Layne
Valentine stops at the door to his bedroom without any warning whatsoever, and I sail past him. He tugs on my hand, and the push-and-pull motion has me falling back against him with a giggle. He steadies me with a hand cupping my bottom, holding me close enough I can feel his hardness pressing against me.
“Once again, I find myself half feral with rage because of you.” He snaps his teeth as his hand comes up to cradle my face tenderly.
The opposing sides of Valentine’s attention are as obvious as hot and cold running water. But I’m not intimidated by his swinging emotions or his conflict. I want them. Plus, in truth, if he wasn’t sharing or wasn’t being so authentic, I’d be scared.
“I know.” I groan as he leans down to lick and suck his way up my throat, his breathing heavy against my ear.
He bites my earlobe hard enough for me to yip before he kisses the sting away. “You don’t have to walk in here,” he says, stepping back, so I can see him better. His eyes are blinding bluewith sincerity, but deep inside them, in that space only for me, I see him asking for my trust.
The message in his eyes is as clear as the river of scent he’s trying to drown me in—he needs to care and use. But he needs my trust for him to do it his way.
Even without exchanging bites and properly binding each other, much like with his brother and with Matteo, our connection is naturally growing stronger with each passing hour. His unspoken question has me answering with a hint of hesitation, and I choose my words carefully.
“I know you won’t hurt me, Alpha.”
He closes his eyes, a serene smile on his lips. There’s no denying how much he loves me referring to him asmy Alpha.
Valentine uses all the tools in his designation arsenal to express his relief at my words. The press of his presence is weighted, and he melds it in such a way that I feel like I’m being cradled all over. His espresso-laden scent sits heavy in the air, leaving a mark on my skin too. There is no doubt he owns me as much as I own him.
My craving for him skyrockets. I purposely shuffle on my feet, letting him scent my willingness arousal before I reach for the door handle, dragging him inside his bedroom and kicking the door shut behind us.
He cracks his neck, undressing with each prowling step he takes. “I’m tying you to my bed and owning your cunt until I’m ready to forgive you.”
His fingers have already pulled his tie open and are working through the row of buttons on his shirt while he stares at me as if I am his prey. And I am, in a sense. But, by god, I’m here with him willingly, so I’m not sure prey is relevant.
“Jesus, Val, you know I’m never going to stop getting into trouble if you make promises like that.” I laugh as I pull the topof my pajamas over my head. My voice is husky, and he groans at the sound of it.
My laughter gets cut off when he catches me by the wrist and uses his tie as a restraint. The moment he’s tied the silky cuff around my wrist, he snatches me off my feet. I go sailing through the air, screaming like a banshee the whole time.
I hit his mattress and bounce once before he’s straddling over my upper body. His eyes are like the midnight sky on a clear winter night, full of endless promises. He gives me one more dangerous smirk before getting back to the task, quite literally at hand. After threading the end of his tie to a post on his bed, he reaches over into his bedside table and comes back with more binds, laying them over my chest. The added weight of them has the tempo of my heart dancing erratically, but it’s anticipation and want causing the heavy thuds.
Valentine reaches for my free hand, his gaze back on mine as he sucks on two of my fingers, tonguing between them until I’m squeezing my legs shut to ease the buildup of pressure. He flicks his eyebrows up suggestively as he starts trailing his tongue down my arm. But it’s a distraction, a really fucking hot one, as he moves my arm up and over my head to tie against his bed, like he did with the other arm.
For some reason, I expected him to dip down and kiss me until I can’t breathe, but he shuffles downward, dragging his body over mine before he climbs off the bed and wraps one of his hands around my ankle, yanking my legs open.
My excitement shudders as I succumb to the small waves of heat crashing over me, my mind jumping to his mouth on me. I need relief and go to rub my thighs together, but he barks. “Leave them open.”
His command has my body freezing, my legs unable to move. My core, the anxious bitch, throbs, unable to wait. And then he ramps up all the sensations he’s pulling from me by the wayhis gaze inches over me from top to bottom. But this moment is most definitely a shared one, and as much as his lust ignites, mine flames his.
I want every goddamn thing I see in his eyes. I want every part of Valentine De Luca.
He doesn’t deny me, but he definitely refuses to be rushed. He teases without touching, undoing his suit pants and burying his hands in his boxers to stroke himself as his eyes glide over every inch of my body.
Valentine closes his eyes once he’s satisfied with what he sees. He groans under his breath, his hand speeds up, and he rocks into it until his lips twist into a dangerous smile.
“You should feel how hard I am.”
“Show me,” I beg.
He laughs, opening his eyes. Instead of touching me, though, he leans over and ties the ropes around my legs before securing them to the bottom of his bed. When he’s happy with how secure the binds are, he walks away from me.
“Valentine!”
He keeps ignoring me, switching the overhead lights off and dipping us into darkness. I nearly start to freak out as my scars from years ago threaten to tear open.
The dark engulfs and taunts me that this is fake, but Valentine is already there, facing my fears, whispering from over near the door. “Trust me.”
