“What am I going to do with you?” Taking her head in his hands, he pressed his lips to hers. “Tell me, Amy.”
Let me go.
The answer was right there, on the tip of her tongue, but held in his grip, she could only think about how much she wanted him to kiss her again.
It made no fucking sense.
She’d just screamed the house down, trying to get away from the fiend, yet now, she sought the heat of his mouth on hers.
“Love me, sir?”
Ultimately, it was all she could think to say, the best common ground between her two desires. If he truly loved her, then he wouldn’t hurt her. She had to hold on to that.
“Ah, yes.” He collapsed over her, forcing her to her back as his weight pinned her down. “ThatI can do, little girl.”
His lips neared, brushing her mouth until she moaned for more.
“Please.” Her head was swimming with competing emotions.
“Soneedy.” He sighed, rising to survey her the way a lion might peruse the Serengeti. “But you’re right… Idoneed to love you.”
His mouth lowered again, claiming her properly that time, and acting on instinct, her lips yielded to his command. She sensed her body soften at the brutal caress, knowing that, for all his fucked-up behavior, he was still the only man who could ignite her.
As the intensity of the kiss waned, she was vaguely aware of his arm shifting and the sound of something moving at the bedside—a drawer opening, perhaps—but the demand of his lips was sufficient to hold her in place until the noise melted into the background.
It wasn’t important. Not like the taste of him, the passion flickering in his gaze, or the silent, imploring way herhips rose to taunt him. Those were the things that mattered—the reasons why he was right and why walking away was simply not going to be an option.
“I’m going to take care of you.” His gaze slid to her right wrist as he continued. “I want you to know that.”
It seemed a strange thing for him to say, except everything that had happened since she’d found the files could be interpreted as peculiar.
“I want you to remember that.” His voice was soft and as he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, she sensed a cold band of metal tighten around her wrist.
“What was that?” She strained to see, but his face blocked her view, and his body kept her immobilized to the bed.
“Me.” He smiled. “Taking careof you.”
A sharp tug at her wrist yanked her right arm higher along the bed, and by the time she’d twisted to try to understand the abrupt pain, she realized it was too late. A metal cuff had been locked around her wrist, and, heart hammering at her fate, she acknowledged he’d wrapped the attached cuff to the head of his bedstead.
“No!” She tried to rise from the bed, but his hard body insisted she stay, his hand holding her down with infuriating ease. She kicked out, regardless, attempting to throw him off balance, but the man seemed to be made of muscle, and every kick proved futile. “Don’t do this! Let me go!”
He rose, dodging her flailing legs and stretching his neck as though he was the one being held under duress.
“Please, sir!” She yanked at the cuff, flinching at its unyielding form around her delicate skin. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I need to keep you here until we can work things out.” He shrugged, as though her dilemma was unavoidable, and it was normal for men to behave that way.
An icy rush of energy through her body reminded her that, for him, perhaps it might be.
What did she know about Kyle after all?
Only what he’d told her, and that had been frustratingly limited. She’d thought it was erotic at first—that he was enigmatic because he shared very little when he stepped in to play her savior—but fettered to the bed, the panic made her wonder.
“Not like this!” Hysterical, she panted, tugging harder at the cuff and instantly regretting the deed. She winced as the metal cut into her flesh. “Don’t keep me like this!”
“Stop that.” He scowled. “Stop hurting yourself, or I’ll cuff both of your hands and gag you.”
She eyed him for any sign that his threat was insincere, but his gaze was hard, conveying everything she needed to know.