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“Quinn!”
“That’s right. Say it, Red. Who…do you…belong to?”
As he flicks over my clit, my whole body quivers in unrefined lust. The cuffs bite into my wrists as I tug hard, needing to anchor myself as I’m coming and coming hard.
“You! I belong to you…Quinn Berkeley! I fucking belong to you!” I scream, the intensity of my orgasm bringing tears to my eyes, but Quinn won’t stop.
He continues assaulting my body with his skillful fingers, and only when I come again, screaming out his name and whom I belong to, does he stop.
My body shakes, my wrists are raw, and my eyes are filled with tears. But I’m beyond sated that I don’t even care.
Quinn kisses over my trembling lips and whispers, “That’s right, baby. You belong to me.”
I sag under his weight and realize that now Justin also knows who I belong to, which was Quinn’s plan all along.
Every part of my body hurts.
But it’s a good pain.
It’s a deliciously good pain.
I crack open an eye. My hands are thankfully unbound, and my wrists are covered in a white ointment.
Quinn obviously felt bad for cuffing me to the bed. But after the mind-blowing orgasms he gave me, I should anger him more often.
I stretch, my body protesting, needing more sleep, and I turn to see that it’s after six o’clock. The bed is empty, and I wonder where Quinn is at such an early hour.
My plan to get information out of Justin was ruined after my orchestral declaration. And if Justin had any doubt of whom I belong to, he and our neighbors certainly now know.
That was Quinn’s plan all along because no way in hell would he allow me within five feet of Justin alone. I should be pissed, but I’m not. We agreed that if he didn’t spill the beans, we would cut ties, so I guess last night was me cutting ties. And Quinn made sure Justin knew that—loud and clear.
As the bedroom door opens, I cover the sheet to my chest, but Quinn enters carrying two cups of coffee. He is epic. In the simple attire of blue jeans, a snug white T-shirt, and Chucks, my heart does a tiny flip-flop, and I realize I missed him, which is ridiculous, seeing as I should be mad at him.
I roll onto my side to stop staring and drooling, and Quinn chuckles.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t miss me,” he quips, and I hear him kicking off his sneakers as he lies on the bed.
I remain quiet.
“I brought you coffee,” he says, reaching over my body and wiggling the paper cup in front of my face.
Biting back my smile, I roll over to accept his offering. As I raise the cup to my lips, Quinn’s eyes drop to my wrists, and he flinches.
“Sorry about the cuffs. I know it was a little extreme.”
“You think?” I scoff, playfully rolling my eyes. “Where did you get a pair of cuffs anyway? Actually, I don’t want to know.”
We remain quiet, sipping our coffees, and I wonder what excuse I can use when I see Justin. Here’s hoping he’ll still want to talk to me after last night.
“He’s gone,” Quinn says, leaning back against the headboard.
“What?” I ask, turning quickly to face him.
“He split.” Quinn shrugs and reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a white bit of paper.
I unfold the piece of paper Quinn places into my lap, and the messy writing chills me to the bone.
Goodbye, Mia Mouse… Wish things could have turned out differently for you and me.
