Mac trots back downstairs. “Coast is clear,” he says. “You were a good girl staying there.” He sobers when he reaches the landing, leans a hip against the rail, and beckons to me.
“Now come here, Bryn.”
I walk to him tentatively, dragging my feet, for I have no idea what he will do when he actually has me. But when I reach him, he merely takes my hand and leads me up the stairs. “You’ll like what’s up here.”
My God, his “flat” spans three full floors. The massive living area on the first floor has the kitchen and an open dining area with the fireplace. The second floor has two bedrooms, and even a quick glance shows me there’s an ensuite.
“What’s on the third floor?” I ask.
He gives me a teasing shrug. “You’ll see.”
We walk up another flight of stairs that takes us to the third floor. I cover my mouth with my hand, awestruck.
There’s a wood-burning stove, comfortable-looking loveseats and chairs, books scattered about, and a door that leads to a patio and garden on the terrace, lit by the moonlit sky. There’s another toilet, a small one, as well as a dorm-sized refrigerator and a wooden wine bar.
He tugs me along with him and reaches for the handle of the door that leads to the rooftop.
“It’ll be cold out there, won’t it?”
He shakes his head. “You’ll see.”
He picks up a remote on a small table outside the door, hits a button, and an electric fireplace comes to life outside.
“My God, Mac, how can you ever leave this place to go back home?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “When you meet my family you might understand better.”
“So let me get this straight,” I say, giving him a teasing look. “You’ve got an amazing family, you’re clearly filthy rich, and you’re… well, really bloody hot. Is there anything wrong with you, Mac Cowen?”
He grins, prowls even closer, and whispers against the shell of my ear, “I’m kinky as fuck, bonnie lass. I like my woman to be submissive and eager, and I have no fucking hard limits.”
I place my hand on his shoulder to steady myself, since I’m trembling with anticipation and a little nervous at the same time.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He reaches for my chin and tips my face upward, his eyes holding mine for a moment before he kisses me. Hot and sultry, his lips glide over mine with a possession that makes me tremble. I’m panting when he lets me go, and he leads me onto the terrace.
I’m not going to stop him. No matter what he does, no matter what he says, I’m going to let him have his way with me. I tell myself it’s because I want to do what I promised my father, but I know that’s only an excuse.
I want to see what he’ll do to me. I want to see where he’ll take me. I want to be pushed to my limits, taken beyond my safe little bubble.
I want to know the thrill of the chase and the dance of surrender.
Fire flickers in a sphere-shaped electric pit in the center of the patio, surrounded by chairs and cushions. I shiver when the wind picks up, and he reaches for a soft, furry blanket folded across one of the chairs.
“C’mere,” he murmurs, draping it around my shoulders. The night air is crisp and clean, and it feels so invigorating to be out here under the stars. When we draw closer to the fire, I’m no longer chilled.
“Nohard limits?” I ask, as he sits in an armchair and tugs me onto his lap. I like sitting here. I want to lay my head on his shoulder, steady myself with my palm on his chest.
“Fine, then, that would be a lie,” he says soberly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. He frowns before he answers. “A third would be a hard limit for me.”
“A third?” I ask curiously, like a damn innocent. What’s he talking about? I realize what he means half a second later, and my cheeks flush with color.
Jesus.
“Another partner,” he says with a trace of amusement in his eyes.
“Right.” I take this opportunity to tease him, because I love how he reacts when I tease like this. I think of another man or woman here with us, and I reject the idea as firmly as he did.
