He takes the stairs two at a time despite my weight, and kicks open the door to our bedroom. “You know what I like about wedding dresses?”
My answer’s lost as he throws me onto the bed, and I land with my breath knocked out of me.
His weight pins me before I have a chance to move, one knee on my ass, his hand on the back of my neck. With his other hand, he opens the drawer of his bedside table, and pulls out a knife.
A friggingknife. In the drawer.
How long has it been there?
He leans down, until his lips are by my ear, then answers his own question. “You only need to wear it once.”
The blade brushes cold against my back.
“Keep still, now, Tink.”
Thirty-Eight
Vicky
Alex slides the knife under my dress, its steel hard against the skin of my back.
I don’t breathe or move.
It’s instinctive to freeze. I trust Alex—most of the time—but I don’t want to be nicked.
I hope he’s not planning to cut me. If that’s on his list, it’s happening… it’s not about trust when he intends to do iton purpose.
Would that appeal to him?
The blade turns, pulling my dress taut, then the edge cuts through fabric. It’s that sharp.
My dress sags, loose.
“It had buttons,” I mutter. All Kirsten’s work undone in seconds.
“You already ruined it climbing out of my studywindow.”
True.
Wait… “How do you know?”
“Do you mean, ‘did I hear the loud bang of the window and the shutter hitting the wall,’ or, ‘did I know you would try to escape at some point’?”
Well, that’s me summed up in a line. “Never mind,” I mutter.
“Oh, the petulance!” Alex cries with mock drama. “So well named,Tinker Bell.”He leans forward, tightens his grip on the scruff of my neck, and speaks softly right into my ear. “You tried to escape me, and you were caught. Are you going to face the consequences like a good girl?”
I tremble against the bed. It’s not fear, it’s arousal—zero to ten in the blink of an eye. No, four to ten, since I was turned on as soon as he put me over his shoulder and spanked me… then threatened me with more spankings unless I married him… then pinned me.Whatever.It’s still enough that it’s hard to draw a breath, my breasts ache with need, my pussy clenches on nothing, and my panties are soaked.
God, I’ve missed this feeling.
“No,” I reply, as strongly as I can. And it’s not defiance, it’s not resistance. It’s begging him formore.
Before we’ve even begun.
He chuckles, like he sees right through me. Maybe he does.
“Good,” he says. It’s just one word, but it tugs so deep inside me that I can’t help a whimper slipping out. It’s muffled by the sheets, but I’m certain he stillhears it, because he chuckles again. That low, masculine, self-satisfied sound.
