Free Bold Beautiful Love -- A Temptation Court Contemporary Romance: Temptation Court: Passion in New York by Angel Payne Page A

exchange. Deepening trust. The gift of her body to mine. The relinquishment of her personal will—a commodity that has, for so much of her life, been the only thing she can rely on.
    “How are you?” I ask it while once more testing the snugness of the leather cuff around her right ankle. The O-ring at the back of it is latched into the connector at the end of the steel bar.
    “I am…good. Thank you, Mr. Court.” Her voice is a husk of lust, punching straight to the core of my cock. Christ. I haven’t even started to push out the bar yet. Her pussy is still just a peek of pink—and her ass isn’t close to what I crave.
    What I have planned…
    “That is very good to hear, because we’re only getting started.” I finish that by twisting the pin free from the middle of the bar. “But before we do, you need to tell me that you understand two things.”
    “Of course, Mr. Court.”
    I stroke her thighs from ass to knees, literally caressing more security into her. “Number one: I am going to open you, Ella. Touch you, then fuck you, in ways we’ve only talked about before. Push you…in order to plunge you into deeper bliss than you’ve ever imagined. To do that, I don’t just require your trust. I demand it.”
    A heavy swallow rolls down her throat. Her shoulders bunch up then visibly soften. “You have it.” And suddenly, her voice is strong and clear. “I promise.”
    “And your promise leads to point number two. My promise. This isn’t some game, Ella. Nothing between us will ever be a game. So if you say no—if you even whisper stop —that’s my complete sign to do so. Got it?”
    She’s listened to my declaration in such stillness, her playful little wriggle comes as a strange precursor to her surprise of a reply. “I would not dream of ever asking you to stop, Mr. Court.”
    Well.
    Two can play at that teasing game.
    And I do—in the form of a sound that’s half savoring snarl and half wicked chuckle.
    “But you have no idea what I am going to ask of you, Miss Santelle.”
    *
    Mishella
    The shivers deepen with every new clink of the bar.
    Tremors along my skin…expanding through each of my pores…then claiming every fiber of the flower at my core, unfolding for his gaze…exposed even more when he turns on the bedside lamp and even removes its shade.
    “Fuck,” he rasps. “Fuck. Me. You’re so perfect, Ella.”
    A blush crashes in, along with my shivers. The sensations are a skirmish in my senses, causing my muscles to react, instinctively wanting to hide. But I cannot. I am his. Controlled by him. Submitted to him. Offered to him…
    Open to the fingers he slides over my trembling mons…then through my wet, achy slit. A prisoner to the jerks of my body, trying to push at him for more…but needing to escape the intensity…
    He seems to know this, and pulls away.
    Only to pull that damn pin again.
    And spread the bar wider.
    “Ohhhh…” It stammers from me as a cool wind brushes in from the terrace, caressing the exposed nub at my core, and all the aroused folds around it…
    And now, the sensitive rose of my backside.
    I am spread so wide, even those delicate edges are now bared—a fact not escaping Cassian’s attention for a moment. From the dark satisfaction in his new growl, I might even guess this has been his purpose all along.
    I am going to open you…touch you, then fuck you, in ways we’ve only talked about before …
    “Oh… my .” It is not such a stutter anymore. The fear will not allow for that.
    Cassian pauses, his hands spread across my upper thighs. “That’s not a stop.”
    I force moisture into my mouth. “No, Mr. Court. It is not.”
    “Then grip the bed cover, Ella. And push against me.”
    Push against me . He has used the words before when exploring the tight tunnel of my backside—even when plunging his fingers there while taking me with his cock—but there is a new element in this version of his command. A guttural catch, as if resonating from