Greg toyed with the wand, dragging it slowly—infuriatingly—across her skin.
Left to right. Right to left. Outer thigh to inner. Never where she needed it, never where the ache burned the most.
The vibrations teased, sending shivers up her spine, making her legs twitch in their restraints. Her breath hitched as he grazed the wand higher, only to swerve away at the last moment, his smirk deepening at her unspoken frustration.
Then, just when she thought she knew his game, he shifted course—gliding the device over her stomach, up her arms, before trailing it back down to her chest.
Circling. Taunting.
One breast, then the other, never settling, always just out of reach of true satisfaction.
"Greg…" she whispered, her voice a delicate plea.
But he wasn't done playing.
Without a word, he reached to the side, fingers closing around the cool steel of his scissors.
Cammy barely had time to process what was happening before—snip.
