Hundreds (Dollar 3) - Page 62

Elder had said so.

And for the first time, I believed him.

I believed in the way his lips parted as if I was the sunrise and sunset and not just a girl. I believed in the way his body contracted and softened as if one moment he’d leap to his feet and come to me and the next he forced himself to remain sitting and locked away.

A shimmer appeared in my blood. Magic I’d never felt before.

He gave me the gift of lust just by watching me. He made me understand the different layers and complexities of desire and the respect and magnitude of control it took to gaze upon the object of your fascination and not reach out and grasp it, not bruise it, not claim it, not do anything but appreciate it for however long you were permitted.

I know what he’s doing.

I suddenly understood the rules to everything without him having to speak.

He nodded, following my thoughts as clearly as he had when I’d refused to speak to him. “You understand.”

I sucked in a breath.

“You understand you are the one giving me this gift, no one else. I’m not taking; you’re giving.” He eased back in the chair, his large hands going to his thighs where they dug hard into his muscle. “You’re in charge of this night, Pim. You tell me what you want. It’s up to you to show me what you want me to see. Give me what you want. Ask me to give you what you want in return.”

It was my turn to be mesmerised as he cupped the fierce erection in his black trousers.

“This is what you’ve done to me. The pain I’m in. The need you’ve caused. It’s all because of you. But no matter how much I want you to put me out of my misery, I won’t force you. I’m not going to touch you until you give me permission.”

My nipples hardened beneath my bra, turning to diamond the longer he looked at me and squeezed himself unforgivingly. He bit his lip as his hand turned white, touching himself not with pleasure but pain.

Pain, I knew. Pain, I understood.

I didn’t want that for him. I didn’t want that for me. I wanted something different. Something already building between us that was nameless but known all at the same time.

My hands went behind my back to unclasp my bra. The thought of showing Elder another piece of me because I wanted to gave me a surge of tingling heat.

He stiffened; his hand firm on his cock.

My eyes darted to the hotel door, making sure it was locked—almost shocked to see a door. How many years had I lived where no privacy was offered? Nowhere to run or hide? And now, here I was, standing before a man who looked less and less human the longer we played this game, and I wasn’t afraid.

I was empowered, emboldened, alive.

His voice sounded that of a beast. “You can go if you wish. I won’t stop you.”

I didn’t tell him I hadn’t been looking for an escape but making sure we would remain undisturbed. That I trusted him more than I’d trusted anyone—even myself. That he’d proven to me, by remaining locked in his chair, that I could do whatever I wanted.

I could undress for him.

I could lay on the bed for him.

I could touch myself, and he wouldn’t move.

It would kill him. But he wouldn’t move.

And knowing all that made me tumble faster into whatever it was that existed between us.

Locking eyes, I unhooked the bra strap, allowing it to unfold from my breasts and flutter to join the dress below. The air was warm around my nipples but not as warm as his mouth would be. I fantasied about him gathering me tight and sucking me. I imagined him touching me soft but firm, possessive but controlled.

My tummy clenched, making me wetter than I’d ever been. My body had healed enough that I could stand in front of a man and adapt for sex, to actually entertain the idea that I could willingly engage and enjoy.

Elder rubbed his mouth, placing both hands over his lips as if to silence any commands he might give.

Stepping away from the fallen dress, I moved backward to the bed. My hips swayed, accented by the high heels. My stomach rose and fell with shallow breaths. My body twitched and tingled as parts of me became heavy while others became light as air. My peripheral vision abandoned me and I no longer saw hotel finery, fireplaces, or fabric…only him.

He was at the end of my vocal point, slowly growing larger the more I focused. He became all I could see, acknowledge, and understand.

Bending over, my hair tumbled over my shoulder as I reached to undo the tiny buckles on my high heels. Freeing my ankles, I kicked the heels away with tiny flicks, wincing a little as my tortured metatarsals realigned from bent to straight.

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