He climbs up on the bed until his body is above mine, held up by his elbows, his face hovering inches above my own. I buck beneath him, trying to get him away from me but it’s pointless. I’m trapped here with nowhere to go.
“You don’t get to run from me, babe. You don’t get to kick me out of your life now that I’m in it. We were made for each other, and I’ll keep you here for as long as it takes to remind you of that fact.”
“I need some space,” I say, if only for him to leave me to think of how the hell I’m going to get out of the cuffs and away from this house until he calms down so we can talk rationally.
He blinks, and the softness returns to his features before he leans down and presses a peck to my lips before climbing off the bed.
“Okay, sure,” he says cheerfully, and the way his mood switched so quickly has me a little confused. “You get one hour in here alone, and then we’re talking this shit out.”
He shoots me a smile before backing towards the door and I’m too lost for words to say a single thing before he’s through the threshold and closing the door behind him.
I close my eyes and try to center myself. I need to either figure out a way to free myself, or to persuade him to let me go. I’m not sure what his plans are, but I have a feeling that they’re anything but good.
Asoft moan escapes my lips as weight settles over my body and I blink my eyes open, only for a shriek to leave my mouth as I see Noah lying on top of me.
I wiggle beneath him, trying to get free but just like before, my hands are handcuffed to the bed.
Unlike before, my ankles are also tied to the foot of the bed.
Anger coils inside me as I stare up at him, trying to keep my face a blank mask in the hopes I can sweet talk him into letting me free.
“What are you doing?” I rasp, my voice still thick with sleep and I internally chastise myself for allowing myself to fall asleep in the first place.
Especially since the light in the room that’s coming from the windows tells me that I didn’t have just a short nap—no, I must have slept through the damn night.
“Waking you up the way I’ve always wanted to,” he whispers and rocks himself against me.
It’s then that I realize he must have taken off my jeans before securing my ankles, and that he’s also naked because I feel his bare cock move against me.
“And that’s with me tied to the bed?” I ask with a raised brow.
“No. Well, yes. But not just that.” He rocks against me again and I hold back my moan. “You weren’t supposed to wake up, love. You were meant to wake up with me deep inside you, filling you and fucking into you. You were supposed to still be sleeping when I first slid inside that tight pussy of yours.”
I try to hold back my moan again, I really do, but it slips out anyways and he grins down at me wickedly.
“You like that, don’t you, babe? You like the idea of me fucking you while your unconscious? Just like that time you got yourself off against me, only I wasn’t actually asleep,” he says with a smirk and my mouth drops open.
Is he fucking serious?
I tied myself up in knots over what happened. I spiraled in my guilt and regret for days, thinking that I’d violated him while he was sleeping.
Only for him to be awake the entire time.
This asshole.
“God, it was so fucking hot,” he murmurs before I can say anything. “I came too, you know? As soon as your hot breath hit my neck and you came undone, I came in my sweats, unable to hold back any longer. It was a damn miracle that I managed to stay still and silent. So fucking hot.”
Okay… thatiskind of a turn on, even if I did completely spiral over it. The idea of him coming from that, from me…
No, Gracie. He does not get to do this to you.
I guess it was just another of his many manipulations to add to the list. I clench my jaw so hard that it aches as I scowl up at him, not that he seems to notice me simmering in anger since he keeps going.
“I bet you’re getting wet just thinking about it. Does the thought of me lying there, trying not to move while you rocked yourself against my hard dick, seeking out the pleasure you deserved turn you on, love? Does the image of me struggling tostay in control and not pin you down on that sofa and fuck into you until you don’t know where I end and you begin make you hot for me?”
Fuck, it does. It really, really does and I hate the both of us for my reaction.
Just the idea of him lying still, trying to fight his instincts has me feeling—fuck, I’m so turned on right now. And so. Fucking. Pissed.
