Page 67 of Twisted Little Thing

CHAPTER XXIII

Nicky

The thought of being collared like a four-legged pet does seem strange to me. Very strange. Especially if he will be the one who decides if and when the collar gets removed.

Then again, I hardly ever wear jewelry around my neck anyway. It wouldn't get in the way. And it would mean that I belong to him. That he is truly devoted to me.

I like the sound of that.

"That is nothing we have to talk about right now," he says, interrupting my stream of thoughts.

I look up at him. "Yes, sure."

He reaches over and gently starts to stroke my hand.

"How are you feeling?" he wants to know. "What's going through that beautiful head?"

I smile.

"Nothing in particular," I lie.

"You know," he whispers while caressing the back of my hand with his finger. "I promised you, I would make it up. My wrongdoings."

"Yes, you did," I murmur.

His touch is electric. I shiver as he moves along my wrist, only ever so faintly touching my skin as the tip of his finger teases my lower arm.

"Will you let me?" he asks.

"Let you?"

"Make it up to you."

I nod. "Yes."

He frowns. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good girl," he says and abruptly rises from his seat. "Get up."

I follow his order and look up at him with anticipation as he walks around the table to get closer to me.

"This is going to be all about you," he promises before he leans forward to bless me with one of his heavenly kisses.

This man. I can feel my entire body relaxing instantly as if I was literally melting beneath his touch, his kiss.

Strength and fierceness are leaving me to make room for something else. For that willing haziness that makes me feel weak and empowered at the same time.

I know I trust him – at least in this regard.

Our kiss ends and he turns around to reach for the roses. He starts fiddling with the ribbon and just as I am about to ask him what he is doing, he opens it by carefully pulling at one of the ends. The long silk breaks loose from the roses, one end gliding down on the table while he holds the other between two of his fingers.

"Put your hands in front of your chest," he says. "As if you were praying."

I smile as I follow his order. "Yes, Sir."

The silk ribbon is just long enough for him to tie it around both my wrists twice. He fastens it with an elaborate knot and returns my smile.

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