Page 163 of Hell and High Water

Always with the theatrics.

Hellena’s head snaps to the side, her inhale of shock sucking in through her flared nostrils. I can almost feel the thrill shooting through her body as she looks between us, chest heaving, wondering what we have planned.

“We decided to repurpose one of the rooms in the basement for a different kind of training,” I explain as Evan rises to join me at the foot of the bed, stripping his shirt off, the two of us admiring the view of Hellena’s prone form.

“Mmm,” she growls in frustration.

“Evan, do the honors.”

I normally wouldn’t think to give him orders, but in this case he’s letting me take the lead. He nods before adjusting her ankle straps. Then he moves to the wall, unlooping the rope and tugging upward.

Slowly, firmly, Hellena is dragged upright by her wrists.

And I almost lose it right there at the sight of her expression.

Shock.

She can barely even squirm the way I tied her. Now that she’s up on her knees, she’s completely at our mercy, her ankles still immobilized.

“Yes. You won’t be able to move. You won’t be able to do anything.”

“And before you get too excited, think again.” Evan’s dark gaze makes me shiver.

“This is training, Hella, so I need you to focus. Remember the exercises that you’ve been practicing. Breathing. Meditation.”

“You might want to start now,” Evan adds, yanking suddenly on the straps, making her flex as she’s stretched out, dangling just above the bed.

Quickly, she sucks in a breath before exerting control, stilling and closing her eyes.

“Good.”

We give her a few seconds to fall into a rhythm before I begin, gently dragging the tip of the birch rod down her side, making her flinch. It fools her, making her eyes ease back open.

And in true Hellena fashion, she arches her back, pulling against her bindings to wiggle her chest at me, tempting me.

“Don’t make a sound,” I warn her, a grin spread over my face right before I snap the switch across her exposed thigh.

Her eyes snap closed with pain, and I see her clench, biting down on the gag.

When she recovers, the reality of the situation settles.

All of her teasing sensuality is gone, replaced with anger.

“I warned you.”

“He really did.” Evan heads to the shelf. He’s better at hiding his smile as he returns with another strip of fabric.

Hellena jerks her head away this time, grunting in rage. But Evan is quicker, using her movement against her to loop the band around her head, blindfolding her.

The next several minutes drag into a different kind of torture. Waiting.

After a bit, I can see her glistening in the dim light, sweat breaking out on her forehead, across her chest above her tank top.

It’s tantalizing. And it’s terrible.

I almost cave, almost let her down, embrace her.

But this is important. We have to know that she can survive being captured. Evan watches me closely, witnessing the battle in my head.

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