Page 56 of Bleed with Me

Or so I thought.

She had no intention of backing down on her demand—quite the opposite. She dared to repeat it in a raised, impatient voice as if I were a disobedient child.

“You won’t see me kneeling and begging, ma vilaine,” I ground out, ignoring the gun pointed at my chest. “You have no means to force me to do your bidding. So, what is it gonna be?”

“Are you sure?” she asked, watching me cautiously. She had to notice that the playful part of me had evaporated. The man standing before her had nothing to do with the guy she encountered when kidnapping me.

But was she aware of the danger? Because I already pictured the end of this conversation with her on her knees, without her gun and mask, paying for turning my life upside down. I would fuck that sassy mouth until she wouldn’t be able to talk without feeling every inch of my cock for days.

“Oh, yeah. I’m very sure.” I smiled confidently, refusing to acknowledge my erect dick. The motherfucker thought it was a great idea to show our wife how excited he was to see her again.

“Don’t be surprised then.” She shrugged, her eyes jumping from one surface to another as if searching for something. That tiny moment of distraction gave me enough time to choose my tactics, and I took an abrupt step toward her.

She reacted immediately. Without blinking or hesitating, she fired, the bullet flying millimeters from my earlobe. I felt the heat of it, hearing the sound of it punching the wall behind me. Still, it didn’t stop me from proceeding. Once I set my mind on something, I had to get it. And now, my only goal was to find out the identity of this little menace.

I continued approaching her, ignoring another bullet that ended up on the floor. She aimed perfectly, millimeters from the target, but only fired warning shots. By now she had to understand there were only two outcomes: she shot me, or I reached her.

I was merely a step from her when the third shot hit me. The bullet scratched my shoulder, making me hiss more from surprise than pain. Instinctively, I covered the wound with my palm, blood slicking my fingers.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze to her, noticing her frozen posture and wide eyes. She miscalculated. That was my chance. An undeniable thrill skated down my spine, and I lunged again.

The distance between us collapsed in a millisecond. I reached for her arm, expecting to feel her skin and resistance when the metal snapped shut around my wrist.

The sound was unmistakable. Before my brain could catch up with the sudden shift in momentum, she moved behind me. The second cuff locked around my right wrist a heartbeat later, and she yanked me sideways toward the decorative column built into the bed’s frame. She looped the chain around the metal ring embedded at its base, something I hadn’t noticed before, and closed it with practiced precision as if she was doing it daily.

I pulled hard, my muscles straining, but the chain barely budged. My wrists were pinned together behind my back, my range of motion reduced to a bare minimum. The stone was cold against my skin, and no amount of strength was going to rip it free.

“What the fuck,” I hissed, twisting, pulling hard, testing the connection, but the metal didn’t give up. The pillar didn’t budge.

My eyes met hers, a victorious glint evident in her brown irises. She stood a few feet away with a lowered gun, her chest rising and falling.

“Look at you,” she said, smiling softly, tilting her head as she watched my futile fight. “Where is your confidence now?”

I stopped pulling, the reality settling in my chest with a weight that surprised me.

I wasn’t frightened.

I wasn’t even angry anymore.

I was… exhilarated.

Oh, fuck!

No woman had ever overpowered me. No woman had ever put me on my knees, metaphorically or otherwise, while staring down the barrel of a gun. Who the hell was she?

Letting out a slow breath, I shook my head, blood still trickling down my arm. But my pulse stayed steady, even as everything in me screamed that this was catastrophically wrong.

“Twice in less than two weeks.” My voice sounded too impressed, even for my liking, as I tested the chain once more. “You’re breaking records, ma vilaine.”

Her gorgeous eyes shone with pride and happiness. I would bet my last dollar that her smile widened under the mask. But instead of planning my escape or thinking about how to call Malin or Zyon to save my ass, I found myself eagerly awaiting what my unhinged wife intended to do with me.

Bloody hell! I was deep in this. Deeper than ever. Fuck! How did this happen?

“I’m starting to think that you like being chained,” she teased, taking a step toward me. “You reacted too slowly for a former cage fighter.”

My brows rose in surprise. Not many people knew it was me who participated in the underground illegal fights. Everyone believed it was Zyon because of his kickboxing history.

“How do you—” I started, but she swiftly cut me off.