67

67
Imogen’s pov
We entered the house and barely a word was said to each other. 
He had taken out a cigarette from his stash and had lit it up as I could smell it from where I stood.
“You can’t just stop like it, Silas,” I queried.
He didn’t say anything, instead he took in a quick draw of the cigar and went straight to the bar to pour himself a drink. 
“Really? You’re just going to ignore me all over again?” I blurted out.
He still ignored me making me feel like I was nothing and that pushed me over the edge. I took my purse and walked to the door.
If he wanted silence, fine. I’d give it to him.
My hand had barely touched the handle when his voice sliced through the air.
“Where do you think you are going?” He asked.
“Home or anywhere far from here,” I said as I tried to keep my voice steady but it betrayed me.
“It is late and you don’t need…”
“Yeah, like you care?” I blurted out, cutting him off.
The corner of his mouth curled upward— a smile like I’d amused him, like my defiance was a trick I thought I could actually pull off.
“I am serious,” I hissed.
And then he moved.
Not with speed, but with certainty. The cigarette  was pressed in the ashtray, the glass set aside, and his long strides carried him across the room until he was in front of me. His hand closed around mine— not rough, not gentle, but firm and inescapable.
“You look tired,” he said, his voice low, threaded with restraint, as though he were holding something back. His eyes softened, just for a breath, and that alone left me more unsettled than his silence.
“You need to rest,” he continued. “Go freshen up.”
And before I could argue, before I could say all the words stuck on my tongue, he turned me gently, guiding me toward the hallway with a quiet authority I couldn’t fight.
His hand stayed on mine until he placed it on the bathroom door handle, a wordless command to go inside. Then he left me there, his footsteps fading back toward the bar.
I shut the door and leaned against it, my chest heaving. My reflection in the mirror stared back— flushed cheeks, lips still parted, eyes clouded with frustration and something I didn’t want to name.
I pulled off my clothes slowly, almost angrily, and stepped into the shower. 
Hot water poured over me, but it didn’t wash away the ache, if anything, it made it worse. The heat sank deep into my skin, loosening my muscles, but every thought went back to him. His silence, his control and the way he put his hand on me— the  way he could pull me apart without even touching me where I needed it most.
My fingers slid down, rubbing my clit, hard and fast but it was useless— every stroke dragged up his mouth. 
 “Fuck,” I moaned, slamming the water off, my pussy still pulsing, unsatisfied and screaming for him.
By the time I stepped out, my skin was damp, flushed, my body wound tight with a need that wouldn’t go away.
I reached for the towel, but then I froze.
On the bed, laid out like it had been waiting for me, was lingerie so sheer it was practically sinful. Black lace that would barely cover anything, delicate straps that promised to frame me like a gift. Next to it was a folded note in a bold and slanted handwriting.
I shouldn’t have let jealousy show tonight. I don’t apologize often, but you deserve it, princess.
I swallowed hard, fingers tightening on the note.
I didn’t need his apology. What I needed was him. Raw and unrestrained fuck until the anger and  the jealousy were burned out between us.
I slipped into the lingerie, the lace clinging to my damp skin, and when I caught sight of myself in the mirror, I almost didn’t recognize the woman staring back.
 I looked like temptation itself.
The lingerie barely covered my tits and my pussy was exposed— way too exposed that I should have felt naked but instead I felt confident.
And I wanted to be devoured.
The sound of ice clinking in a glass pulled me forward. I walked barefoot out of the room, heart slamming against my chest, until I saw him.
Blond, leaning against the counter. His gray joggers slung low, bare chest ripped, abs flexing as he poured whiskey. His cock bulged through the fabric— thick, long, and a fucking weapon.
 I licked my lips, my cunt clenching and was soaked, his half naked body was a goddamn assault. His  tattoos stark against his skin while a glass of whiskey rested in one hand. 
He looked up, blue eyes raking me, a dirty smirk spreading, like he knew I was fucked.
For a moment, I just stood there, drinking him in. He looked like sin and salvation wrapped into one, and I couldn’t take it anymore.
I ran to him.
His mouth parted like he was about to speak, maybe to apologize again, but I cut him off with a kiss.
Not soft. 
