Page 46 of Obsession

If I let her go.

His breaths sped up at the provocative thought. ‘If’ was such a small word, but it held the whole world in its hands.

“I don’t have much choice while I’m here, do I, sir?” The traces of sarcasm in her voice weren’t lost on him, but his improving mood meant he didn’t blame her for them. Tucker recalled how it felt to be a prisoner. He hadn’t much liked the premise, either.

“No.” His voice lowered to a purr. “You don’t, but you should still be careful about how you speak to me, little girl.”

Her gaze widened perceptibly, her eyes searching his face for signs that he might be joking. “I thought…” Her words seemed to die in her throat.

“It’s okay.” His free hand rose to her face and gently stroked her skin. He reasoned if she found a mirror, a woman like Ella would think she looked a sorry state after hours without preening, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone look sexier. “I’m half joking, but keep in mind who’s in charge, little girl.”

“As if I could forget, sir.” Her cheeks flushed as she stared into his eyes. “I’m the one naked. You’re definitely in charge.”

She hadn’t forgotten then. That was pleasing, but he wondered if she knew how damn hot her answer sounded.

“I’m glad to hear it.” His cock throbbed to reinforce the point. “I wouldn’t want you forgetting yourself and ending up back over my knee.”

“Or tied to your bed.” Her eyes were like saucers, as though she couldn’t believe what she’d just said.

“Right.” His lips twitched at her stunned expression. “We don’t want that, either.” Although the blood rushing to his dick apparently begged to disagree. “Even though you secretly liked it.”

Tucker had no absolute way of knowing how Ella had felt caught in his trap, but her body language had conveyed her pleasure at certain acts. He remembered how wet her pussy had been when he’d had her tied to the bed and how she’d surrendered to his touch with what had seemed to be an intense orgasm. Evidently, she didn’t always loathe the treatment.

“What?” Her reddening cheeks revealed her true feelings, although her eyes flashed with her usual impetuous anger. “I didn’t like it.” Her breaths were coming in short pants as she tried to recoil, but the prison of his embrace held her firm.

“Liar.” He watched her grip tighten on the blanket, knowing how nude and wonderful she was beneath the fabric. “It doesn’t matter that you’re lying to me, Ella. I accept you hardly even know me, but it matters that you lie to yourself.”

Her expression faltered. “No one can like what you and Alexander have done.”

“I know,” he agreed.

“What?” Her brow rose at his concurrence.

“You’re right about that much,” he continued. “Your father and I are bastards. He should never have put you in this position, and a better man than me would never have accepted, but this is where you are.” His gaze darted to the sky, acknowledging just how dark it had become since they’d come out to the grass. “And since you’ve been here, I’ve been paying attention, little girl.”

She swallowed at that but offered nothing more.

“I noticed how your body reacted to my spanks and my binds.” He paused, waiting to see if she’d reply, but still, she only stared at him, wide-eyed and red-faced. “And a part of you enjoyed them, whether you like it or not.”

He supposed he could understand her reticence to admit how she felt, especially to him. It had been difficult enough coming to terms with his need to dominate. He couldn’t wrap his head around how he’d feel if the tables were turned, and he was the one who wanted to be tied up and manhandled.

“I don’t know about that.” She blew out a breath. “I’ve just never met anyone like you before, Tucker.”

That much he could believe.

“Sir,” he corrected, aware of how his cock grew as she heaved in air and made herself reply.

“Sir.” Her voice rasped as she met her eyes.

“Let’s get you back by the fire.” He rose to his feet, and before she had time to answer, she was back in his arms again. “Maybe you can tell me the truth there.”

Chapter Eighteen

Limits

Ella

Her heart pounded as he placed her back on her feet by the fireplace. She turned to watch him close and lock the door, conscious that he was still her abductor, yet also aware of the way he seemed able to make her feel, and boy, could he make her ‘feel.’ Ella couldn’t ever remember feeling so much before—so much heat, tension, and pleasure. She’d never felt more alive.

---