Page 8 of October's Ride with Atlas

I try to bolt for the door, thinking if I can just get outside, I can make a run for it. Though I’m fast, he’s quicker and grabs my arm.

“Now, you’ve done it. Let’s go take you back to Atlas,” he says, leading me down the hallway with a tight grip on my arm.

“Ow,” I say, trying to loosen his grip, but he ignores me and marches me right into the main room, where we find Atlas sitting on the couch. As he turns to look at me, I try again to yank my arm away.

“Ouch, let go of me,” I say, knowing there is no place I can run to now.

“Get your hands off her, Viper,” Atlas says in a voice that sounds deadly.

Viper immediately drops my arm as Atlas walks over to me, pulls me away, and tucks me into his side.

“She was trying to escape out the back door,” Viper says.

Atlas’s body goes stiff.

“That true, Princess?” he asks, looking down at me.

I just shrug my shoulders because there is no point in lying. Atlas takes my hand and leads me toward the staircase.

“I will take care of this. Have one of the girls bring her up some food. If you need me, I’ll be in my room.” After we take a few steps up the stairs, he stops and turns to look back at Viper.

“Don't ever let me catch you with your hands on her again,” Atlas says, his voice cold and emotionless.

He gently leads me up the stairs in stark contrast to the voice with which he just addressed Viper. Once we’re in his room, he closes and locks the door.

“I was trying to give you space to rest, but it seems we need to be closer,” he says, walking over to the closet and ruffling around.

My heart races, not knowing what his next move will be. My dad would beat anyone who tried what I just did.

When he walks over to me with something in his hand, I can’t tell what it is. As he approaches me, he says, “Give me your hand, Princess.”

I look at his outstretched hand for a moment before reaching out and hesitantly taking it in mine.

For a moment, he holds my hand in his and then, before I know what is going on, his other hand comes out and fastens something around my wrist.

“What is this?” I ask, staring at the black leather before he clicks a lock into place, securing it to my wrist. My eyes followthe chain connected to it and see him attach the other leather strap to his wrist. They look a bit like handcuffs, but not.

“This way, there is no more escaping.” He smiles at me with a hint of mischief on his face.

When I look down at the leather on my wrist, I realize the lining against my skin is soft, maybe faux fur lined.

“What is this?” I ask, holding my hand up, which is now attached to his.

“Handcuffs, so I can be sure you won’t try to run again,” he says, leading us over to the small table in his room.

He sits in one chair, and I sit across from him, while we rest our joint hands on the table.

“What kind of handcuffs are these?” I’m curious as I’ve never seen anything like these before.

“The short answer is BDSM handcuffs. They’re used when you want to restrain your partner… for fun.” He smirks.

Just the thought of him using these to chain me to the bed while he does wicked things to my body has my core throbbing. I shift in my seat and squeeze my thighs together. A move that doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but a knock on the door interrupts us. When he stands, it forces me to get up and follow him.

After he unlocks the door, there is a woman I haven’t met yet holding a tray of food.

“Hi, I’m Lily. I brought up some dinner.” She smiles at me and pushes her way into the room.

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