Page 116 of Cruel Riches

“No, but I’m not going to tip Colette’s hard work down the drain,” he replied, eyes narrowing. “I’d drink it myself, but it has mango nectar in it, and I’m allergic.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but Nate held up a palm. “Before you think about throwing it in my face, I’m not that allergic,” he said. “It won’t kill me. So don’t bother.”

Dammit.That was exactly what I’d been considering.

With a sigh, I took the glass from him and sniffed it. I had to admit, it smelled heavenly. I took a small sip and almost let out an orgasmic groan. Colette sure knew how to mix the best juices. It was incredible. Or maybe I just thought it was incredible because I’d recently lived off stale bread in a tunnel for two weeks.

“Tell her I said thank you,” I muttered to Nate, setting the glass down on the counter.

“I will later. Now hurry up and finish your makeup. I want lots of eyeliner and mascara,” he said, lips twisting into a cruel smirk. “It’ll look good running down your face later.”

“Asshole,” I whispered when he stepped outside again. Even though he’d claimed multiple times that he wasn’t going to force me to do anything, his last comment all but confirmed that he would. After all, why would makeup run down my face unless I was crying and begging for him to stop?

When my eyes were heavy with kohl eyeliner and lashings of mascara, I took a deep breath and headed out to the bedroom. Nate had dimmed the lights slightly, and he was sitting on a chair by the window, looking at me with an appreciative gleam in his eyes. There was a distinct bulge in the front of his pants.

If things were different, this might seem like a romantic situation—low lights, a beautiful bed filled with soft, luxurious fabrics, and a hot man staring at me like he truly wanted to be with me. Instead, I was mere prey to him, and I’d be lucky if he even let me within five feet of the bed.

I was right. When I took another step, he rose from the chair and issued a command. “Get on all fours,” he said, eyes narrowing.

I did as he said without a word, slowly sinking to the ground and positioning myself on my hands and knees.

He stepped over to a cupboard on the other side of the room, and when he returned, he was holding a crimson rope and an item I recognized as a black spreader bar with silver cuffs.

He knelt down behind me and slid the bar between my legs, forcing them further apart before locking them into place. Then he commanded me to lift my chest up slightly and put my hands behind my back. He used the rope to tie them together, and I clenched my jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry out as the rough fabric bit into my wrists and chafed against my back.

“Are you ready yet?” he asked when I was completely immobilized, leaning down to pet my hair like I was a dog.

“Ready for what?” I said in a low voice. “For you to make me do whatever the hell you want like the sick, twisted animal you are?”

“I told you, I’m not going to do that.”

“I know you are, so just get it over with,” I muttered, staring down at the polished floor.

“No. I don’t need to force you. Not when you’re begging me to fuck you.”

“Do you see that happening?” I snapped, looking up at him. “Because I sure as hell don’t.”

I half-expected him to slap me in the face for my attitude, but he didn’t move. “Not yet, but it’ll happen,” he said, glancing at his watch. “All I have to do is wait for it.”

“You’re seriously delusional,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “You can wait forever. I’ll still never beg for you to fuck me.”

He didn’t respond to that. Just stared at me. A strange smile flickered around the corners of his mouth, and an ominous feeling slid up the back of my neck, making the little hairs there stand on end. Something was going on.

What was it? What had I missed?

Nate slowly unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it onto the bed before unbuckling his belt and sinking onto the floor behind me. A cool hand ran over my ass a second later, making me shiver as a jolt shot up my spine.

I teetered slightly, feeling as if the floorboards had just moved beneath my legs and arms. A dizzy sensation that had been lingering on my periphery since I stepped out of the bathroom began to rise and multiply inside me, pouring through me like a dam had broken somewhere deep within.

When it was milder, I’d taken the dizzy feeling as a symptom of dread over what was in store for me. Now I knew better.

“That juice wasn’t from Colette. You… you drugged me,” I murmured, blinking rapidly. Whatever he gave me had fuzzed my edges and muddled my mind.

Nate moved around to my front and tilted my chin up, forcing me to look at him. “How are you feeling?” he asked, ignoring my previous statement.

The room suddenly seemed too bright despite the dim lighting, and everything seemed to be spinning and zipping past me too fast for me to register. A dull throb pulsed in my temples, and my body felt like it was overheating.

I blinked and steeled myself, resisting the urge to sway and fall over. “It’s still wrong, you know,” I whispered. “Fucking me while I’m unconscious doesn’t make it okay.”

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