Fifteen minutes later, the food is gone and I’m stuffed. Mac sure didn’t skimp on his end of the deal.
"Your two hours start now." He sets a timer, then tosses the handcuff key over, his shotgun pointed at me. "Unlock the cuff on the chair and put it on with your hands behind your back."
“Really?”
He grabs my hair and yanks my head back, hard enough the roots feel like they’re being ripped from the skin. “Keep running that mouth and see what happens.”
“Okay, okay.” When he releases, I do as he asks, my heart hammering up in my damn throat.
While Mac’s kept me safe in the past, our actual interactions have been far and few between. Maybe coming here wasn’t such a good idea.
He seems more surly than usual.
After my hands are cuffed together behind my back, he guides me through the living room and past the staircase to the secondfloor. His palm is large and hot against my back and tingles spread throughout my body, my skin heating all over.
Not sure why.
I certainly didn’t feel this way last time.
We head down a wide hallway with whiter patches on its walls from pictures no longer there, and enter a dark bedroom at the end.
Thick curtains block the reinforced windows. A massive bed sits against the opposite wall. Dark sheets. Thick blankets. Heavy metal frame at the head.
"On the bed, face down. I'll cuff you to the frame." His voice is deep and gravelly, like a bear that’s learned speech, and the rumbling tone makes my heart gallop.
I swallow hard, trying to push away all the different emotions swirling inside. "Are the cuffs really necessary?"
He laughs. "You forget I know you, Little Fawn. Last time I bent you over, you damn near stabbed me in the leg with your fork. So yeah, cuffs stay on. Don't need any extra holes in me. Already got enough of those in the military."
"Reflex." It had been, truly. He'd startled me, and I'd reacted.
But my stomach twists at those last words, at the fact he already has holes in him.
"I know," he says softly, laying his fingers gently on my waist. "That's why I didn't beat your ass. Now let's go. Time’s a-wasting."
His touch ignites a pool of heat in my lower belly, my dick already swelling. But I still can’t step forward.
This isn’t going to be a quick fuck from behind, and once I’m cuffed to the bed, there’s no way I’m escaping.
“Cal, get the fuck on the bed. Now.” He shoves me forward with enough force I stumble and land half on the mattress.
This isn’t good.
My legs start to shake, and my breath turns shallow.
But my dick is hard too.
I squeeze my eyes shut for a second before awkwardly scooting across the soft, thick blanket with my shoulders and knees.
While he’s fucked me once before, my face heats at being so exposed. My ass and balls are facing him.
But my dick is so fucking hard, my skin so damn sensitive, when I lay flat on my stomach, I have to stifle a moan.
The lights flicker on, then Mac clambers up behind me and straddles my hips. I can’t help but grind my dick against the blanket.
Why am I so worked up?
Pinning one of my arms under his knee, he undoes the cuff from it. After looping the free cuff around the metal frame, he releases the arm under his knee and moves my wrist up to the open bracelet, snapping it in place.
