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I flopped back down onto the bed, throwing my arms up above my head. “Your clothes better be off the second you step through the door.”
“It shouldn’t take me more than a half hour, less than that if the guy is good.” He crawled over the top of me to give me a quick kiss. “And then I’ll be right back up here and crawling in here with you. Clothes off in the hallway, even.”
I laughed, swatting his ass as he moved off the bed.
A few minutes passed after Damen closed the door and I sat up, looking around. Sunlight streamed in through the window he’d pulled the curtains open on. My arms lifted straight over my head and I stretched to my left, then right. Damn, but he’d put my body through the paces in the last twenty-four hours.
Every one of my muscles raw in a good I’d-been-thoroughly-fucked way.
Shower. A shower would be nice. Clean and ready for round eleven with Damen. Or was it round twelve? He definitely edged on the line of insatiable.
Grabbing my titanium cuff from the bar top and clasping it in place—without Damen in the room, I felt oddly naked without it on—I padded into the bathroom, turning on the water to let it warm in the wide, multi-jet shower lined with blue-green Murano glass tiles. At the sink, I brushed my teeth, looking in the mirror as I scrubbed. My cheeks flush, my hair was ruffled to such an extreme that only long, quality minutes with conditioner would help. Quite evident that my body had been a toy many times over the last day.
I needed to save Damen from certain peril more often, for he’d been voracious on making me come again and again and again.
Halfway through my shower, with suds all over my body, hands slid in from behind me and slipped long and languid through the bubbles over my belly. I smiled to myself, my eyes closing as I leaned back into Damen under the waterfall from the showerhead above.
Right on time.
And he still had his shirt on.
I let Damen play with the slick of the suds on my skin for long seconds before I spun in his arms.
Fuck.
Cletus.
Not Damen.Cletus.
Cletus with his fucking hands all over my naked body.
My scream cut off as he shoved a soaked washcloth into my mouth, balling it thick, the water from it streaming down my throat and choking me.
Battling for air as I fought to get out of his grasp, I swung with my elbows, my knees, anything sharp that could gain leverage against his hands pawing at me, but I was slippery as fuck.
Crunch. An elbow right into his mouth and it knocked his head back. Just enough space to slip out of his grip.
My wet feet sliding crazy on the tile, I ran out into the main room only to be blocked by four men in the hotel’s bellboy uniforms.
I dropped, trying to slide past them, but one caught my arm.
Opposite him, one caught my ankle.
My other wrist.
My last free leg.
Pulling me wide in all directions, they slammed me to the ground, pinning me down. Heavy shackles went onto my wrists, my ankles, locking me away from any fight I could mount.
A sheet landed over me, and they rolled my body in it, flipping me over and over. Then they did it again with something heavier—the comforter from the bed.
I squirmed, thrashed, even though I knew it was no use.
My body picked up. Moving fast. Doors slamming.
Everything I had been fighting for with Damen—gone. I’d had it and it was gone before I could even sink my fingers into it. Fucking yanked out of my grasp the second I finally had it.
Fucking fates.
