20
Sara
When we get to our room, Peter leads me to the bed. Stopping in front of it, he removes his robe, letting it drop to the floor, and then he unties mine and pushes it off my shoulders, leaving me naked. He seems fully in control, the volatile anger leashed for the moment, and despite my nervousness, my thighs clench on a surge of heat as he brushes his knuckles over the sensitive skin of my upper breasts before cupping each mound and gently rubbing his thumbs over my n*****s.
“You look scared,” he observes, his silvery gaze hard and opaque. “Are you afraid I’ll hurt you?” His fingers close on my n*****s, pinching with startling force, and I gasp, my hands flying up to grip his wrists.
“Tell me, Sara.” He pinches my n*****s harder, the pressure bordering on pain. “Do you think I’
