“Nothing to say, smart mouth?”
“I’m not interested in whatever kinky shit you picked up from your club girls.”
Another derisive snort. “You’re the only one my dick gets hard for. Besides, you think any of them have the time or imagination for this? It requirestrust. On both our parts.”
“How can you trust me?”
He stops and considers my question. But I don’t give him a chance to come up with anything. It’ll be a lie anyway. “I don’t like this,” I whisper. “Please. Let me go.”
He moves in closer, searching my face, staring into my eyes. I hate it because I feel way too open to him like this.
“See, your mouth says one thing. But your eyes are dilated.”
“It’s dark in here.”
He brushes his hand over my tank top, just grazing the tips of my breasts, and I barely hold back a moan. “Your nipples are hard as diamonds.”
“I’m scared.”
He pauses, staring at me again as if trying to decide if that’s true. It is. I’m terrified that he’s right.
His thumb brushes over my nipple, and my body disobeys me by responding like a greedy little whore. Arching my back, gasping, hips rising.
“Mmm.” His hand trails lower, stopping to rub between my legs. “Your panties are soaked,” he informs me in a low, bedroom voice. “What’s your excuse for that?”
“Oh God.” My head falls back as he rubs lightly, then a little firmer, until I’m chasing his fingers. Abruptly, he stops and hooks his hands into my shorts and drags them down my legs.
“No!”
“Shh.”
He reaches down to one of the ankle restraints but stops and gives me a stern look before snapping it open. “Don’t you dare kick me, Kady.”
It sounds more like a challenge, though.
I raise my foot in a half-hearted attempt to kick him, and he wraps his hand around my ankle. “I said no.”
He works my shorts off one leg, secures me to the bed, and then releases my other leg.
Now I only have a tiny pair of sheer lace panties and a skimpy tank top covering me. It’s awkward, uncomfortable, excruciating. Why am I so damn hot?
“Perfect,” he mumbles, stroking his chin. “You have no idea how beautiful you are. All spread out for me.”
“You’re a sick fucker.”
“And you’re my medicine.” He picks the knife up again. Just holding it. Not a threat. Not really.
“Please don’t hurt me.”
“I’d never hurt you.”
He slides the knife under the elastic band at my hip. “No,” I moan. “Please. Don’t.”
The cold metal stops moving. He doesn’t remove it. “Kady. Look at me. If you…if you really want me to stop, say bananas.”
I tilt my head to glare at him. His words...stun me. Shock me. I take him in. How sincere and serious he is. Blaise has loved and protected me for a long time. He knows me. Knows things I apparently don’t know about myself.
He’d never hurt me. No matter how much I hurt him.
