Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 59044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“You don’t understand how relentless men like this can be. He clearly thinks you two are meant to be together. People like that are sick. You have no idea what he is capable of.”
“That’s… the point of having bodyguards, right?” she asked, blowing on, then throwing back her espresso, before trying to rush past me.
“We’re not done discussing this,” I snapped when she tried to breeze past me.
“I am.”
A low growling sound escaped me, making her steps falter.
“Don’t walk away from me,” I said, a warning clear in my voice.
“Or what?” she asked, turning toward me, a smirk toying with her lips as she started to walk backward.
I knew her game.
She thought she could distract me with sex. That she could make me drop this.
Exhaling hard, I tucked the card in my pocket, then removed my jacket, and started rolling up my sleeves.
Moving backward down the hallway, her gaze grew heated, anticipating pleasure.
She was mistaken with that thinking, though. Because as much as I always wanted to fuck her, she wasn’t going to get away with misbehaving, with shutting me down, with trying to keep me out. That wasn’t how things worked with us. We shared everything.
She needed to be reminded of that.
Rolling my neck, I made my way down the hall toward her as she started to move faster, smiling.
Ducking down, I threw her over my shoulder, hearing her squeal, excited for some sweet torment.
Taking her into my room, I lowered her onto her feet.
“Take off your clothes,” I demanded, watching as she started to make a show of it.
But she wasn’t getting rewarded with my attention.
So I turned away, going to my drawer full of the goodies I hadn’t brought with me on the yacht.
I mulled my options as Scarlet did what she knew I was after. Her stripped. On her knees. Eyes down.
I took the kit over to my bedroom door, connecting the straps that created an over-door cross position kit.
Arms up.
Legs wide.
Standing in a stress position until her resolve weakened.
I walked back to my drawer, grabbing something else to increase the pressure.
Moving in front of her, I slid the thick leather collar around her neck, letting the attached chains slide over her skin, the chill of them making her nipples twist to peaks. Exactly what I needed.
Hooking my finger into the D ring at the front of the collar, I pulled her up onto her feet, then led her to the door, pressing her back against it, then slipping on her restraints.
I waited until she was immobilized to grab one of the chains, letting it slide over her nipple, twisting it into a tighter point.
Then, gaze on hers, I opened the clamp, then applied it, watching her eyes widen at as she realized my intention. I let it settle in for a second before closing the clamp around her nipple.
Her whimper of pain had my cock twitching in my pants.
But I ignored it as I slid her other clamp on.
With the way they were attached to her neck, if she tried to move at all, the chains would tighten, then they would pull at the clamps, increasing the pain.
Finally, because I knew it would be the ultimate torment, I reached for a blindfold, removing her ability to see if I was observing her or not, from being able to know how much time had even passed.
“I’ll give you some time to think about the letter, pet. When you’re ready to talk, let me know,” I said, then turned and made my way out of the room.
Honestly, seeing her like that—immobilized, naked, collared, and clamped—I wasn’t sure I trusted myself to make her finish punishment before I buried deep inside of her.
So I went back into the living room, tossing Hugh’s stuffed lamb across the room a few times before he tired out, before ordering some groceries to have in the fridge again now that we were back.
When that arrived, I put things away, let Hugh out, and silently made my way back into my room, observing Scarlet without her knowing I was looking.
She was struggling already, shifting her weight around on her legs, trying to slacken one arm and raise the other to bring some feeling back into each at a time, but the movement had the clamps pulling, making her hiss and forcing her to adjust her posture again.
Her breathing was quick, her skin pink.
Pleasure was still there, but it wouldn’t be long before the discomfort overtook her.
Only then would she fully submit.
Only then would she be calling me, ready to talk, eager for relief.
Giving her some more time, I grabbed a pair of pajama pants, then went into the bathroom to take a hot shower, washing away the travels, and some of the frustration about the cards.
I got why, at the beginning, she hadn’t said anything. She thought I was just another in a long line of annoyances in her home, watching her life from the sidelines.