The Sinner's Club [18+] Complete

chapter thirty-one.

THE COLD STARE of Nathaniel's gaze beats down on me. But I refuse to give in, to acquiesce. He'll learn soon enough that two can play at this torturous game.

"You want me to beg?" He asks through gritted teeth. The pure rage radiating off him is gratifying.

"I don't know, do you want a blowjob?" I tip my chin up. I might be naked and on my knees before him, but I won't let him think that I am utterly powerless.

The veins on his forearms become more prominent as his hands curl into fists. "Open your mouth, Wren," he demands and then reaches for my head again. I scoot back, keeping my lips sealed together. His voice drops, his tone deadly. "I swear to God, little bird–"

"I never took you as a religious man."

I see it in his eyes: a spark. A blaze. He can act as furious and frustrated as he wants, but he's enjoying this. The challenge, the fight—he's eating it up.

"You know, I've thought about it," I say, my voice huskier now. "I've thought about tasting you, about choking on your cock."

A sharp breath inflates his chest.

"I think I'd like it...but you have to beg me first."

In a flash, he reaches down and seizes my arm, hauling me up and to my feet until our bare chests are pressed flush together. His grip on my arm is so tight it's painful.

"I don't beg for anything," he hisses at me, our faces close enough that if I just tipped my head up a fraction, we'd be kissing.

"Then maybe you should fantasize about something else, because my mouth isn't going to be anywhere near your dick."

His eyes dip down to my mouth, and I watch as his pupils visibly dilate. "Fuck," he mutters, his tongue darting out and wetting his own lips.

He's contemplating it; I can see it on his face. I try to be patient, but I want to give him a blowjob, I want to see him fall apart the way he has made me fall apart so many times now.

"Wren," he forces the words out as though they are being ripped from his throat, "will you please get on your knees and open your mouth, before I do something we will both regret?"

"Say please once more."

"Do not push it."

The thrill of victory playing out through my expression, I lower myself to my knees, running my palms down his hard stomach as I go. My hand wraps around his length and I pump it slowly.

He groans, eyes closing once more, and when I lean forward to finally suck his erection into my mouth, a look of pure relief floods his face.

He buries his hand in my hair and pushes his hips forward till I am gagging on his cock and I have to pull back.

"Fuck, your mouth feels so good." He shoves me down harder this time and I choke, but I fight not to pull back, instead taking him an inch deeper. The carpet is surprisingly soft on my knees as I shuffle even closer to him. I bob my head up and down a few times, twisting my hand at the base of his erection. A deep groan rumbles out of him. "Put your hands behind your back, Wren."

Obliging, I cross my hands at the base of my back, and he sinks his cock in deeper, fucking my face steadily as I try—and fail—to not gag. I turn my eyes up to him, tears falling down my cheeks, and I find that he is already staring down at me. This look on his face is entirely new, one I have never seen from him before. It is pure and revealing, yearning and hungry.

He pulls out of my mouth with a wet popping sound, and rubs his thumb over my swollen bottom lip as I pant desperately for much-needed air.

"You're so fucking pretty on your knees, little bird." His thumb moves over to my cheek, swiping up and down gently. With his other hand, he pinches my chin and tips my head up. His thumb leaves my cheek and for a moment it's quiet until–

Smack.

His slap hits the side of my face hard enough to make me gasp, though the sting is minimal. Immediately, he rubs the reddening skin of my cheek with his palm, soothing it.

Then, he slaps my other cheek slightly harder and the shock that it sends through me goes straight between my legs.

I lean forward, seeking out his cock, and he buries it in my mouth once again.

Curse words and praises fall from his lips as he goes over the edge, coming in the back of my throat, his hand tight in my hair. "Swallow it, Wren. All of it, that's it."

I eagerly do as he says, swallowing and bobbing my head up and down his length a few more times before he pulls out.

There is a moment of heavy silence as he stares down at me with something that looks awfully close to tenderness shining in his midnight eyes.

He blinks and it's gone. The expression on his face becomes detached once more.

Swooping down, he pulls me into his arms and lifts me from the floor, then deposits me onto the bed.

"Get some rest," he tells me briskly. "We're not done yet. I'll wake you in a few hours."

With that, he turns and leaves me alone in his bedroom, closing the door behind him. I half expect to hear a lock turn, to become his prisoner, live-in-sex-slave style. But there is no lock; only my obligation—and my not so hidden desires—keeping me immobilized.

For about an hour, I literally can't move. My limbs feel heavy and this bed is very comfortable. I pull the duvet over my naked body and relish the silk sheets against my skin.

Eventually, I haul myself up and pad into the ensuite, eyeing the large, glass shower and the marble basin. After going to the toilet and splashing some water on my face, I head back into the bedroom and start looking around.

For months, Nathaniel has plagued practically my every waking thought. This is probably my last chance to sate my desperate curiosity about him.

I dig through his bedside table. Lube, some condoms, a phone charger. Nothing particularly interesting.

His cupboard is a sea of navy and black suits, aligned in color order and all freshly dry-cleaned.

There's not much else in the room. From what I've seen, the whole house is rather impersonal.

With a long sigh, I sit back heavily on the bed, bouncing slightly. My heel knocks into the bottom of the base and I hear a soft click.

Pause. What was that?

I drop down to the ground beside the bed and lift the sheet to see that the wooden base of the bed contains a concealed drawer. As I pull it open, my eyes go wide.

Whips, handcuffs, rope, silk restraints, vibrators, blindfolds.

Jesus Christ.

What the hell is he planning on doing to me? And why am I even more turned on right now than I was before?

The door to the bedroom opens and my head snaps up as Nathaniel strolls back inside. He's wearing sweatpants and nothing else.

"Snooping?" He questions with a raised eyebrow.

"N–no." The open drawer in front of me says otherwise.

He hums, his brown hair a little messy as he comes forward and crouches down beside me. "Lying," he tsks and grabs one of the silk restraints in his hand. "I think that deserves punishment, don't you?"

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