Complete Me (The Stark Trilogy)

The other hand brushes over my belly, then eases down under the triangle of silk again.
    I’m desperately wet, almost painfully turned on, and I silently pray for his touch, but once again it doesn’t come. Instead, I hear only his words. “I want you to tell me, Nikki. Does it turn you on?”
    God, yes
. I have to fight to speak. “Keep going,” I manage. “Touch me and see for yourself.”
    I hear his smile reflected in his chuckle. His fingers brush my skin, but he’s not going south. “Not unless I hear you say it.”
    “Yes,” I breathe.
    His lips are in my hair, and I feel the reverberation of his words as he whispers, “Me, too.”
    I close my eyes, expecting his touch. Craving it. But still it doesn’t come. Instead, I feel the brush of his fingers over the band of this brand-new thong—and then the pressure as he rips it at the back seam. I gasp—surprised, yes, but also aroused by the violence of the action and by the rush of cool air against my damp sex as he pulls the panties away.
    “What are you—?”
    “Shhh,” he says. “Lean forward, hands on the window. No, don’t argue. Beautiful,” he adds when I comply, then punctuates his words by stroking my now completely bare ass. “Now spread your legs for me. Oh, God, Nikki,” he groans. “Do you have any idea how much I want you?”
    “You have me.”
    He slides his hands up over my hips, trailing up the curve of my waist. He presses his body against mine, his torso against my back and his hands upon my breasts. “I do,” he says. “But I’m not taking you. Not yet.”
    A tremor runs through me, part frustration, part anticipation. I am so hot, so ready, and I do not know what to expect or where he is taking this. I only know that I want to find out.
    He stands upright again, then circles me, finally stopping near my right hand, still splayed out against the window. “I like this,” he says, reaching out to run his finger along the pearl necklace that is the only thing I still wear. “It is said that oysters are a potent aphrodisiac, but I think that pearls are equally enticing. It’s rumored that Cleopatra crushed one and drank it in wine in order to render herself irresistible to Mark Antony. But I think I prefer them as an adornment. For that matter, I can think of a few other adornments that I would like to see.”
    “Damien—” I stop myself because I don’t know what I want to say other than to beg.
    “Stay put,” he says. “Don’t touch yourself. Don’t put your legs together. You’ll come when I let you, Nikki, but not before. Break my rules, and I promise you won’t like the punishment.”
    I swallow and nod. “But where are you going?” I call as he disappears into the bedroom. I get no answer, and I close my eyes in frustration, hyperaware of every inch of my body. Of the dampness at the back of my neck along my hairline. Of the tiny hairs upon my skin, standing up as if electrified, caught up in this storm that is Damien. Mostly, I am aware of the aching in my cunt.
    I do not touch, though I desperately want to, and I am aware of every movement of my body, every brush of air. I can feel my pulse beating in my sex, and my muscles clenching with longing. I am need personified—and what I need is Damien.
    He is only gone for minutes, but it seems like I am waiting forhours, lost with my own reflection. A nude woman against a shiny surface, a dream world of city lights blazing behind her. I am like a woman from one of Blaine’s paintings, forever captured by his brush in a state of arousal, never quite able to reach satisfaction.
    No
, I think. Please don’t let Damien be teasing me like that.
    When he returns, he has something in his hand. He sets it on the table behind me. I can’t see what it is, but I think I hear the clink of metal upon metal.
    “Damien?” I ask, my voice wary. “What are you doing?”
    He comes around in front of me, then gently takes my hands off the glass, easing me back up straight. A slow grin lights his face, and I see both amusement and heat in those beautiful eyes. I expect his answer before he says it—“What I want, Nikki. Always, what I want.”
    I lick my lips. “And what is that?”
    “To give you pleasure.” He moves behind me, to the table, then returns with something in his hand. “Do you remember this?”
    He opens his hand to reveal a silver serpentine chain connected by two rings, each with two small metal balls on them. The balls pull apart,