Pain And Pleasure 18+✓

Six

Panic strikes me but I try not to give in. Freeing my hands becomes futile each time I attempt to do so by shaking my hands and twisting my wrists, only to feel the burn against my skin. Damn it! I can feel his smirk of pride and success.

"Did you just—" I huff a laugh briefly, unable to speak. My nose flares from uneven breaths flying through my nose as I try to move my hands all over again.

"Stay still, Miss Lincoln! You'll only get hurt if you move!" he warns me, and I hate that he's right because the cold metal grazes my skin and wrist bones to a burning ache. "And hurting yourself is punishable, just to be clear."

"Excuse me?" I flap. Punishable? "You're the one who—"

"How do you feel?" he interrupts me.

"What do you think? I feel helpless! Do you really have to do this?" I feel my chest propping at each erratic breath I take, my body as defenceless as though I'm naked, and he's still on top of me, straddling me in a compromising posture that runs my mind amok.

"Vulnerable is the right word." His hand strokes my cheek smoothly, heading to my cheekbone while leaning into me so close that I can smell him and his minty breath. "Hurting you is not what I desire and find satisfaction from—not at all," he says tenderly.

Does he expect me to believe him? My clammy fingers curl into fists, but I'm certain it's not from fear or discomfort.

"And how does that make you different then? You're just a control freak and I don't understand how I can feel safe in your hands," I say boldly.

"Power and control over his submissive are what any Dom requires, Miss Lincoln. That's where the difference arises between me and the rest of your imagination," he answers.

My chin lifts as his hefty fingers slide unhurriedly down my neck, turning me breathless. I can tell he's reaching for my cleavage, and eventually my breasts. Jesus, he can do whatever he wants now, can't he?

However, as his hand touches my chest he pauses right between my breasts, his palm warm against the skin over my sternum bone. A light chill runs through me, and my focus remains on his touch that's still undecided on whether to go on or not, whether deliberately or not.

But what do I want?

"Okay," I snap quietly, trying to accept my fate as his so-called submissive. "I've already said yes so now you can do whatever you want with me. I'm all yours, Sir." Deep inside I hope he's not going to be rough with me.

All for the money, Ara. Just close your eyes and this night shall pass.

Thinking of this, my mood suddenly shifts like blowing a candle in a dark room. Tears begin to gather as I wait for the tiger to pounce on me, my legs bound together defensively. All this time it's been fun and games, but right now I do feel helpless, or vulnerable as he claims. It's as though I'm being pushed into a pitch-dark hole with never-ending depth, no options left for me to decide.

Silence is all I hear; nothing seems to be moving. Mister Castle's breath is no longer closer to my face, but he's still right on top of me, studying me. My lips are trembling, begging for mercy somehow. I've never sold my body for money before, but I'm not sure if that matters anymore at this point.

Ten thousand dollars. Think of only that, Arabella.

"Miss Lincoln," he calls softly before letting out a sound breath, freeing my chest of his hand. "I'll never touch you without your true consent. And I'll only do it when I think you need me to."

I'm not sure why, but my insides flex into instant respite.

"When you think I need you to?" I miserably fail to ignore his last remark.