She couldn’t move.
Skye was still bound to the table, legs strapped wide to the carved mahogany, wrists pinned beneath her belly, face down against the wood, trembling from the last orgasm that left her body shaking and her mind shattered.
Her p***y was red. Puffy. Glazed with c*m and slick. Her thighs were streaked in it, glistening under the low candlelight.
She looked like a feast. A ruined one.
And Xavier?
He was the f*****g devil at the head of the table..shirt open, abs slick with sweat, c**k still half-hard and glistening with the mess he’d left on her back.
Then he returned.
And this time, he came carrying a silver tray.
Her vision blurred from the tears and exhaustion, but she saw it. Red strawberries. A can of whipped cream. A glass dish of honey thick as sin. Ice cubes c
