Sins Of Her Venom
Chapter 91: Leashed & Devoted

Chapter 91: Leashed & Devoted

- Kathrine Andrews: ( Song of the Chapter: Tongue by Mariboustate)

I tightened my grip on the leash, feeling the weight of it in my hand, the soft yet unyielding leather connecting me to her.

Glyndon knelt between my legs, her body still, her breath slow and uneven. Her chin rested against my thigh like a submissive little puppy, her wide eyes looking up at me with something raw, something pleading.

Begging.

Not with words—she didn’t need to.

Her expression said everything.

She wanted me to take her. To own her. To control her.

She would do anything for me.

Anything I wanted.

A slow smirk curled my lips as I traced my fingers along the collar, feeling the smooth leather encircling her throat. It suited her. Perfectly. Like it was made to be there.

She swallowed hard at my touch, her eyes never leaving mine, dark and hazy with something dangerously sweet.

Desperation.

Obedience.

Submission.

I tilted my head, watching her, drinking in the way she knelt so perfectly for me, how she leaned into my touch as she needed it. Like she needed me.

I pulled the leash. Just a little. Just enough to make her breath hitch, her body tense, her lips part.

Her thighs squeezed together.

I hummed in amusement, running my fingers through her soft hair before gripping it, tilting her head back just enough to make her neck stretch for me.

I leaned in, my lips barely brushing her ear as I whispered, "You want me to use you, don’t you?"

A shaky breath.

A slight tremble.

Then, a barely audible, "Yes."

I yanked the leash, making her gasp.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Kathrine."

I clicked my tongue in disapproval. "Try again."

She swallowed, her hands clutching my thighs as she whispered, "Yes, Please Kathrine. Please. "

I smirked. Much better.

I tugged on the leash again, firmer this time, watching with satisfaction as Glyndon gasped, her body shifting closer to me instinctively, her lips parting as if she wanted to say something—but she didn’t.

She knew better.

She was waiting. Waiting for my next move, waiting for my permission, waiting for me to decide what she deserved.

I leaned back against the plush seat, keeping my grip tight on the leash as I studied her.

She was stunning like this—on her knees, completely at my mercy, wearing my chains, my collar, and those lacy purple panties that matched my motorcycle. It was almost funny, how perfectly they clung to her skin, how they were meant to be ruined.

She looked up at me through her lashes, her eyes glazed over, her lips trembling. She was so lost in this, completely submerged in whatever haze of submission she had willingly given herself to.

Good girl.

I ran my fingers along her jaw, tilting her chin up further so she had no choice but to hold my gaze.

"You are being so obedient all of a sudden," I mused, dragging my thumb across her bottom lip, watching as her breath hitched at the simple touch. "Is this what you wanted all along, Glyndon? To be owned? By me?"

Her pupils dilated, and she nodded—hesitant at first, then firmer as if accepting it herself.

"Say it."

Her throat bobbed as she tried to find her voice, but when she finally spoke, it was nothing more than a desperate whisper.

"I want to be yours. I want to be owned by you."

I tugged the leash hard, making her stumble forward, her hands automatically grabbing onto my thighs to steady herself. Her face was so close to mine now, her breath hot against my skin.

"You already are," I murmured. "And you’re going to show it to everyone."

Her fingers curled into the fabric of my robe, her entire body tense with anticipation.

"Tell me, Glyndon," I continued, my voice a teasing purr. "How far are you willing to go for me?"

She inhaled sharply, her eyes never leaving mine.

"As far as you’ll let me."

A slow, wicked grin spread across my lips.

Perfect.

I let the moment, savoring the way Glyndon trembled under my touch, the way her breath shuddered as she waited for my next move. She was so eager, so willing to give herself over completely, and I wasn’t going to make it easy for her.

I traced my fingers over her jaw, letting my nails scrape lightly against her skin, just enough to make her shiver.

Then I tugged on the leash again, forcing her head to tilt back slightly, exposing the delicate column of her throat. My mark should be there. My teeth, my lips, my ownership.

"Take off my shoes," I commanded, my tone calm, but there was no mistaking the authority in my voice.

