The Ribbon Test (Part 2)

My heart pounds wildly in my chest as I stare up at him, my breath unsteady. His fingers dig into my hips, holding me in place like he’s already decided I won’t be moving unless he allows it.

“I knew you’d break,” he murmurs, amusement laced in his voice. His thumb brushes over the side of my throat, light but possessive. “You act so strong, so defiant… but you always crumble so easily.”

I swallow, my throat dry. “I—I didn’t crumble.”

His brow lifts, and my stomach twists. He knows I’m lying.

“Oh?” His fingers slip beneath my chin, tilting my head up until I have no choice but to meet his gaze. “Then tell me, baby girl… what were you reaching for?”

I clamp my lips shut, determined not to give him the satisfaction.

He hums like he expected my silence, and suddenly, I feel his hands everywhere—roaming down my sides, over my thighs, teasing but never lingering. My breathing stutters.

“Was it this?” His fingers skim up my inner thigh. So close. “Or maybe this?” His lips brush against my ear, his breath warm, making my skin prickle.

I shudder, heat pooling low in my belly.

He chuckles softly. “No?” His fingers drift lower, tracing slow, lazy circles over the sensitive skin just above my knee. “Then maybe… you just wanted a kiss.”

My fingers twitch behind my back. Damnit!

“Admit it,” he coaxes, his voice a whisper against my lips. “Say you wanted me to touch you.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, refusing.

His grip tightens suddenly, just enough to send a thrill through me. “Still so stubborn.”

And then he moves—shoving me down onto my back, my bound hands pinned beneath me. He straddles my hips, holding me still. His weight, his presence—it’s overwhelming in the best way.

“Let’s make this simple,” he muses, fingers trailing over my stomach. “Since you don’t seem to understand what ‘obedience’ means.”

My breath hitches. “I understand it just fine.”

He smiles. Dangerous. Knowing. “Is that so?”

I barely have time to react before he grips my thighs, dragging me flush against him. The friction makes me gasp, my back arching off the floor.

His mouth hovers just over mine, teasing. “Then prove it.”

I swallow hard, my pulse hammering in my throat.
“…How?”

His smirk deepens.

“Oh, sweetheart.” His fingers trail lower, his touch featherlight but deliberate. “You’ll see.”