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My fingers are trembling as I clutch at Caelan’s shoulders. He can tell and doesn’t stop his deep, demanding kisses until I relax against him.
Until the only tremble running through my body is one of arousal.
No nerves. No going back. Well, unless I say ‘red,’ but I really don’t want to.
Caelan finally draws back, his eyes glazed as he grins down hungrily. “Did you want me to tie you up too? Wrists to the headboard, was it?”
I can only nod, dazed and out of breath.
He slows down for a moment, and that’s probably a good thing.Shit. I need to calm down.Just relax and enjoy what’s going to come, and not only be thinking about getting in his pants straightaway.
Caelan unzips my dress the rest of the way, helping me sit for a moment so he can slide the straps from my shoulders. He takes a long moment to appreciate what I’m wearing underneath—the matching black lace bra, panties, garter belt, and fishnets. “Cute,” he reiterates.
When he snaps the strap of my garter belt, I giggle.
They must go, though. Caelan needs access to my thighs. He slides the fishnets off, unhooks my bra, and pulls that away before laying me back down on the bed.
He kisses the underside of my jaw, teeth grazing against my throat. “I do appreciate this, doll,” he murmurs.
“Huh?”
“That you’d let me play with you like this.”
I grin. “I mean, it’s not like I don’t get to enjoy it too,” I point out.
His hands wander across my exposed skin, slowly exploring. He cups one of my breasts, gently rolling the nipple between his fingers and pinching it to make me gasp and squirm for a moment. “Not too many people would let a sadistic demon with a knife loose on ’em.”
“I don’t have much sense of self-preservation.”
Caelan snorts, and I shoot a heated, teasing grin back at him. “Shuffle up,” he commands, and I do so, shifting further up onto the bed so my hands can reach the bars of the headboard.
He kisses me briefly again, then vanishes from the bed. When he returns, two short coils of rope are in his hands, and he lays the ornate dagger that he seems to favor on the covers beside me.
“But for real,” I say, softer now. He’s leaning over me, focusing on tying my wrists rather than looking at my face, but I look up at him. “I trust you.”
“I’m going to hurt you.”
“I want you to.”
“Why?”
“Um… masochism?”
With both my wrists tied to the headboard, he finally glances back down and meets my eyes. “I meant, why would you trust me? Seems a stupid thing to do.” His tone is still light, pointedly dismissive, but there’s an edge of something odd, almost vulnerable in it. That means the conversation is in dangerous territory.
“Because I like you, and I care about you.”
“You really shouldn’t,” he says, voice hardening.
There’s a faint crackle of electricity, a sharp snarl in the back of his throat. Then the knife is in Caelan’s hand. He swings it down in a vicious arc, aiming for my jugular, and oh, fuck,fuck. I can’t fight human instinct. Fear and adrenaline flood through me, and my breath catches in my throat, but I don’t flinch or pull away. He stops barely an inch away, then gently presses the edge of the blade against my throat like a caress.
It takes everything I have not to shake, pulse racing.
“I could murder you. I could slit your throat just like this. I could cut your chest open and tear out your heart.”
My heart already feels like it’s going to pound out of my chest as it is. “But you won’t.”
“What if you’re wrong?”
