His voice is rough, lips pressed against her ear as he pulls her hair back and twists it into an elegant braid before getting to his feet.
"Yes, sir."
She's kneeling on the floor, head down and her wrists bound with rope. There's a blindfold over her eyes and her heart is thumping against her ribs. She can feel him circling her like a shark, dragging the tip of his knife across her bare shoulders. He's calm, collected, and Dahlia can't fucking wait to see what he's going to do.
"You're mine today, peach. That means that I get to use you however I want."
"Yes, sir."
She's soaked through her panties and sweat gathers between her thighs. He's been doing this for twenty minutes now. Torturing her. This whole thing with Ultron has made him crave control, and Dahlia wants to give it to him.
His lips glide up and down her neck.
"That's my girl. You want to be fucked, don't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"You want my big cock inside of you? Want me to make you scream?"
"Yes, sir."
Her voice is growing more ragged by the second as arousal grips her nerve endings, pulling them apart piece by piece. All of her senses feel heightened and her head turns every so often when she hears his bare feet brushing against the carpet. They're downstairs in the basement of their house in Florence. James has his own little space down here, full of paddles, knives, guns, vibrators, and anything else they could possibly think of. It's their little slice of heaven in Italy. She wants to build one in their Malibu home, but they haven't had the time to bring a contractor in.
And pay him to keep quiet.
"Stand up, peach."
He takes her bound hands and helps guide her to her feet. She's not wearing anything other than a pair of panties, at his request. After Father Paul left, James told her to go downstairs, strip for him, and wait. She found his favorite pair of lace panties in a drawer. Her only request was that he cut them off of her and shove them down her throat.
In his words, "I would be delighted to honor that request, prinţesă."
"Arms up."
His voice is husky and deep, and Dahlia lets out a soft breath as she swallows the metaphorical cotton ball in her throat.
