Chapter Eighty-Seven
Air kisses my skin as he unfurls his body, the phantom of his touch shimmering along my spine. I’m so caught up in the promise of this moment, it takes me a beat to realise he’s stepped away, the mirror reflecting every knot of muscle in his naked back.
Opening the armoire, he takes something out as he asks, ‘Do you remember you’re safe word, kitten?’
My safe—‘What?’
Closing the door, he speaks again. ‘Khallas. Remember that and—and I’ll stop. I promise.’
I’m not sure which of us he’s trying harder to convince. And I knowkhallasis Arabic for stop, but a safe word? I’m familiar with the concept—I’ve read plenty of those kinds of books. Books where the heroine may or may not need protecting from her counterpart and, sometimes, from herself. What exactly does he have planned that I might need him to stop? What have I started here?
My heartrate increases as he stills by the bed, gathering the scarf he’d worn moments earlier. Moving to stand behind me once more, his jaw is resolute. He places something on the seat of the chair between my legs, his skin hot against mine as he leans over, looping the silk through the crown of the chair.
‘Does this chair belong to the hotel?’ I’ll be asking questions about the wallpaper next—anything to drown the pounding in my chest.
Kai’s laugh is filled with a lazy kind of mocking as he lifts my hands closer together before threading the silk between them. ‘Want to get one for home,habibti? I know how much you like to be strapped down.’
Such a beautiful, detestable man.
‘W—what was that you put on the chair?’ I tilt my head over my shoulder, unable to see from this angle.
‘Eyes front.’ His gaze flicks to the mirror, shining dark gold. ‘Nervous?’
‘No.’ My answer is immediate and thick sounding, the hedonistic mixture of excitement and alarm dampening my skin. ‘Should I be?’ He shrugs lightly; a non-answer. ‘What are you going to do to me?’ From thick to a breathless encouragement; Kai straightens behind me with a languid sort of grace.
‘Anything I want, wasn’t that it?’
My heart flutters wildly; the look on his face one of absolute seriousness. As he unzips his pants, he spreads my knees wider with his own, before lifting the point of my heel from the ground and encouraging me to place my knee on the seat. Tied to the crown, with my knees spread wide and my arse sticking out, I feel exposed. Vulnerable. Alive.
The atmosphere between us feels all at once heavy and suspended; a charge of an electrical-like current snapping between us, ready to burn.
‘So you lied about the photographs.’
My heart beats twice in rapid succession, immediately righting itself as I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
‘And you didn’t tell me you saw him.’ Essam; neither of us are willing to bring his name into this.
I nod again.
As fast as lightening, his hand reaches out, slapping my right butt cheek, the sound ricocheting around the room.
‘Answer me,’ Kai demands
I realise I’ve bitten my lip—whether from surprise or a reluctance to cry out I’m not sure. I push them together as I swallow, trying to control my emotions, the urge to cry.
‘I did. Out—outside the house. Twice. I saw Sofia, too.’
‘Together?’
‘No. With your mother. She—I didn’t speak to her.’
He nods once, the motion suggesting our almost meeting as inconsequential.
‘What did he say? What did my cousin want?’
‘To hurt you,’ I answer softly. ‘Through me.’
‘He tried to blackmail you? He wanted to fuck you in exchange for keeping the pictures quiet.’
