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“No. No, it’s not wrong. It’s hot as hell,” he replies. Shoving his dessert plate away, he gets to his feet and comes toward me. “It’s hot for me because I’m the one who will be in control. I’m always in control. I could do anything I wanted to you, and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”
“I know that.”
“No. If you change your mind in the middle…” His fingers curl around the top of the chair closest to mine, the one my father just vacated, his knuckles white. “If I go too far and don’t stop once I have you where I want you, you’ll hate me even more than you do now, and you’ll never forgive me. And I can’t promise not to lose control.”
All the reasons he listed for not giving in are what I want from him. So, I try to make that perfectly clear, “There’s only one way you’ll ever get me in your bed, Lochlan, because I won’t ever go willingly.”
“Fuck,” he mutters a second before he lunges for me. The chair dips backward with me in it, startling me. I don’t fall to the floor, though. Lochlan catches me before I finish shrieking, then his lips are on mine. That’s when I realize he did it on purpose, to startle me, to get my heart racing. He likes when I’m afraid of him, of what he might do to me. But I haven’t been afraid for a while. Not really.
Once he pushes the chair away from the table, he lowers it back to all four legs, grabs my hips, scooping me out of it, and throws me over his shoulder. My hands fly out to grab hold of his suit coat to hold on, which is when he slaps my ass, making me yelp.
“Tell Owen and Flynn to cover my meetings and appointments tomorrow. They fucking owe me. Don’t even think about knocking on my bedroom door for anything,” Lochlan says to his guards as we pass them on the way up the stairs. One of them replies, “Not a soul will dare disturb you until you say the word, boss.”
Then we’re in Lochlan’s room, the door slamming shut behind us. When I try to squirm down from his shoulder, he smacks my ass again.
My back hits the mattress a moment later, then Lochlan is climbing on top of me, sending a thrill through me, all the way down to my toes. And especially in a certain area between my legs. His mouth covers mine, kissing me hard, his tongue insistent, making all my limbs go slack. I reach up to run my fingers through Lochlan’s hair, but he grabs my wrists and stops kissing me to pin them above my head.
He stretches out above me and then wraps a thick, soft cuff around my right wrist, then one on my left.
I try to pull my arms down. They only move a few inches with a rattle of the attached chain. Tilting my head back I see the chains are anchored to the headboard.
My first thought is hell yes, this is so hot, being Lochlan’s captive.
The second is…less fun.
“Ah, Lochlan?”
“Yes, princess?” he asks, sitting back on his heels, looking mighty proud of himself as he stares down at me chained to his bed.
“Have you…have you used these before?” I rattle the chains, not sure how I feel about them now knowing the ease at which he restrained me.
“These particular cuffs? No. While I won’t deny using plenty of restraints before, I had these installed in here for you the morning of the wedding. Which means, I’ve had to look at them hanging unused, taunting me every night that you’ve made me sleep alone. All I could do was fantasize about you in them, completely naked, mine for the taking.”
New. For me, he says.
And I believe him.
“There’s one little problem,” I can’t help but point out.
“What’s that? Too tight?”
“No. I’m not naked. Might be hard to get my shirt and bra off now that my hands are cuffed.”
“Mmm,” Lochlan murmurs as he pinches my left nipple and right at the same time through my clothing, making me squeal and squirm away as much as I can in the cuffs. “You’re not naked yet. Getting there is half the fun.”
Grabbing the bottom of my sleeveless top, he shoves it up to my neck. The air is cool on my stomach, revealing my white sports bra, along with the prize tucked down inside the front.
Lochlan doesn’t see it at first; he’s too busy teasing my nipples with his thumb and finger, pinching, pulling at them through the fabric, making me cry out. Only when he lifts the bottom of the bra up over my breasts does he see the silver knife slide out.
“Oh, what do we have here, dirty girl?” Picking up the weapon, he presses the switch, so the blade pops out. Now he chuckles, “You’ve been carrying it around inside your bra?”
“I wanted to make sure you couldn’t find it,” I reply truthfully. “And it made me feel safe.”
“Does it? Well, you can have my knife back, after I’m finished with it. I’m going to use it to slice your clothes off your body. Then, I’m going to do something really fucking filthy with it.”
As promised, he lifts my shirt in his left hand and rips the knife through the material, cutting through the collar, the right armhole, finally the left, until it’s no longer in the way. Next, he works on sawing the knife blade slowly through the center of my sports bra. Both of us are breathing heavier by the time it’s done. He doesn’t rip the arm holes, leaving it parted, hanging open on either arm.
I expect my horny husband to go right to pulling off my skirt and panties, but he doesn’t. No, he leans over me, taking my breast into his mouth. He suckles, licks, nips with his teeth. One side, then the other, taking his time, as if he’s got nowhere to go tonight. If he told the guards to have his second and third take his meetings tomorrow, then I guess he doesn’t have anywhere to go for a while.
