Page 184 of Filthy Savage

“Yes…”

He pushes his palm into my core, massaging my clit with it. “I reserved the room next door for us.”

My heart skips a beat. This is really happening. I push down my fear as he leads me to the room, the same metal bar hanging from the ceiling, and my body suddenly feels cold, apprehension taking over.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re safe with me.” His hands glide up and down my arms, cupping my breasts and pulling on my nipples through the dress.

Before I know it, my body is aflame, needing this man inside me. I barely notice when he slips off the straps of my dress, sliding them down my body until I’m bare, facing away from the door.

My head falls over his chest as the music hums low through the speakers above. My small heels clack as he takes us toward a black leather chaise.

“Sit.” Lowering me down, he walks away momentarily, opening a closet and returning with a black briefcase. “I had this brought here before we came.”

I nod as he opens it, removing two bundles of red rope. He places the briefcase beside me before heading toward the far right and pulling on a lever on the wall. It automatically brings the circular metal bar down.

He begins wrapping one of the bundles around it, creating intricate loops, then picks up the second bundle and ties it to the other rope.

Tension settles in my body, my stomach heavy and filled with dread—yet excitement too.

When he stalks toward me, I notice people have gathered to watch us, and that causes panic to settle in my gut. My arms come to cover myself, and when he notices that, he tilts my chin up with the back of a finger, forcing me to look at him and only him.

“Drop your arms. Show them how beautiful you are.”

My inhales grow more rapid, but I obey, gradually lowering them to my side even while I grow nervous with heady anticipation.

Is this really happening? Am I actually doing this?

“Good girl.” His mouth drops to my breast and he sucks a nipple, eyes connected with mine as he does the same to the other.

He grabs the briefcase and takes my jaw, kissing me roughly before I’m being pulled toward the bar.

Holy crap, this feels so good.

Opening the briefcase, he grabs another bundle of rope. “Wrists together.”

The command in his voice has me obeying instantly, pushing down the anxiety as I grow incredibly turned on.

“If at any point you want to stop, use your safe word, and I will cut the ropes off.”

I nod as he continues to tie my wrists, forcing my hands behind my head and using more rope around my arms and chest.

My heart races uncontrollably as I try to forget that I’m naked right now.

He comes around to admire his work so far, twisting my achy nipples between two fingers, his mouth dropping to my throat to kiss down my nape. His hot breath on my chilled skin has me even more aroused. His fingers drag up and down the insides of my thighs, up my stomach and breasts, until every single cell in my body wants this.

He continues to coil more rope around the rest of me—my thighs, my hips, except my stomach—until it’s time to attach me to the ceiling.

Oh my God. I never even imagined I’d let a man do this to me. This is both insane and exhilarating.

Before I know it, I’m fastened by my chest and each of my legs, being lifted up until I’m suspended in the air.

Crap. This is kinda high.

Don’t think about it. You’re fine. Everything’s fine.

People are watching you hanging naked from the ceiling. Pretty sure you don’t understand howfineworks.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

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