He pushed the latch between his thumb and forefinger, opening the prongs. I realized a moment too late he intended to fit my nipple between the pointed spikes. I sucked in a breath and shook my head, trying to force any noise out of my mouth.
“This is a punishment, Elys,” he said. He centered one clamp over my nipple. “And if you simply ask, I will stop, of course.”
He paused and looked at me with one brow raised, as though expecting an answer from me. When the silence remained, despite my shaking head, he gave a half shrug.
The clamp bit into my nipple. I jerked, tugging on the restraints over my head. The prongs weren’t sharp, but the tightness made rivers of pain pull from such a sensitive place. Dray reached toward me with the next, and I tried to move away.
He put a hand between my breasts and pushed me more solidly into the wall. Coldness caught my ankles as more metal trapped my feet against the wall.
“You’re only making this worse for yourself,” he said, though the sparkle in his eyes said he enjoyed it.
The second clamp claimed me, and I held my breath while waiting for the pain to settle.
Dray stepped back. He looked me up and down, the artwork that had been lacking in the room now fulfilled by my body wrapped in his silver chains and pinned to the wall.
He strode to the chest of drawers, where a pitcher of wine and a single glass waited. Dray poured ruby liquid into the cup and studied me while he took a long sip.
Chapter Three
His gaze left a heavy feeling over me. I shifted beneath the bonds and clamps, trying to move as little as possible. Each motion sent waves of pain through the most sensitive parts of my body, and yet Dray’s hungry gaze brushed a tendril of confusion with it. His visual caress should not have made my core warm with anticipation.
Whatever betrayal my body held aside, I wished to draw a breath and scream for help. Though everyone within earshot knew a Reaper held me in his embrace – and none would come.
Dray poured a second glass and titled his head to drain the wine in a moment. He set the cup on the wooden top with controlled, careful movements, as though he didn’t hold me captive against my will and threaten me with his body. As though the straining cock between his legs didn’t betray his plans for the night.
I gulped. The Reapers’ ruthlessness held true to the rumors. People murmured that fear and terror followed in their wake, but I had never guessed the cause of their ruthlessness.
This man would lead me to my death.
His distance allowed the thought of death to resurface. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism to avoid the realities of my situation.
I wondered if Dray would be my executioner.
Fear drowned away any lingering sparks of pleasure. I didn’t want to die. I’d worked so hard to release my family from this curse and finally be free of the king’s decree, and all for naught.
I forced my gaze from the man before me and studied the tendrils of the shackles bound into the wall. Thin silver filaments disappeared beneath the hasty paint, hiding any hint of the durability of the bindings.
“I’ve seen that look before.” Dray set a half smile on his face and crossed his arms, enhancing the thickness of his muscled shoulders. “You’re thinking to test the strength of my restraints. Do you want to make two bargains tonight?”
He neared me, the sharp scent of red wine mixing with his smokey flavor. “If you manage to free yourself from my chains, I’ll give you a warm meal and a head start to run again.”
Dray stopped before me, a hand span from the silver clamps digging into my nipples. “But if you fail, I’ll make you come for me, over and over, until your wordless lips beg for me to stop.”
I focused on his emerald eyes. They held an eagerness I’d never seen before. More than simple desire, Dray looked at me with a need to consume everything I’d ever been and more, leaving me a simple shell of what I once was.
My throat tightened. If the executioner’s blade didn’t kill me, this man likely would.
The smart choice would be to do nothing. I would lose my chance for freedom, but I’d face less of Dray’s wrath than if I failed.
And yet… I couldn’t. If a possibility to return to my family and break this curse existed, I had to try. I already faced my execution. Little remained for me anyway.
“I see it in your face, Elys.” Dray put a hand on either side of my head. His gaze roamed over my lips and down across my bound body. “You know you’re going to fail, but there’s a fire inside you, and you’re going to try, anyway.”
Damn him, I wish his words didn’t ring true.
I looked away from his face, back to the bonds around my wrists. The tendrils disappearing into the wall didn’t look all that large. As thin as a buckle slipping into a belt hole.
Drawing a breath, I closed my eyes. I tensed my muscles in my arms, imagining ripping the pegs from the wall. The freedom would feel so good. Any head start Dray provided could mean the difference between escape and death.
