Page 74 of Read This Before the Villain falls in Love with You

My pulse jumps into my throat. I pull my shirt over my head, let it drop to the floor, and unhook my bra. I kick off my jeans without breaking his gaze. Luca doesn't blink; his pupils dilate until the brown turns almost black. When my back meets the cool sheets and I raise my wrists, he pulls open the nightstand drawer. Velvet cuffs click out on short leather tethers. He wraps the padded bands around my wrists, cinching them snug, and snaps the clips to the heavy wooden posts of the headboard.

"Too tight?" He brushes his fingers under the soft lining around my wrists, checking the hold against the bed.

"It's fine." I pull at the straps, feeling how firmly they hold me down. "You really came prepared."

"Don't move unless I tell you to. You don't come until I say you can." He traces a slow line down my chest, circling my breast without touching the tip. "You can talk all you want. You don't get to run things."

"Bossy jerk." I tilt my head back as his hand slides over my stomach, catching my breath in my throat.

He pinches my nipple with sharp, merciless force, dragging a ragged gasp up my throat. "Say yes, sir. From now on, that is the only way you address me. Say it, Nora."

"Yes, sir," I whisper, the foreign title vibrating against my teeth while heat floods straight between my thighs. "I won't move, and I won't finish without your permission, sir."

"Almost." He drops his towel and climbs over me, his heavy thighs framing my hips. He leans down and bites lightly at the curve of my neck, right over my pounding pulse.

He notes the shiver running down my back and whispers close against my ear. "You jump whenever I touch you here."

"Stop talking and just touch me." I tug at the cuffs above my head in frustration. "Hurry up."

He laughs against my skin, dark and quiet, and then his mouth is on my breast, sucking hard enough that my back arches off the mattress. His hand slides between my legs without warning, two fingers stroking through the wetness already gathered there.

Luca thumbs slow circles over my clit, his dark eyes pinning me to the mattress. "Dripping wet for me. Look at my little whore. So eager to give up all that big talk the second she is strapped down."

I arch my pelvis up against his slick fingers, completely abandoning my pride under his heavy grip. "I need more, sir."

"Stay still." His voice is calm and direct, leaving no room to argue.

"You're awful," I groan, but there is no real bite left in my voice.

"Wait for it, my whore." He pushes two fingers deep inside me, curling them until I arch off the bed and let out a broken cry. His thumb starts rubbing slow circles over my clit, making my legs tremble.

"Luca, please." His real name slips past my lips before I can stop it, gasping for breath as the heat coils tighter and tighter between my thighs.

Luca stops instantly. His fingers withdraw from my body, and his dark eyes narrow in cold displeasure. "What did you just call me?"

"I..." I swallow, my chest heaving against the tight leather tethers holding my wrists. "I forgot."

He hooks two fingers under my chin and forces my gaze up to his. "You forgot. I gave you one rule. Address me as sir. Since your mouth forgot how to follow instructions, your cunt can take the penalty. Spread your legs wider. Ten spanks on your pussy. Count them out, or we start over."

My stomach flips with a raw mix of dread and anticipation. I spread my thighs as far as the cuffs allow, trembling under the cold air of the bedroom.

The first strike lands flat and hard against my bare, swollen slit. A loud crack echoes off the headboard, and a sharp jolt of stinging fire detonates across my clit.

My hips arch off the mattress from the sudden sting. "One, sir!"

He lands the second blow without hesitation, striking the exact same delicate spot. Tears prick the corners of my eyes as heat blooms bright and furious between my legs. "Two, sir!"

"Louder." He strikes me a third and fourth time in quick succession. The stinging slaps leave my labia pulsing with blinding fire.

My bound hands rattle the heavy headboard as my core floods with wet heat. "Three, sir! Four, sir!"

Smack. Smack. Five and six hit like branding irons against my sensitized flesh. A desperate whine scrapes against my throat. "Five, sir! Six, sir!"

"Don't squeeze your thighs shut," he warns, his voice low and uncompromising. "Take your punishment like a good whore."

He delivers seven and eight with measured force, his palm stinging the swollen folds until my entire pelvis throbs. "Seven, sir! Eight, sir!"

The ninth slap is sharp and punishing, snapping across my clit and dragging a broken sob from my chest. "Nine, sir!"