His hand comes around my throat, his hardness pressing against the back of me.

I huff out another breath as our eyes meet in the mirror.

“Is this what you wanted, little mouse?”

I clench up, buzzing with sudden heat and need.

His pupils are blown wide, fangs sharp in his mouth.

I am nothing but prey now, caught in the predator’s snare.

But I chose to be here, to feel the terror of being used by someone more powerful than me.

I’m still wearing my party dress and Bran yanks the plunging neckline off my shoulders, baring me.

He still has one hand wrapped around my throat, veins bulging, running along his knuckles.

His other hand sinks to my breast and pinches at my nipple.

I arch against him, but he presses back, pushing my hips into the edge of the counter. I mewl around the lacy fabric stuffed in my mouth and wiggle against the restraints.

He pinches again and pain and pleasure mingle in my gut.

“If I could keep you like this all night, I would,” he says. “Keep you bound and gagged and just on the edge of coming until you can’t take it anymore.” His fingers trail over my chest, sending goosebumps down my arms. “I would fuck you until you were begging for release.”

My clit is buzzing, desperate to be touched. Any friction at all would do, but Bran takes his time teasing over the sensitive flesh of my breasts, then grazing my nipples just enough to force them to peak.

“Do you know all of the wicked things I want to do to your body, Mouse?” he asks.

I breathe hard and close my eyes, just imagining it.

“Ah-ah,” he says and tightens his grip on my throat. “Eyes open. You’ll watch me punish you.”

My pussy clenches and I moan, eyes widening.

Bran’s other hand dips lower and drags up the hem of my dress. I’m swollen and wet and buzzing and needy.

Touch me.

For god’s sake, touch me.

In the mirror, I watch as his hand disappears beneath the fabric. I breathe hard, anticipating his touch.

I part my thighs for him and he slides his fingers down my slit and I almost lose my mind.

I clamp my teeth over the lace.

“So. Fucking. Wet.” Bran’s irises are bright gold fire when I meet his gaze. He slips his hand out and brings it to his mouth, then sucks each finger clean.

The groan that comes out of me, watching him taste my desire, is feral.

With my bound hands, I try to reach between us to grope him, but he’s faster than me and grabs at the center of the binding and yanks me to a standstill.

“You don’t get to touch.” He lifts my dress up and smacks me on the ass.

I jolt from the sting and collapse on the counter, only for him to bury his hand in my hair and yank my head back up, forcing me to bend.

“Eyes on me, Mouse. Don’t disobey me.”