Page 61

I accidentally let out a whimper as I sink onto his hard length, my hips rocking on their own accord.

“Jesus Christ, Kira. That isn’t helping.” Roman’s grip around my waist tightens as he hisses between his teeth. “Can you just sit still for one goddamn second?” he growls out.

My lips curl with wicked satisfaction as I wiggle my ass against him. “Like this?” I say, feigning innocence.

I see the muscle in his jaw twitch as he glares at me, nostrils flaring. “Fucking hell, you’re going to get me arrested.” He tightens his grip around my waist, using his brute strength to hold me still, which only presses my breasts closer to his face.

I take the opportunity to waggle my shoulders, but he releases his hold around my hips and holds my arms instead. “You’re evil. Keep it up, and I’m going to have to teach you a lesson…” His voice is a low growl as he wraps a hand behind my neck and tugs me closer. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

My heart is hammering in my chest at the thrill of his threatening words. I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge. And I don’t intend to now.

“What’s wrong, Mike?” I walk my fingertips across his shoulder, my tone patronizing as I hold his gaze. “Is it too much for you? I was just following your lead…”

His lips brush over mine for only a second before he pulls away and lets out a frustrated growl, like it’s taking everything he has not to lay me down and fuck me right here on this stage.

As if they have a mind of their own, my hands move to explore the planes of his hard muscles, my heart hammering in my chest.

But my exploration is cut short when he catches my wrists. I let out a whimper of protest, making him chuckle under his breath. “You’re so cute when you think you’re the one in control,” he chides.

“I did try to warn you…” With one hand, he lifts my wrists above my head, holding them there while he reaches behind him and pulls out a rope.

I blink at him in shock, warmth pooling between my thighs.

When the hell did he get a rope?

“Do you trust me?” His eyes search mine, like he’s watching for any hint of discomfort.

I swallow a gulp, feeling a rush of exhilaration shoot through me at the thrill of not knowing what he’ll do next. “Yes.” I nod. “Of course I do.”

Maybe I shouldn’t, but the more I get to know this man, the more certain I am that he’d never hurt me. Too bad I can’t say the same about myself.

The smile he gives me looks like relief. I watch as he wraps the rope around each of my wrists, connecting them, then he loops the rope over my shoulder, making an X between my breasts. He secures my hands to the chest portion, so that it’s all one piece.

The rope feels scratchy against my skin. I test the restraint with a small wiggle, but it’s tied too tightly, holding me firmly in place.

“This okay?” he asks, checking the rope to make sure it has enough give.

It’s definitely holding me, but it isn’t uncomfortable.

“Yes,” I say, a little breathless. I’m normally not one to hand over the reins of control, especially in such a literal sense… But there’s something about the way he moves with such precision, like the rope is an extension of his hands, touching me and holding me…All the ruminating thoughts in my brain seem to fall away, and the world gets quiet.

After he’s satisfied with my hand bind, he moves to my legs, wrapping the scratchy rope over my knee with just a few easy loops. Then he pulls out a pocketknife, cuts the rope from one ankle, and moves to free the other leg.

The whole process takes no more than a couple of minutes, and his masterful technique tells me he’s done this enough times to have perfected his craft. When he reaches the end of the rope, he ties it off.

He wipes a hand over his face and sits back on his heels, admiring his work. “Goddamn,” he mutters, his usual warm brown eyes now solid black, pupils blown wide.

For the first time in my life, I find myself at a loss for words as I stare up at him, lying helplessly on my back, my heart hammering in my chest as I await his next move.

We stare at each other for a long moment, and then the music shifts, pulling us back. I recognize the chorus of Dirrty by Christina Aguilera.

Tilting his head to the side, his lips curl into a wicked grin. “You’re not so tough now, are you, baby?”

Before I can respond, he grabs the rope at my chest and yanks me across the floor like a goddamn puppet.

A surge of tingles shoots straight through my core, my pussy throbbing to the beat of the music.

Why was that so hot?