Page 68 of Forever Mr Black

I cross the room and pull open the cupboard doors. My eyes widen. Two rows of leather restraints, floggers, blindfolds, and God knows what else are hanging up. This is a Dom/sub’s toy box. I drag my eyes away from a ball gag at the sound of my name being whispered.

Get in, Art mouths.

I haven’t got time to freak out now.

I quietly slip inside the cupboard and leave the doors open a fraction so that I can see into the room. I shift my position slightly to get a clear view through the crack in the doors, suddenly aware of a set of metal handcuffs decorated with black feathers dangling near my face.

I hear the sound of a door closing and peer through the gap to get a better look. Tara stands by the door, wearing a plunging black silk robe that skims her buttocks and ties at the waist.

She puts her hands on her hips. “You’re back.”

I take a deep breath to try and settle my nerves. The shit’s about to go down.

Art slides his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Of course.”

I feel sick.

She sashays towards him on her high heels and flicks her long blonde hair over her shoulder. Her bright pink nails sink into his hair as she grabs the back of his head and sticks her tongue down his throat.

I swallow down the bile rising from my stomach and drag my eyes away.

Fuck.This is harder than I anticipated.

I glance back through the gap in the doors and see Art’s holding her wrists and pulling her away from him, but she remains pressed tight against him.

“What’s the rush? We’ve got all night,” he says smoothly.

Her pink lips twist into a smug smile. “You’re right. We do.” She grazes her fingernails down his cheek. “I knew you’d come back to me. All this time, you’ve denied it, but I knew you were hiding your true feelings. I knew what we had was special.”

His jaw works. “It was.”

My stomach turns with nausea as she slides her hand down his chest and interlaces her fingers with his.

“I knew you didn’t mean it when you cut me off. It was all that bitch’s fault, wasn’t it?”

He nods slowly. “I was a fool. She convinced me it was the right thing to do.”

“So, what went on with Pollyanna? I want to know exactly what happened between you and Miss Self-Fucking-Righteous.”

“She just wasn’t right for me.”

“I knew she wouldn’t be. She was far too fucking prim. I bet she was a boring fuck as well.”

When Art doesn’t answer, she glides her palms up his chest and snakes her hands into his hair again, pressing herself against him. “Well? Did she turn you on like I do, baby? Because no one makes me come like you do.”

Fucking hell.

He juts out his chin and shakes his head, as if I were nothing. “She didn’t come close. In fact, I’m already bored of talking about her.”

Tara’s cackle sears through me as she runs her hands back down his stomach. “We can’t have that. We’ve got lots of catching up to do.” She swooshes her blonde hair over her shoulder and begins unfastening his jeans.

She can’t … he can’t.

I dig my fingernails into the arms of my jacket, and I close my eyes. I’m hating every moment of this.

“Have I given permission for you to touch me?”

My eyes snap open. Art’s tone was as hard as the look in his eyes. I’m transported back to the other night as his dominant masks slips into place.

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