He knelt back on the bed. Naked. Waiting.
Her gaze traveled his body: broad shoulders, cut chest, the tight lines of control that didn't match the want on his face. His cock hard and flushed, twitching as if trying to guess what she’d do next.
Her mouth went dry. That same heat from earlier surged hotter.
"Lie down."
Killian slowly stretched out on his back.
Her eyes flicked to the headboard. Dark wood. Sturdy. Spindles spaced just wide enough
“Hands up.”
Killian's cock visibly twitched. His arms lifted. Wrists together, resting above his head.
April climbed onto the bed.
The mattress dipped under her weight. She moved toward him, scarf in hand, straddling his chest.
She leaned forward to reach the headboard. Her breasts hovered inches from his face, close enough he could feel the heat of her skin, see the tight pull of her nipples.
She looped the scarf around his wrists. Once. Twice.
Killian’s chest rose fast, breathing ragged. His eyes locked on her breasts, swaying just out of reach.
She reached for the headboard, threading the silk through one of the spindles.
His head lifted.
His mouth closed around her nipple.
Wet heat. Tongue and teeth.
The sensation shot straight through her. Her core clenched, tight and wanting.
She pulled back. Just out of reach.
Her nipple slipped from his mouth, wet and aching.
"Did I give you permission to touch?"
Killian's eyes snapped to hers. Wide. Caught.
Something dangerous curled at the edge of her mouth. “Bad boy.”
She finished the knot, gave it a testing tug. The silk held—taut but not painful. His wrists shifted, and she watched his throat move on a swallow.
She sat back on her heels, still straddling his chest. Looked at him.
CEO of Blackwood & Co.
Tied to his own headboard.
Her pussy fluttered around nothing.
“You need to apologize.”
“For everything you did today.”
