Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 98566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Something was happening inside me, a thrashing, urgent heat that went straight down to my groin. It had started when he’d thrown me onto the bed, but when that hard grip closed on my wrist and he pulled me, my ass sliding across the covers, it doubled, trebled. It was the way he manhandled me so easily, the way he didn’t ask.
And then he started to wrap the ribbon around my arm, starting right up near my elbow and spiraling it all the way to my wrist. Just a thin slice of pale skin showed between each loop of glossy blackness. I watched, transfixed. It almost looked as if I was wearing black opera gloves.
Then he made some clever, looping knot at my wrist and tied the rest of the ribbon to one post on the four poster bed. I was trapped. The heat coiled and twisted, lashing inside me, the blood pounding in my ears. When I pulled, the ribbon spread the load all the way up my arm: I wasn’t just trapped, I was imprisoned, and that idea gave me a strange, fluttery feeling in my chest. I pulled again and felt the tightness all the way up to my elbow. It wasn’t painful, but it was firm. I can’t get free. The heat thrashed even faster inside me. It was like that moment on a roller coaster where the safety bar comes down and you realize you’re not getting off. I started to pant.
Then Konstantin was moving around the bed and that hard grip was on my other wrist—
Why am I letting him do this?
I knew the answer as soon as I’d asked. Because, against all reason, I trusted him. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.
He bound my left wrist to the other post, so that my upper body made a wide Y on the bed. I was gulping down air, now, trembling. Oh God...what’s happening to me?
He walked around to the foot of the bed and just... glowered at me. Almost as if he was saying this was my fault, that this was the punishment I deserved for tempting him, somehow. All I did was play with a cat!
He lunged forward and grabbed my ankle. My heart started crashing against my ribs. Oh God that was even better than a wrist. A strong man gripping your wrist might want to kiss you or arrest you but a strong man grabbing your ankle—Did I really just think that? And yet my face didn’t go red. I didn’t have to lie about what I liked, not with him.
He pulled me down the bed until my body was taut. God, he moved me so easily! And that gorgeous face, those merciless gray eyes glaring down at me as he tied me and spread me, making me ready for him. This was every secret fantasy I’d never admitted to, since I started watching him.
He started to draw my left ankle to the left, opening me—
I quickly crossed my legs, right over left, cinching them tight. I can’t explain why I did it, I just had to.
He scowled at me, but I could see the glittering heat in his eyes burn hotter, darker. He took one ankle in each hand and—
His forearms bulged and suddenly my legs were forced apart. I actually went a little dizzy with how good it felt: my inner thighs quivering, weakening...and then my muscles giving up and my legs flopping open on the covers, only for my ankles to be quickly bound in place with more ribbons. By the time I was a spread X on the bed, the heat inside me was spiraling out of control. I’d never felt so utterly helpless.
Konstantin moved around the bed, staring down at me, and every heavy footfall sent a shockwave of heat reverberating through me. I bucked and wriggled in response, and that made my wrists and ankles tug at the ribbons, and the feel of being bound turned me on even more.
The bed creaked and sank as he put one knee on it, then the other. He knelt there, the top of his head almost reaching the bed’s canopy, hulking between my pale, straining thighs. We watched each other for a second, his massive chest rising and falling under his shirt and jacket. I knew what was underneath it, now, could visualize every hard ridge of tan muscle, every dark swirl of ink. God, I’d watched this man for so long. I just couldn’t believe he was staring back at me.
He leaned forward and plucked at the ribbon that tied my bra together between my breasts. It slipped loose with a silken whisper and he knocked the cups aside with two impatient swipes of his hand. Suddenly, my breasts were throbbing in the cool air of the room, my nipples puckering and tightening as his gaze roved over them.