“I have no desire to fight you, Harlow. Easy,” he says, calm as a man defusing a bomb. “You’re safe. I just need a minute.”
“A minute my ass,” I bite back. “You don’t get to fuck me and cuff me like I’m some kind of?—”
He moves before I finish the sentence, crossing the room with that predatory grace that used to make my knees weak and still does, damn him. He stops beside the bed and braces a hand on the mattress, leaning in until his shadow falls over me.
“Like you’re mine?” he murmurs. And fuck me. That smirk of his sends a wave of heat to hit my clit. I’m a mess on a good day, but right now I swear I can’t decide if I want to bite, fuck or hit this man.
My breath stutters despite myself.
“I don’t belong to you,” I say, but the words don’t land the way I want them to. They come out thin, stretched tight over too many memories.
His gaze drags over me, slow and unfiltered. From my bound wrists, down the curve of my breasts, over my quivering stomach, between my thighs where I’m still flushed and open from him. There’s no hunger in his expression right now. Not the sharp, ravenous kind.
It’s worse than that.
It’s reverent.
“I know,” he whispers.
He straightens and turns away, and the loss of his heat leaves me colder than I expect. I listen to him move around the cabin. I can’t see what he is doing but I can smell the smoky scent of a new fire in the fireplace. A few moments later I hear the soft thunk of wood from the wood chest closing and the creak of old wooden floorboards beneath his boots.
Another few seconds and then I hear water running, the sound low and steady, and the air fills with steam and the faint scent of soap.
I swallow, my chest tight.
This is bad. This is very bad.
I’ve been trained to read rooms, to assess threats, to stay three steps ahead of men who think they can corner me. But Cipher has always been my blind spot. Even now, naked and restrained in a remote cabin in the middle of nowhere, my body still responds to him like it remembers something my mind is trying to forget.
He walks back into the room, and this time he’s the one dripping with water. I track the droplets running down the length of his chest with no towel in sight.
Oh, fuck me.
I gulp in air.
Oh, boy.
I inhale slowly and try to keep my eyes from following the slippery slope of his treasure trail, but no luck.
Sweet Jesus.
This man is all about those taut pecs, ripped abs and one impressive hard-on.
This is bad.
God, please don’t abandon me now and if you have it in You, please save me from myself!
I wet my lips, suddenly very thirsty for more than a sip of water.
An array of tattoos cover Cipher’s arms, chest and flare out to touch the sides of his neck and dip to kiss the V that leads south. I don’t know what they call that part on a man, but I want to lick and nip my way all the way down until I have his cock in my mouth.
I swallow tightly and remember I’m supposed to be mad. A massive wave of heat sweeps up my body, kissing my clit, nipples and cheeks all in that order.
And the man walking toward me with a hungry look in his eye sees the instant arousal wash over me from start to finish.
My core clenches and lets me know I have no control over the way my pussy hungers for the brand of darkness this man would unleash on my body either.
The mattress dips when he leans a knee on the edge and I tense, ready to fight with whatever leverage I have left.
