She’s tossing and turning, the fine Egyptian cotton twisted around her thighs. Her T-shirt has ridden up to her waist, exposing the soft curve of her stomach and black lace panties. Her skin is flushed, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead.
I lean against the doorframe a moment longer, letting my hunger build as she shifts restlessly. We’re both going to be miserable until we get relief.
“Oh, princess. You can’t sleep, can you?”
She startles, her eyes flying open. “What are you doing here?”
Her gaze drags down my body slowly. I’m wearing grey sweatpants and nothing else, and even in the low light filtering through the windows, she’s drinking in the view. Her eyes linger on my bare chest, the tattoos winding across my ribs and shoulders, before dropping lower to where my cock is already half-hard and visible through the thin fabric.
“Looks like you’ve been restless all night.” I push off the doorframe and step into the room.
Her jaw clenches but she doesn’t deny it. Can’t deny it, with the evidence written all over her flushed skin.
I sit on the edge of the bed and the mattress dips under my weight. One hand lands on her ankle and slides up her calf, slow and deliberate. Her breath catches.
“Let me give you what you need.”
“I told you, we’re not consummating this marriage.”
“We won’t consummate anything. But you’re not going to sleep like this, Dinara.” I take my time with her real name, enjoying how it rolls on the tongue. “Your body is still worked up from the other night. You need relief. This is scratching an itch.”
She bites her lip and looks away, torn between pride and desperate need.
Finally, she gives a small nod, too worked up to form words.
I stand and grab the leather cuffs from the dresser. “But we’re doing this my way. Arms above your head.”
“What? Why?” Her eyes go wide.
“Because you want this, but you don’t give up control easily. So let me take it from you.” I move closer, dangling the restraints where she can see them. “And I like seeing you helpless. Spread out for me, completely at my mercy.”
She swallows hard, staring at the restraints. For a moment I think she’ll refuse. Then her arms slowly rise above her head in surrender.
The sight of it makes my cock throb.
I secure her wrists to the headboard, checking the fit is snug but not painful.
I move to the foot of the bed. “Spread your legs.” She hesitates, and I raise an eyebrow. “Don’t make me ask twice.”
Her thighs fall open slowly. I hook my fingers into the waistband of her panties and drag them down her legs, tossing them aside. The sight of her exposed and glistening makes arousal spike through me so hard my cock aches.
Her breath quickens as I fasten each of her ankles to the bed frame, spreading her wide. She can’t hide, can’t close her legs, can’t do anything except take what I give her.
It’s fucking perfect.
I strip off my sweatpants and climb onto the bed between her spread thighs. Her eyes drop to my cock and her tongue darts out to wet her lips.
“Eyes on me,” I command.
Her gaze lifts to mine.
I trail one finger through her folds, barely touching. Her hips chase my hand. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”
Silence. She presses her lips together stubbornly.
“Dinara.” I withdraw my hand completely. “Answer me or I walk out of here right now.”
“You already know the answer,” she says, breathless.