She blinked, then nodded quickly, her hands moving down to unbuckle the straps of my heels which she bought for me with this robe and lingerie.

I watched her closely, the way her fingers trembled slightly, the way she swallowed hard as she slid them off one by one.

She was fully in this now, letting herself be completely mine, her pride crumbling in the face of whatever desire burned inside her.

I ran the tip of my foot along her thigh, watching as goosebumps spread across her skin. "You’re so quiet," I murmured, my voice low. "Tell me, does this make you nervous?"

Glyndon licked her lips, her breath hitching as she glanced up at me. "Yes," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Good." I leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "You should be."

Her lips parted, but whatever she was about to say was lost as I pulled the leash again, guiding her onto my lap.

She straddled my thighs hesitantly, her hands finding my shoulders as she settled against me.

I tilted my head, studying her. "You’re still thinking too much," I mused, running my fingers along the collar fastened around her neck. "You’re not here to think. You’re here to obey."

Glyndon’s breathing grew heavier, her body pressing closer as she nodded. "I’ll do anything you tell me," she whispered.

My grip tightened on the leash. "I know."

I let her sit there for a moment, let her feel the weight of my control, let her squirm slightly under the pressure of my gaze.

Then, slowly, I reached up, sliding my fingers into the silky robe she wore—the one that matched mine perfectly—and pushed it off her shoulders.

She gasped softly as it slipped down her arms, pooling onto the floor, leaving her in nothing but the delicate lace that barely covered anything.

My eyes swept over her, drinking her in, taking my time. The way the chains gleamed against her skin. The way her chest rose and fell with each unsteady breath.

The way her thighs tensed, as if she was holding herself back from grinding down against me.

I slid my hands up her waist, tracing every curve, every dip, and watched as she trembled beneath my touch.

"You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you?" I whispered against her ear.

A small, broken sound escaped her throat, her hands tightening on my shoulders.

I smirked.

"I want to hear you beg for it."

Glyndon’s fingers dug into my shoulders, her breath shaky as she shifted in my lap. The leash in my hand was taut, keeping her close, exactly where I wanted her.

She looked utterly wrecked already, just from anticipation, just from the power I held over her.

Her lips parted, but nothing came out at first. She swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling as she tried to gather herself.

I could see it—how much she wanted to give in completely, how much she wanted me to break her, to own her.

But I wasn’t going to make it easy for her.

I tugged on the leash again, just enough to force her gaze to meet mine. "I said," I murmured, my tone sharper now, "beg for it."

Glyndon’s breath hitched. Her thighs clenched around mine, and she shuddered as if the command itself sent a pulse of need straight through her.

"Please," she whispered.

I arched a brow. "Please what?"

Her face burned, but she didn’t look away. "Please... I want you to touch me," she admitted, her voice so soft, so unsteady.

I hummed, dragging my fingers lazily up her arms. "You’ll have to do better than that, little devil," I said, tilting my head slightly. "I want details."

She whimpered, and the sound sent a rush of satisfaction through me. She wanted to fight it, but she wanted me more.

"I want..." she hesitated, her hands gripping my robe tightly. "I want your hands on me. I want you to use me at your disposal whore. I want to be yours. Do anything and everything to me. Whatever you want, I’ll take it. Please."

I exhaled slowly, savoring those words.

"That’s a good girl," I murmured, and the way she shivered, the way her lips parted slightly, told me she liked hearing that more than she’d ever admit.

I ran my fingers down her stomach, stopping just above the waistband of her lace panties—the ones that were the exact shade of my motorcycle.

"You wore these for me," I mused, tracing slow circles over her hip. "You knew exactly what you were doing, didn’t you?"

Glyndon’s breath was ragged now, her body completely pliant under my touch. "Yes," she admitted.

I gripped her waist, pulling her flush against me, letting her feel just how much I was enjoying this.

"You’re mine," I murmured, my voice dark and possessive. "Say it."

She let out a soft, breathy moan, her nails digging into me. "I’m yours," she whispered.

A wicked smile spread across my lips.

"Good girl. Now get back on your knees."

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