I don’t speak. I just wring my hands in my lap, all my defiance left back at the party, replaced now with the cold weight of fear over what I’ve done.
The drive is silent, tense, his presence a storm beside me. When we arrive at the estate, Hayden wastes no time. He pulls me out of the car, his grip firm as he storms me up the grand staircase, his pace unrelenting.
My breath catches as we reach my room. He pushes open the door, stepping inside with me before shutting it behind him. The air crackles with a heavy, suffocating darkness.
I’m scared. I’mthrilled.
He stands in front of me, gaze burning, furious, silent for a beat, before speaking in a voice low enough to terrify me.
“Imagine my surprise coming home to find you not where you belong.”
He exhales sharply, the anger in his voice barely contained. “I told you not to disobey me. And yet, it’s become abundantly clear you’re not misunderstanding me, you’re just refusing to listen.”
My pulse spikes. My lips part, but no sound comes out. I just stare at him, waiting, bracing myself for whatever comes next.
His face looks so angry and tormented.
Then he moves quickly and without grace, hurried to have his hands on me. His hand grips the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair, and before I can take my next breath, his mouth crashes against mine. It isn’t soft. It isn’t careful. It’s a punishment, a claim, a wildfire spreading through me in an instant.
It also wasn’t what I expected. I anticipated his angry hands, a spanking that would leave me in tears. Maybe it’s yet to come.
I gasp into the kiss, my body defying me, melting against him despite the anger in his touch. He swallows my breath, forcing me to take everything he gives, his lips bruising, his teeth scraping against my bottom lip, demanding more.
I reach for him, trying to shove his sports coat off, wanting to feel his warmth against my chest as I writhe against him. My nipples pebble painfully against my dress.
When he finally pulls back, his grip doesn’t loosen on the sides of my throat. His other thumb brushes over my jaw, rough and possessive, and his eyes burn into mine. "You want to play childish games, Martine? Fine. But don’t act surprised when I decide to remind you exactly who you belong to."
My breath hitches, my body still caged in his grasp. Fear and something wicked coils tight inside me, but I refuse to let him see it. As bad as I want to obey, I'm more terrified to bend. "I don’t belong to anyone."
His smirk is sharp as he shrugs out of his jacket, letting it fall to the floor with a thump. “You can tell yourself that all you want, but deep down, you know you’re lying to yourself. We both know what the truth is.”
Releasing my throat and shoving me ahead, he throws me on the bed, and I let out a gasp of protest as I land on my back. ”Hayden I—”
“Shut up,” he growls as he pulls off my heels, slightly gentler in his touch, the soft hands misplaced with his anger as he throwsthem to the ground. Pausing as he holds my foot, with calculated movements, he bends down and licks from my ankle to my upper thigh, making my back shoot up from the bed. I reach for his hair without thinking, my fingers digging into his scalp just as he throws me off of him.
With a glare, he loosens his tie, unbreaking eye contact.
I sit up slightly and try to pull my knees closer to my body, unsure of what he’s going to do with his now untied tie, but I can see the promise in his eyes.
“Don’t fucking move again, Martine,” I flinch at his tone as he reaches forward, across the bed, and grabs me, spinning me around to my stomach. Happy now that I’m on my stomach, he aligns my forearms crossed in a boxlike shape behind my back, so he can easily tie them together.
“Ass in the air,” he commands, and I suck in a breath, whimpering at the feeling of how tightly he’s tied my arms. It's forcing my breasts to be flattened painfully into the delicate embroidery of the white cotton and gold-threaded duvet.
Tears of frustration prick my eyes as I scoot my knees beneath me and lift my hips, turning my face to the side to look at him over my shoulder. It’s humiliating to wiggle into this position without the use of my hands, and it takes me twice the amount of time to follow his instructions. After struggling a bit more, my ass hovers in the air, causing my dress to fall forward, exposing my tiny silk underwear to him.
“Knees spread,” he continues.
My cheeks turn an embarrassing shade of pink as I follow his instructions, humiliated by the wet spot I know he sees on my now-exposed panties as I wiggle my hips left to right in an attempt to open my legs farther.
The thrill of sneaking out suddenly now feels worth his punishment. I tell myself I’m a captive here, but beneath hishard hand is a woman who craves it just as much. Craves how rough, and how taken he is with me.
I look over my shoulder at him, curiosity forcing my hand to see a terrifying man standing at the foot of the bed behind me. His face angles sharply in the low bedroom light, as the housekeeper left only the bedside lights on after turndown service. His hair, once perfect and slightly unruly, has become undone as he rakes a hand through it. I watch his chest rise and fall quickly, noticing that he’s just as affected as I.
It looks as though he’s struggling to contain himself, struggling to hold himself back from god knows what he’d like to do to me. What devilish whims will he act upon? What horrific acts will he put my tied-up body through? Will I crumble and, beneath my moans, tell him how desperate I am for it? Because I am. His control calls to me, and like a fool, I answer.
He sucks in a breath and reaches forward, his touch tender in comparison to the scathing look on his face. He looks angry to touch me, even though I can see his terrifyingly large erection pushing against his crisp black slacks.
I find his tender touch startling, and I gasp for breath, nearly choking myself from being without air for so long. I hadn’t realised until now that I had been holding it in fear.
