Page 8 of His Bound Bedmate

“Findlay! Please!” she moaned, rocking back and forth from the cuffs above. “I need…”

I knew what she needed. But I wanted her to say it. “What, Millicent? What do you need?”

“Kiss me.” Her eyes—hazy with desire—met mine, and she begged. “Please kiss me, Y-Your Highness.”

Your wish is my command. I straightened and lifted my face to hers, allowing her to be the one to close the final inches between us and lock her lips to mine.

Holy fook the woman could kiss! I was in very real danger of blowing my load right then and there, and I hadn’t even gotten to touch her properly yet. I forced myself to pull away before I wanted to, and loved the way she leaned to follow me.

“Millicent,” I cautioned, my voice rough from denying myself. “If ye’re going to help me chose the right wife, ye’re going to have to understand everything. Ye see…” I stepped away from her to pull open a drawer in the table beside the armchair. “This lifestyle isnae just about baring yourself to your partner. It’s about trusting him or her to make you feel good.”

I held up the nipple clamps, attached by the silver chain with the hook for the weights…and her eyes widened. But not in fear, as I had been worried they would…but in excitement. She knew what these were, whether from experience or research—God, she was such a studious woman. I wondered what she’d read about them, if she was eager to try them.

I moved in front of the dais again and met her eyes without touching her. Instead I lifted the nipple clamps, and watched her lick her lips again.

“Ye see, there are levels of pain which can bring pleasure. Or levels of pleasure that are on par with pain. You’ve heard of something ‘hurting so good’, aye?” She nodded, her gaze still on the clamps. “That’s what this is about. It’s about stimulating your skin in different and unusual ways. Not all the time—sexual pleasure is perfectly good without it, after all. But I…like to do things differently.”

She dragged her dark eyes to mine, and there still wasn’t any fear in them. Just desire. “Me too,” she confessed with a whisper.

I nodded, pleased I’d guessed correctly. She really was the perfect mate for me, and her being willing to bare herself like this to me, to trust me, seemed to demonstrate that. But I needed proof. I needed to be sure she wasn’t just saying this to get me to fook her—to get me to make her my wife.

I needed to test her.

Chapter 5

Millicent

Oh yes, my prince.

I knew what those nipple clamps were. I’d read the Marquis de Sade’s works, knew how they pinched a woman’s nipples—if they were connected by a chain, as these were, they could even control a woman’s movements.

I didn’t have a set of my own, but I’d tried to simulate the effect with my hands. Always wished to be subjected to them.

It was possible we really were perfect for one another.

Findlay stepped closer. “Millicent, I’d like to try these on ye. But ye can ask me to stop any time—we’ll use a color code.”

I blinked, suddenly dragged away from my fantasies. “A…color code, Your Highness?”

“Findlay,” he gently reminded me, and I swallowed.

“Findlay,” I whispered, somehow feeling even more vulnerable than previously.

Which was remarkable, considering I was half-nude, holding onto ceiling chains, my legs dripping with my uncontrolled desire.

His lips twitched in approval. “I’ve found it’s easier to remember simple color code, than forcing myself to find words. Especially in a situation where words might be difficult, or thought incoherent. When the pleasure gets too much.”

It was difficult to imagine what situation would make this man incoherent. “What kind of color code?”

“If ye’re enjoying yourself, ye can tell me ‘green’. If ye want me to slow down, to let ye get used to the sensations, ye can say ‘yellow’. And if ye want me to stop whatever I’m doing, nae questions asked, ye say ‘red’ and I will do so. Do ye understand?”

I looked him straight in those blue eyes of his, and told him the truth. “I love that you’re worried about my consent, Findlay. But you should know that hooking those things to my nipples will make me want to—to fook you more.”

It was the first time I’d had the courage to say that—to tell him how much I wanted him. To admit how aroused he made me, standing there in front of me fully dressed, looking at my bare breasts.

But his only acknowledgement was a slight curve of his lips, and a small approving nod. “We’ll see,” Findlay said quietly.

He focused his gaze on my left nipple, and even though he wasn’t touching me, I felt it go hard instantly. It was as though my body knew what was coming and was readying myself for it. He hummed quietly, and in one quick movement, reached out to pinch the nipple in one of the clamps.

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