I bit back a huff that would have come out as a moan.
Flipping the satin robe up, he made short work of cutting the lacy bootie-cut panties from my hips. I squeezed my eyes closed, knowing what he’d find.
They were drenched.
“Pity, I would rather keep these.” He sounded…reverent.
That unholy tone made my core clench tight.
I could lie to myself all I wanted. But the evidence was there. This man turned me on. He knew the depravities I craved.
And, apparently, he wanted to give them to me.
His fingers on my face had my eyes snapping open. I glared at him, ready to curse him to the depths of hell. But opening my mouth was a mistake. Forcing the panties in my mouth, he pressed the tape over my lips to seal them.
“There.” He stood and stared. “My very own present, wrapped up like it’s my birthday.”
I spewed garbled curses at him.
“You’re so pretty when you’re mad. I almost forgot how much I liked this side of you.” He stooped, picked me up, and carried me across the hotel suite.
I caught sight of my fiancé’s unconscious form right before the bedroom door closed. There was something undeniable about this. The dominant male unapologetically outplayed the other, and I was the prize.
Heat licked along my skin at the idea of being claimed by the winner. There was something unhinged in the desire pulsing through my veins. If this was about control, I had none.
That realization shouldn’t feel this liberating.
The masked man dumped me on the bed. I rolled over to glare at him, unintentionally trapping my bound hands behind me.
A beam of light from the bathroom, coupled with the candles, gave the room a heavily shadowed ambiance. He took his time, studying my face. His gaze memorized me. It dipped lower, snagging on the pulse at my throat—and damn me, I wanted the beast to bite.
I was unable to tell if they were the deepest of browns or the lightest of blacks. Either way, hunger swirled in the inky depths.
There was something predatory about him. It wasn’t about capturing and claiming me, though that was no doubt part of this game. There was a deeper strain, one that I would call longing if I didn’t know any better.
I fidgeted under the weight of it. An intimacy hummed under the surface. There was no shaking off the tickling sense of familiarity.
He didn’t miss the way my nipples strained under the robe and lace bustier underneath. Stepping forward, he grazed his thumb over the peak. It was a featherlight touch, a stark contrast to the violence dancing through his dark eyes.
“Done fighting, hmm?” he mused.
I huffed.No!
“Do you want me to take you home or….” He skimmed his thumb across my nipple again. “The plan was to take you out of here so that he couldn’t touch you. But we could…stay.”
I fumed around the gag, not even sure what I was saying.
“I’m going to need you to agree to this.” His thumb stroked back and forth.
Would it be so bad? Tied up, I still had the choice. He was offering it to me.
I squeezed my eyes shut. The pressure of his thumb grew firmer. It sent tingles of pleasure zipping through my veins.
I want this.
The realization shocked me. It was a dark fantasy, something I secretly craved, but would never ask for. Somehow, he knew.
Opening my eyes, I stared into his—and nodded.
