Page 87 of The Roommate Subtext

“Good girl,” he practically purred, and the noise went straight to her clit.

“I don’t know what you’re doing to me.” She was panting and he’d barely touched her.

“Driving you wild, I hope.” He stepped back to really look at her. This position pushed her breasts forward, and she couldn’t hide. She had to let him watch her, and god, that was doing something to her. He began to undress.

Although they’d just slept together a few days ago, she felt like she was seeing him for the first time with each inch of skin he revealed. He stripped down to snug-fitting boxer briefs outlining his beautiful cock, then removed that last piece of clothing.

She saw him, then: not only Blake, but also the Scarlet Pimpernel; the man who wove delicious stories about her darkest fantasies, who teased her about tying her up until she couldn’t move, who made her edge until she couldn’t think straight. She’d been living with him this whole time and never known, and now that she knew, she wanted all of it.

“Are you going to tie me up?” she asked.

He tilted his head. “Do you want that?”

Maggie bit her lip. “I don’t know.”

He stepped into her space, and his proximity made her breathe faster. “We could see if you like it,” he whispered, so close his words brushed against her mouth.

Maggie stared into his eyes, their depths dark and commanding, yet still kind. “Yes,” she breathed.

“You don’t even know how perfect you are.” He cupped her face and kissed her long and deep, then broke the kiss to rest his forehead against hers. “Come sit on the bed.”

He pulled back the duvet and sheets, folding them neatly at the foot of the bed. Maggie climbed up and sat in the middle. She’d been standing in this room barely a few hours ago, wondering what the future held. She didn’t expect to be back in it this soon, but damn, she was happy to be here.

Blake pulled a small footlocker from his closet and opened it.

“Holy fuck.” Maggie stared into a crate of ropes, floggers, and all kinds of implements she didn’t recognize, all organized in neat rows. “You know how to use all that?”

“I do, yes.”

“Is there a binder for this, too?”

Blake laughed. “I could make one if you wanted.” He pulled out a bundle of soft-looking black rope. “I thought we’d try something simple and see what you think.”

Maggie nodded. “OK.”

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Of course.”

He smiled. “Cross your hands in front of you.”

She watched as he bound her hands, encircling each wrist before tying them together. He moved deftly, like he’d done this a hundred times before. He left the rope ends trailing. “How does that feel?”

She tried to pull her hands free and couldn’t, and a jolt of arousal ran through her. “Good.” What an understatement.

“Good,” he repeated. He placed a hand in the middle of her chest and pushed her back onto the bed.

She laughed in surprise, until he tugged her bound hands up over her head, stretching them taut, and her laugh became a strangled gasp as he tied them in place. In moments, she was bound to his bed. “This explains the type of headboard you chose.” She attempted to sound flippant, but it came out breathy.

Blake smiled. “You all right, there? Still having fun?”

Maggie nodded, body pulsing with need.

Blake stretched out next to her and brushed her hair back from her face. “I love this,” he whispered, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at her. Then he reached between her legs to circle her clit.

Maggie’s eyes slammed shut, pleasure exploding through her. It was the first time he’d touched her there tonight and she was already on fire. She couldn’t move, and that made it even better.

“You’re so wet,” he whispered. “You like knowing you can’t get away?”