Page 145 of Breaker

“Spread your legs.”

My heart thrashes, a wild thing in my chest. I lick my lips, taking a deep breath, but do as he asks.

“Good girl,” he says. “I’m not going to hurt you, Kitten.”

The truth in his words skim over me. “I know.”

When he walks back to the chair and picks up a set of black leather cuffs that had been hidden behind him, my heart leaps into my throat.

He came prepared. Ready for this. Forcing me to admit it out loud. Knowing I wanted him.

Without a word, he moves to the end of the bed and straps one cuff on my ankle then loops the chain around a pole and clips it to itself. The leather is cold, his hands warm as he slides one gently over my ankle to make sure it’s secure. He then tests the strength of the chains, tugging hard, metal rattling. Reaper grips my other ankle and drags my legs open, spreading them so far apart I’m completely exposed to him.

Exposed and vulnerable. He wanted my trust. This is it. Me splayed open, at his mercy. My body ready for him to use as he pleases. And I’m giving him that power, trusting him not to abuse it. Maybe I’ve trusted him all along.

Once I’m bound to the bed, he leans on the metal railing of the footboard, hands gripping tightly, eyes eating up the sight of me. “Look at how beautiful you are. Spread open for me. Ready for my cock. Pussy so wet, I can see it dripping from here.”

Another, deeper warmth spreads through my chest at the way he’s so openly praising, looking hungrily yet appreciatively at my body, my face. Me.

Reaper stalks toward me, watching how my body stiffens. “Why are you scared, Kitten?”

“I’m not,” I lie.

He makes atskingsound. “You’re a terrible liar, sweet girl. We need to work on that.”

Sweet girl.

I think I like that. I think I want to be his sweet girl.

From the table next to me, Reaper picks up the blindfold. I meet his eyes in the dark. He’s just a solid dark mass, glimmering black diamonds for eyes.

He’s been a wild fling, my captor, my lover.

Mine.

“Are you ready for me, Delilah?”

My name.

Me.

I release a breath, letting all that caged up resentment toward him, all that fear and longing, go. “Yes. I’m ready.”

With out another word, he places the fabric over my eyes and ties it behind my head, throwing me into utter darkness.

Chapter 45

Delilah

Every sense snaps toawareness now that I can’t see. My breaths quicken, and he must sense my nerves inching higher because he runs a hand up my arm.

The chains rattle as I try to squeeze my legs together to ease the need growing hotter and hotter.

A faint click next to my head makes me jerk. “You turned the light on?”

“I did,” Reaper says.

My cheeks burn, fire lancing through me, making my chest heat. I’m not sure why the thought of him seeing me in the light makes me feel so much more vulnerable. He’s seen every inch of me.

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