Not patient.
Hungry.
My hands clawed his neck, nails scraping, kissing him as he smirked against my mouth, not shocked, like he’d planned this. 
His cock was rock hard, grinding my thigh through his joggers. 
“Fuck, you’re desperate,” he growled, voice thick, kissing me back, brutal, tongue raping mine, tasting whiskey. 
 I moaned, loud and shameless, my hands ripping at his joggers, but he yanked my robe open, tits bouncing free, nipples hard. 
“Fuck, these tits,” he groaned as he bent to put one in his mouth— sucking my nipple hard, his teeth grazing, and tongue swirling.
His hand slid between my thighs, as his fingers rubbed my pussy, slowly but teasing my clit. 
“So fucking wet, made for my filthy mouth,” he moaned, voice vibrating against my tit. Switching to the other tit, sucking deeper— still  his fingers circling my clit, dipping inside, making me cry out.
“Fuck, yes,” my pussy juice dripping, soaking his hand.
But before I could say more, I sank down onto my knees, looking up at him with lust in my eyes.
“I want to repay the favor,” I whispered.
But he stopped me before I could pull his joggers off.
Again?
I groaned. “Again?”
He smiled but this time raised me up and took me into a room that was dark then he switched on the lights.
This room was an exact replica of the one that was at the club where we first met but with a darker edge.
I took in a deep breath— one of fear and delight for what was to come.
He let me down so easy and he led me  to a couch that was at the edge of the room close to a cabinet I could barely see what was inside and that piqued my interest.
He raised his head and looked at me while he licked his lower lips. “I am not going to play nice with you anymore,” he said, his voice low but definitely sounded he made it sound that way.
Did he know how crazy he made me and is playing my feelings?
I shrug my shoulders. “Nice? We’ve done this before, haven’t we?”
He let out a soft chuckle. “Princess, this is way different but I am not going to go any further without your consent.” He rose to his feet and went to the cabinet— he switched on the light and he was right as my mouth was opened in awe.
The cabinet was filled with different toys— not just toys but ones with edgier sights. Whips, cuffs, gag, spreader bar and lots of other sex tools.
This was definitely what we’d ever done.
This was darker.
Blond watched me carefully, his hand resting on the edge of the cabinet, his body angled like a predator testing the air.
“Scared, princess?” His voice was low, almost amused.
I swallowed hard, my lips parting. “I… I don’t know.” I could barely get a word out.
He stepped closer, his fingers brushing my jaw, tilting my head up so I had no choice but to meet his blue eyes — sharp, and burning with desires.
“That’s good,” he murmured. “Fear keeps you aware, but I’m not going to break you, Princess. I’m going to teach you.”
Teach me?
I thought this was all sex was about and I was burning with desire to even care about anything other than his cock that was dangling free in his pants but I was also curious.
“Teach me?” I whispered, almost breathless.
His mouth curved into the kind of smile that made my knees tremble. “Everything— what it means to kneel, to obey and to surrender. You’ll learn how to use your safeword. You’ll learn what your body craves, even when your mind tells you to resist. You’ll learn how far I can take you… and how far you’re willing to go for me.”
Heat flooded my skin, my pussy already fucking dripping at the thought of being completely at his mercy.
I wanted to deny it — to pretend I wasn’t curious — but the truth slipped out anyway.
“And if I can’t handle it?” I asked, my voice breaking.
He leaned in until his lips brushed the bottom part of my ear, his breath was hot and fucking commanding.
He didn’t have to say anything because I was ready.
“Then you tell me, princess. That’s the first rule: you’re mine, but I protect what’s mine. Always.”
His words settled into me like chains — heavy, inevitable, and instead of running, I found myself nodding.
He gripped my chin tighter, forcing my gaze back to his.
“Tonight, I’ll show you restraint, control, pain and the pleasure that follows it. You’ll trust me, and when it’s over, you’ll thank me for giving you something no one else ever could.”
My lips parted, but no sound came out. My body was already betraying me — wet, trembling, ready.
He chuckled darkly, he used his tongue to lined my lips before pressing a kiss at the corner of my mouth, then pulling back just enough to whisper:
“Undress but slowly.  Lesson one begins now.”