Page 36 of False Confidence

Jazz was intrigued enough to do as she was told without protest, but that didn’t stop her from taking her time, crawling up the bed and giving Liam a good look at her ass before lying on her back and spreading her legs.

He watched her until she was settled, his hungry gaze roaming over her body. She raised her arms above her head, arching her back and stretching her body. With the way Liam was looking at her, she should probably have stretched before lying down.

Liam kept his clothes in his giant walk-in closet, so she’d suspected the dark oak dresser in his bedroom was full of the toy collection he’d mentioned. He confirmed her theory when he reached into the bottom drawer and withdrew a set of four padded cuffs. Jazz swallowed, anticipation mingling with that little touch of fear she loved so much when she was tied up.

“Is this okay?” he asked, wrapping one cuff around her ankle.

“Yeah.”

He fastened the buckle and repeated with the other ankle. Turning back to the drawer, he withdrew two pieces of silver chain with clips on each end. He clipped a chain to each of the cuffs before crouching down. Even with the mirror above her, Jazz couldn’t see what he was doing, but she felt it when the other side of the chain was attached to the bed. After clipping the second chain to the bed, Liam ran a soothing palm over her calf.

“Is that comfortable? I can loosen them.”

Jazz tested the chains, trying to draw her legs together. There was very little give, no matter how hard she pulled on them. Just how she liked it.

“It’s good,” she promised, and Liam kissed her knee before standing and following the same routine with her wrists. The chains were already attached to the headboard, tucked out of sight behind it, and the restraints were just as unforgiving as those holding her legs apart, leaving her entirely at Liam’s mercy.

She watched him, her blood thrumming in anticipation, as he unbuckled his belt and slid it through the belt loops of his pants. He made quick work of undressing, and Jazz let out a desperate sigh at the sight of his cock. God, she needed him inside her. She didn’t even care about finishing anymore, she just needed to feel—“What’s that?”

She tried to sit up to see what Liam was pulling from the middle drawer of the dresser, but the restraints held her down. A curse slipped out of her and Liam turned back just in time to see her pulling at the chains holding her arms to the headboard.

“Not even five minutes,” he said, tutting. He turned around and held up a dark purple flogger. Jazz’s breath caught in her throat as he stepped closer to her, running the tails over her torso. They were softer than she expected—not leather. Some kind of nylon maybe. “This is a beginner one,” Liam explained. “It’s designed to sting, but not too badly. You okay with that?”

Jazz nodded, because she was sure her voice would come out as nothing but a squeak if she tried to answer verbally, but Liam wasn’t satisfied with that. “Words, darling. I’m not doing anything unless you’re one hundred percent comfortable with it.”

She cleared her throat. “Yeah, I’m good with it.”

“Good.” Liam leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead before standing up straight and, before Jazz even had time to think about it, snapped the tails of the flogger over her breasts.

“Fuck,” she cried as the sting ricocheted across her skin. Her back bowed off the bed as far as the restraints would allow. She fell back on the bed, panting, while Liam dragged the tails so softly over her skin they tickled.

“Okay?”

Jazz opened her mouth to confirm before considering. She’d behaved enough. “Is that all you’ve got?”

The energy in the room shifted as Liam processed her words. A shiver worked its way down her spine. His hand stilled, the tails of the flogger dangling loosely on her stomach. Jazz braced herself for the sting, but it didn’t come. Liam leaned over her, his mouth hovering an inch from hers. There was a wicked glint in his emerald eyes as they bore into her.

“Talk back to me again and see what happens.” Liam closed the distance between them until she thought he was going to kiss her, but he bit down hard on her lower lip until it throbbed, then pulled back.

Jazz licked her lips. Oh, she really wanted to see what happened. “So scary,” she mocked as he turned away, her voice dripping with condescension.

She watched Liam’s shoulder’s rise and fall in a long sigh, but it was the low, humorless chuckle that made her legs tremble in their restraints. From her tied-down position, she couldn’t see what he was doing when he crouched down to the floor. When he stood, he had something grasped in his hand, but he kept it hidden as he took up his spot by the bed again.

“Show me you can snap your fingers in the cuffs,” he said, his voice making it clear he wasn’t fucking around.

Jazz frowned in confusion but did as he asked. Liam nodded, satisfied. “Why—” she cut off, her voice muffled as he shoved a rolled-up piece of fabric in her open mouth. She squinted at her reflection in the mirror, clocking the red lace. Was that her fucking underwear? She tried to protest, but all she could manage were some garbled notes.

Liam looked up, catching her reflection in the mirror with a smirk, the picture of sin. “Better.”

He lightly slapped her cheek, eliciting a muffled moan from Jazz, then followed up with a gentle kiss in the same spot. She watched him pick up the flogger from where he’d dropped it on the bed at her insolence, and looked away from her reflection, tensing. Not knowing when the next strike was coming was half the fun, right?

“Remember to snap if you need a break, darling.” The way he could slip so quickly from this soft, caring Liam to a darker, harder persona was both impressive and unexpected. Jazz nodded her agreement, and she only had a split-second warning, watching the switch in him, before he brought the flogger down on her inner thigh.

She cried out, biting down on the fabric. Liam didn’t let up; the single strike to test the flogger had been nothing. He flicked the tails against her legs, her upper arms, her breasts. Her skin was on fire, pain mingling with pleasure. Jazz writhed in her bonds, desperate for some friction between her legs. Holy shit, had she ever been this wet?

Just when she thought she might sob with frustration, Liam ran his wide palm up her thigh, brushing her clit with a single finger. Then snapped the flogger between her legs.

Jazz screamed through the underwear, the sting of the flogger bordering on agony, but it only took a second before it morphed into fireworks. Liam followed the strike by rolling her clit gently between his fingers and Jazz panted, her heart damn near beating out of her chest. Fuck, when was the last time she’d been this close?

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