Page 21 of House of Sin
I crossed the room, letting my hips sway with lazy confidence, until I reached Violet, still perched on the couch armrest. Her attention was half on the miner beside her and half on me, eyes lighting up as I approached.
“Birdie, darling, you look delicious tonight,” she purred, lips curling into a smirk.
I winked. “Hopefully I taste just as good as I look.”
The miner swallowed hard. Violet caught the shift in his expression and chortled. “Well, we do aim to please, don’t we?”
“Only when they earn it.” I teased, my eyes scanning the room.
Then I saw him. The one who’d been watching me from the corner booth since I walked in. He was trying to look casual, leaning against the table as ifhe hadn’t been burning holes through me since the moment I stepped downstairs.
Sweet thing. He probably thought he was being subtle.
I took my time crossing the room, my heels clipping against the floor with just enough bite to slice through the noise, and with each inch I closed, I could sense the tension in him coiling tighter.
I stood before him, an inch too close, close enough to make him nervous, and could feel the heat roll off him. Could see the way his breath hitched, how his hands twitched at his side like they were fighting the urge to move.
“Do you want me?” I asked, daring him to pretend that he didn't. If he was going to eye-fuck me all night, why not let him experience it properly?
I watched his throat work as he swallowed, his Adam's apple shifting up and down.
“Yes,” he whispered, the word breaking on it's way out.
I let my fingers trail along his collar, my nails dragging lightly over the fabric, and I felt the stutter of his heartbeat through the thin cotton. He was unraveling already, bit by bit, one teasing touch at a time, andthe power of it surged through me. This raw desire twisted into something I could mold, control, or even break if I wanted. I hadn’t let this side of me out in weeks, and now, it was hungry.
I leaned closer, brushing my lips against the warm pulse at his neck, tasting the salt of his skin, my teeth grazed him lightly. “Then you’ll have to pay for it first,” I murmured, my breath hot against his ear as my hand slid lower. “That's how you'll earn every inch of me.” His body trembled under my touch, cock already straining against his pants, begging for attention he hadn’t earned yet as he fumbled for his wallet.
With the cash in my hand, I caught his wrist and pulled him through the crowd, guiding him upstairs to one of my favorite playrooms. At the center, a large circular bed dominated the space, draped in black silk sheets. In the corner stood an ornate padded chair, its leather arm and leg straps gleaming, ready to bind and expose. Nearby, a wooden chest table held feathers, oils, and a coiled whip waiting for its turn. But the real star was the tall, multi-paneled mirror spanning one wall, reflecting every angle of surrender.
“Strip,” I commanded, my voice impatient. “Turn around and face the mirror. I want you to watch yourself.”
He hesitated, looking at me like he wasn't entirely sure he had heard me correctly. Then he reached for his buttons, fumbling slightly, his shirt falling open to reveal a chest dusted with dark hair, his muscles tightening with nerves. His pants dropped next, cock springing free—thick and veined, already leaking pre-cum from the tip. He stood there, naked and vulnerable, eyes locked on his reflection as I circled him like a shark.
I stepped behind him, my hands sliding over his shoulders, down his arms, feeling him shiver. “Don’t speak unless I tell you to,” I ordered, my fingers wrapping around his cock, stroking slowly from base to tip. He gasped, hips bucking involuntarily, but he kept his eyes on the mirror, watching my hand work him—squeezing the shaft, thumb circling the slick head, milking out more of that clear fluid. His balls tightened under my palm as I cupped them, rolling them gently, then tugging just hard enough to make him groan. “You’re already shaking.”
“I—”
“Don’t . . .speak . . .unless I ask you to.” I repeated, releasing him abruptly.
His jaw flexed, but he nodded in agreement.
“You’re pretty when you’re obedient,” I whispered, my lips brushing the shell of his ear, “but you’ll be beautiful when you beg.”
He let out a sharp breath as I met his eyes in the mirror, his reflection unsure and needy. I stepped back to untie the delicate satin ribbon at the top of my bodice, allowing the fabric to fall away, and my breasts to be fully exposed. My nipples were hard and aching in the cool air, while his gaze devoured them in the mirror.
“You want these?” I asked, my tone mockingly sweet as I trailed one finger down my breast, then lower, slow enough to torture. Knowing that anticipation ripens best when it is forced to wait.
“Yes,” he rasped, breathless.
I stepped beside him, so we were both in full view. His restraint, my dominance, reflected back in perfect symmetry. “Then earn it.” I challenged, as I crossed to the vanity, the drawer sliding open with a soft creak.
Inside lay the flogger, its dark leather strands coiled and when I lifted it, the tails spilled over my palm in a slow cascade. I trailed the tails along his back first, watching goosebumps erupt across his skin. “Feel that?” I asked, not giving him enough time to answer before I pulled back and snapped it forward, the strands whistling through the air before cracking against his ass. He jerked, a sharp hiss escaping his lips, red welts blooming instantly where the leather kissed his flesh. “Count them,” I demanded, striking again, harder this time, the tails wrapping around his hip, stinging his thigh.
“One,” he rasped, voice breaking.
I built the rhythm, each lash deliberate: a light flick across his shoulders, making him arch; a heavier thud against his lower back, forcing his cock to twitch. The flogger’s tails bit into his ass cheeks, spreading heat that radiated down his legs, his skin flushing from pale to angry pink. “That’s it baby, you take the pain so well.” I praised with the next snap, the leather thudding against his chest.
“Five,” he gasped after a particularly vicious one that left parallel lines across his pecs, the pain twistinghis face in the mirror, but his cock throbbed harder, betraying his hunger.
