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He tosses it on the counter and dangles another one in front of me, dipping it between my breasts, then dragging the thick gold metal over each of my nipples until they're hard.
My core lights on fire. I whimper, grasping his thigh to steady myself.
He takes my hand and pins it on top of my other hand, warning, "You have a lot to learn, dear pet."
Confused, I lock eyes with him.
He orders, "Take a good look at your new collar."
I obey, studying it with curiosity. This one is more intricate, with different-sized rings around the entire band. It's at least three inches wide, whereas the other was maybe only two.
He takes my hand and moves it toward the collar, demanding, "Feel it."
I touch the rings, surprised to learn they aren't molded to the band when one lifts.
Riggs traces my jawbone, then turns my chin toward him. His dark gaze lights with fire. He asserts, "What's going to be even more beautiful is you, restrained in this, to whatever I choose, and begging me."
I swallow hard, whispering, "Begging for what?"
His lips twitch. "That depends."
Hot blood races through my veins. I dare to ask, "On what?"
He clasps the collar around my neck and spins me into him, studying me for a few moments, then finally replies, "On whether I'm punishing or pleasuring you."
My mouth turns dry, and I squeeze my thighs together. If his pleasure is like what happened in the shower, bring it on. If his punishment consists of spankings like last night, I'm more than okay with it. But I'm not telling him that.
He steps back and releases me. He picks up the notepad and pen, walks to the piano, and sets them on it. He grabs his keys and says, "Work on your music, Blakely."
I snap out of my shock, and he's almost to the door when I cry, "Wait!" I run over to him and toss my arms around his shoulders. "Thank you! It's my dream piano." I try to kiss him, but he turns his head, so my lips kiss the air. I freeze, and my stomach dives.
Why is he rejecting me?
He removes my hands from his neck and pins my wrists above my head, stretching me as far as possible. His face darkens.
I don't know what I did wrong, but my pulse creeps up, pounding harder and harder between my ears until I can barely hear the waves crashing outside, even though the slider door is open.
Riggs questions, "Did I give you permission to touch me?"
Confusion and hurt fill me. I stutter, "I-I just wanted to show you my gratitude."
Every moment that passes with him scowling makes me feel smaller and smaller.
I inquire, "Why are you acting like this?"
His features darken further. He threatens, "Don't confuse what happened outside with our agreement, pet."
Anger and frustration swirl within me. I blurt out, "What does that mean, Riggs?"
His blues turn to stone. He tightens his grip on my wrists, adding more pressure until I'm on my tiptoes. He grasps my chin with his other hand and leans into my ear, keeping his voice calm yet sharp, stating, "Review the contract if you don't understand what it means and take this as a warning. The next time you break rule seven, there will be consequences." He retreats, leering at me, assessing my reaction as if it's fun for him.
My insides quiver. How can someone be so passionate an hour ago and supportive of my dreams yet sound so hurtful?
He never flinches or releases me, as if daring me to cave and be the first to move. It continues for so long that my toes begin to ache. I'm determined not to show him any weakness, but my legs begin to wobble.
I glare at him, which only makes his sinister smile appear. He chuckles, then declares, "Your defiance will be your downfall."
"Meaning?" I seethe.
