Page 121 of Key of Kink

I stilled. “That would depend on the size. I mean, a bullet vibrator isn’t scary, is it? Whereas a Magic Wand? That’s big enough to give anyone the heebie-jeebies.”

His breathing hitched, and he gaped at me. “I didn’t realise seeing through walls was one of your gifts.”

I laughed. “Nice joke.”

Except Max wasn’t laughing.

I swallowed. “Oh God.”

Yeah, now he was laughing.

“I expect thrashing, kicking, swearing—not that I’ll punish you for any of that. Your natural instinct will be to move away from being tickled.”

I narrowed my gaze. “Well, it seems like you’ll be having a lot of fun. What exactly do I get out of this?”

Max smiled. “The endorphin rush. So… if it gets too much, use your safeword. I’ll be switching things up to keep you off balance.” He glanced at my T-shirt. “Clothes off. All of them.”

I stood and began to undress. Max watched, his gaze moving slowly up and down my body, smiling when my dick sprang free of my briefs.

“Someone’s eager.”

I snorted. “But not hopeful.” I gave it a light smack. “I told it as much but as usual, it has a mind of its own.” I bit my lip. “Can the condemned man make a last request?”

“Sure. Whether I’ll agree to it remains to be seen.”

“How about a kiss before the torture really gets started?”

I told myself I imagined the catch in his breathing.

Max rose and closed the gap between us. His chest was warm against mine, and the smell of him filled my nostrils, earthy and far too unsettling. Our mouths met, his hands cradling the back of my head as he deepened the kiss, and I couldn’t hold back the whimper that tumbled from my lips.

“Sometimes I think I could come just from you kissing me,” I murmured into the kiss.

Max’s raw chuckle vibrated through me. “I love it when you give me ideas.” His voice was low and rough. Then his hand landed with a loud smack on my arse. “Bedroom.”

Apparently, that was all the foreplay I was going to get.

I laughed when I saw the bed. “I might never have been a Boy Scout, but I’ll bet you were.”

All the bedding had been removed except for the pillows, and there were ropes attached to the four posts, each ending in a cuff. On the bedside table lay a bottle of baby oil, a hairbrush, a peacock feather, a Wartenburg wheel, and⁠—

“Are those… banjo picks? There were about ten of them, made from a brass-coloured metal, all with rounded edges.

“Correct.” Max held up his hands. “I keep my nails short, which is no good for torture—I mean, tickling.” He grinned. “And in case you missed it…” He pointed to the other side of the bed, where the white Magic Wand sat.

I arched my eyebrows. “Are you kidding? Who could miss that?”

Max patted the bed. “On your back. Will you be comfortable with a pillow under your hips? It won’t make your back ache?”

“It’ll be fine,” I assured him. I lay down, and Max fastened my wrists and ankles into the cuffs. I tested them, pulling against them. They gave me a limited range of movement.

I had a feeling I was going to need that.

Max sat on the bed beside me. “Comfortable?”

I tugged at the restraints. “Perfectly.” My heartbeat thudded.

What will he do first?