and I want to scream with how badly I want her.

Denial is both a punishment and an aphrodisiac for a man like me.

"I'm worth more than two million." She fingers herself faster. "I'm worth everything." Her pace quickens and I pull on my restraints when Tara whimpers in a little voice. "Fuck, I want you inside me so bad, Ryker." Rubbing her clit again, she closes her eyes and tips her head back, shoving three fingers into her swollen pussy.

My vision tunnels and I snap.

Yanking as hard as I fucking can, the chains on the cuffs break and I pitch forward, falling on my hands and knees. With her red panties still in my mouth, I crawl to her like a deranged animal. My mouth waters. My dick throbs.

Tara stares at me while she gets herself off. "I wanted to be your good girl, so you'd want to keep me," she says breathlessly. "I wanted to be perfect for you."

I groan with her panties in my mouth.

My stomach bottoms out when she sucks in a sharp breath and fucks herself harder. "I want to come for you," she groans. "I want you to want me so bad you can't walk away from me. Look what you've been missing, Ryker Hudson."

She flicks her clit faster. Fingers herself harder.

"I want you to fuck me like you did in my bed. I want you to take every hole I have and use me like I'm your whore, Ryker. Fill me with your cum and hold it inside me until I beg you to let it drip out. I want to be used in so many ways I won't be able to tell up from down. Real from fantasy."

My heart pounds in my ears. I'm inches away from her, but don't dare touch her. I can't until she lets me.

Once she does, I intend to give her everything she's asking for. I'll break Tara in half. Steal the air from her lungs and replace it with mine. I'll brand her body and keep her for life.

If she survives me.

Tara cries out as she climaxes. It's the most beautiful scene I've ever witnessed. Her hair's a mess, her makeup is smudged, her flowery dress is twisted up around her hips, her thighs shake, and chest rises with every ragged breath she takes. By the time Tara finishes riding out her orgasm and closes her legs, I'm wound up tighter than a snare drum with anticipation to see what she'll do next.

"I'm so wet," she whimpers. "My fingers weren't enough."

Bet not.

"I need something bigger, Sir."

My dick will do nicely.

"I want you to fuck me."

Swallowing is harder than it should be.

"Keep my panties in your mouth while you do it."

Jesus Christ. Humiliation isn't a sensation I endure anymore. That emotion left me a long time ago. But the desire to have things I don't deserve is my biggest flaw. It's also one of my biggest turn-ons.

Rising to my feet, I storm over to a box of condoms and grab one.

"What's that for?" she asks from the floor.

Silently, I point at my raging hard on.

"No. I don't think you've earned that privilege yet."

A growl of frustration tears from my chest.

"Fuck me with that," she says, pointing at one of the floggers hanging on my wall. "And after I come around the handle, I want you to clean it off with your tongue, then I'll use it on you."

The condom falls out of my hand and flutters on the floor. For someone who said she didn't have much experience in kinks, Tara sure knows how to play with all of mine. Reaching for the flogger, I also grab a bottle of lube because this handle isn't necessarily the smoothest.

"Crawl," she orders.

My eyes narrow. Tara's testing my patience and tolerance.

Good thing I studied.

Sinking to my knees, I hold the handle side up and make my way over to her, stopping right between her spread legs. My girl's not bashful. Nor should she be. Tara's not only a perfect Butterfly, but a perfect woman. Soft and hard, confident yet cautious, strong but delicate.

To my disappointment, she snatches the lube and flogger from me, making it clear that I don't get to help yet. With a wry smile, she obscenely strokes the handle, nice and slow. "Don't you wish this was your dick about to sink inside me?"

I nod.

Tara lubes the handle and my cock throbs, greedy and jealous like the rest of me. Her hands shake, so I put mine on top as comfort, then I take the flogger from her. Leaning in for a kiss, I stop midway, realizing I can't.

This part of the punishment hurts most because it denies me the very thing I've deprived her of this entire time. What I've forbidden myself to have for so long. A simple kiss on the mouth.

It's my kryptonite.

Tara's nails scrape my chest as she circles all my tattoos playfully. "I want you to want me."

"I do," I mumble, desperate for her to understand just how much.

"Prove it." She lies on the floor and spreads her legs.

Gripping the flogger, I lean down to smell her precious cunt first. With a flick of my wrist, I bring the tassels down on her sensitive flesh, slapping her pussy with a light thud.

Tara gasps and closes her thighs, reflexively.

I shake my head and spread them open again. Then arch my eyebrow at her.

"Green." Tara immediately says. Licking her lips, she lifts onto her elbows to watch. "Do it again, Sir."

I run the tassels along her belly, down one thigh and up the other. Then I strike her pussy again with it. Tara cries out and her legs close halfway from reflex this time. If she can't keep her legs open, she'll never be able to enjoy what I plan to do with her.

Shooting up to my feet, I prowl across the room and grab a spreader bar. Holding it up, I wait for her consent to use it. Fuck, she's gorgeous. Just look at how her mouth's parted and eyes are heavy-lidded with need.

Lusty little thing.

Tara nods, a wry smile playing across her flushed face.

In less than a minute, I've attached her ankles to the bar so she can't close her legs again. She's spread as far as her flexibility will allow. It's obscene and breathtaking. She lays back with her eyes closed, completely trusting me.

"Green," she says when I snap my fingers to get her attention again. "Very green."

No shit. My girl's soaked and swollen.

Her clit's exposed and at my mercy now. Plunging the handle inside makes Tara groan this deep, guttural sound that's music to my motherfucking ears. I alternate between fucking her with the handle and pulling it out to strike her clit with the tassels. Taking my time, I bring her to the brink of pleasure and pain until she cries out, "Please. I can't stand it anymore."

That's not Red.

"I need to come, Sir."

She'll come when I let her. Tara might have me in the submissive role here, but I'm still running this scene. I continue fucking her with the handle, and just when I think she's about to come, I pull it out. She screams in frustration.

Poor Butterfly, her wings are all aflutter.

I sink the handle back into her pussy and fuck her until she's a writhing mess, then I pull it out and hit her clit with the tassels over and over and over and—

She roars with her release, squirting all over the floor between us.

With her head tipped back, face contorted as she screams, beads of sweat rolling down between her tits, and thighs shaking like electricity is racing through her veins, Tara looks like she's in the thralls of a demonic possession.

Little does she know this devil has only just begun to have fun with her.