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“Oh my god!” I shriek. “Stop, stop!”
He releases it again, keeping it just tight enough for me to feel its presence and keep me turned on, but not enough to hurt.
“Pretty clear, isn’t it?”
I nod, panting, as I watch him play with me some more. There’s a small diamond dangling from the clamp, and I can’t believe this is actually happening.
He is batshit crazy.
He lets the dress fall, but I’m still shaking from the feeling of the clamp.
“We really have to go.” He turns to the vanity, opens the velvet box, and grabs two bracelets inside.
“Am I a fucking Christmas tree, Nate? Are you done decorating me yet?”
He pinches his lips, clearly wanting to laugh at my predicament. “The last time you were allowed outside, you tried to run. I’m not taking any risks, baby. Show me your wrists.”
I narrow my eyes at him as I present my wrists. He secures one bracelet, then the other. There’s something weird on them, like an extra clasp just dangling on the side.
“Oh…fuck off,” I hiss with fury.
“Turn around.”
“You can’t be serious.”
Grabbing both my wrists, I feel him attach the two bracelets together at my back. “I’ll undo them the second we arrive at the town hall.”
“These are just fancy handcuffs!”
“Indeed, they are. And they look beautiful on you.”
“This is too much,” I say, my voice dropping. “It can’t carry on like this, Nate.”
“Only until I feel I can trust you again.”
I clench my jaw, grit my teeth, and stay quiet. There’s nothing to say anyway. No way to win.
The ride is uncomfortable with my hands cuffed behind my back, but nothing beats the fact that there’s a clamp pinching my clit. This is going to be a long night.
True to his word, Nate undoes the delicate cuffs the second we park in front of the town hall. They’re just two normal diamond bracelets now, and by the time we’re going up the stairs, what I feel the most is the soft satin against my aching nipples.
Someone is waiting at the top of the infinite stairs, right by the entrance, and while I recognize the long bleached blonde hair, I can’t process the outfit.
“Emma?”
She’s wearing a long, white gown that hugs her petite body perfectly, and the delicate threads of blue sewn into it make her eyes pop.
She turns to us, looking at the time on her phone. “You guys are late. I left the house twenty minutes ago.”
“Why are you talking about my house like you have any right to stay there?” Nate asks bluntly.
She rolls her eyes. “You’re the one who asked me to come here. I’m here.”
“Why?” I ask, understanding there’s something I’m not aware of.
“Someone has to keep an eye on you while I talk with people. I might get distracted, and who knows what you’ll do then.”
“I am not trying to escape,” I grit out. “I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”
