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His hand goes to the strap at my head. The visor lifts from my face, and the colors disappear.
Blackness swallows everything so completely that my breath stutters.
“Fionn.” I push up on one elbow, my body shaking from the need begging to be released.
“Stay there.”
The order stops me halfway.
There’s a noise, and a quiet breath leaves him, controlled and uneven at the same time.
Then light slices through the dark as the beam from his phone spills across the floor, moving over the room in a narrow sweep.
The drawing room comes back in pieces. Heavy curtains. Mahogany furniture. A marble fireplace and him.
Fionn drags his visor over his head and drops it onto an armchair, then walks across the room.
He opens a cabinet near the wall and takes out a lighter. The flame snaps alive with a flinty click. One wick catches, then another, and the shadows begin to flicker around us.
His hair is disordered, his inked chest rising when he turns to face me.
He walks back across the room, candlelight moving over him with every step, and I stay exactly where he left me. The light makes it more real now because I can see exactly whose house I am naked in.
“You said you wanted it,” he says.
My throat tightens. “I did.”
Then his attention drifts toward the windows where heavy curtains are pulled shut against the night, and beside them, a pair of thick braided tiebacks hang from brass hooks.
He crosses to the windows, and by the time he grabs one of the tiebacks, my body understands how much trouble I’m in.
“Fionn.”
“Is that your warning or your permission?”
“Depends what ya plan to do with that.”
He lifts the tieback from its hook, and the tassels slide over his knuckles. “You already know.”
My stomach tightens.
He draws the cord through his hand as he walks back to me, the braid thick in his fist as he lowers beside me.
“Turn over,” he says. “Let me see how pretty you look tied up for me, my little wild thing.”
The my in it hits before I can defend against it, going straight between my thighs.
Despite that, I’d rather not let him believe he’s the one calling the shots. So, I hook my foot behind his calf and pull.
Fionn catches himself with one hand on the rug, a low laugh leaving him as his body comes over mine.
“Still want to fight?”
“You said to turn over.” I drag my nails down his ribs. “You didn’t say I had to make it easy.”
“That’s why I didn’t ask.”
I shove at his shoulder.
