Page 59 of Pose for Me

The kiss is thorough, almost possessive, as if Knox is trying to imprint himself on every part of me. When he finally pulls away, I'm breathless, my lips tingling and my head spinning.

"Stay here," Knox murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. His eyes bore into mine. "Stay safe. We don't know what this psychopath is capable of."

I feel River's arms loosen around me, his warmth retreating as he prepares to step away. But Knox's hand shoots out, gripping River's wrist with a force that makes the tendons in his arm stand out in stark relief.

"No," Knox growls, his gaze flicking to River. "You stay here too. Keep her safe."

River nods, a silent understanding passing between them. His arms encircle me once more, pulling me back against the solid warmth of his chest.

“When I get back, we are going to discuss the consequences of breaching the NDA you signed.” My jaw drops as Knox turns, his movements fluid and purposeful as he strides towards the door. The late afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows catches on his crisp white shirt, highlighting the play of muscles beneath the fabric as he moves.

A part of me wants to call out, to beg him to stay. The thought of him out there, potentially in harm's way, makes my heart clench painfully. But before I can voice my concerns, River gently turns me in his arms, drawing my attention back to him.

His blue eyes capture mine, a mix of mischief and concern swirling in their depths. "Now, little Rayne, back to you doubting our love of your smoking hot body," he says, his voice a low, seductive purr. "Is that why you didn't eat the cupcake I gave you?"

Chapter 35

Rayne

Ibitemylipand look away from River, not wanting to answer. A flush of shame creeps up my neck as I realize he's right–a part of me did hesitate to eat the cupcake he gave me because of my insecurities about my body. The memory of wanting so badly to indulge but holding back out of misplaced guilt, makes me cringe inwardly.

River chuckles, the sound low and wicked. His fingers brush my chin, gently urging me to meet his gaze again. His eyes dance with mischief as he asks, "You know what's good about being here on official business?"

Before I can respond, he lets go of me but gently takes one of my hands. His other hand reaches behind him, and when it comes back into view, my breath catches. Dangling from his fingers is a set of handcuffs, the metal gleaming in the late afternoon light.

"These," River purrs, his voice dripping with sin. With a swift, practiced motion, he snaps one cuff around my wrist. The metal is cool against my skin, a stark contrast to the heat building inside me. The weight of it is unfamiliar, yet strangely thrilling. I can feel my pulse quickening, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through my veins.

River's eyes darken as he watches my reaction, his pupils dilating with desire. "Oh, little Rayne," he purrs, tugging gently on the cuffs. "Do you like being bound?"

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. My throat feels dry, my tongue heavy in my mouth. River's gaze is intense, his blue eyes seeming to see right through me, reading every unspoken desire written on my skin.

Without breaking eye contact, River leads me across the studio. When we reach the foot of the bed, River's voice drops to a low, commanding tone. "Raise your arms for me, little Rayne."

Without hesitation, I comply. My arms lift above my head, the loose fabric of my dress shifting with the movement. I can feel my breasts straining against the thin material, my nipples hardening into tight peaks. River's eyes rake over my body, drinking in every detail.

His eyes gleam with wicked intent as he steps closer, his body radiating heat. His fingers trail up my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The touch is feather-light, almost reverent, as if he's mapping every inch of my skin. I shiver involuntarily, my body arching towards him, seeking more contact.

He leans in, his breath hot against my ear as he whispers, "You're so beautiful like this, Rayne. All flushed and trembling for me." His lips brush the sensitive spot just below my ear, and I have to bite back a moan.

His touch is maddening, simultaneously too much and not enough. I'm so lost in the sensations that I barely register the soft clink of metal.

Suddenly, there's a cool pressure around my other wrist. My eyes fly open—when had I closed them?—just in time to see River securing the second cuff to my other wrist, having hooked it over one of the bars of the canopy bed. The realization hits me a moment too late as I instinctively tug against the restraints.

The metal is unyielding, cold and hard against my skin. The cuffs are snug but not tight, allowing just enough movement to tease but not enough to escape. I test them again, feeling the solid weight of the metal, the way it restricts my movements.

River grins at me, his expression a mix of wickedness and unbridled glee. It's the kind of smile that would make most people take a step back, a primal part of their brain recognizing the predator before them. But I'm not most people. I feel an answering thrill of excitement race through me, my body responding to the dangerous edge in his eyes.

I give him a droll look, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite the heat pooling low in my belly. "You know," I say, my voice huskier than I intended, "I have leather cuffs over there." I motion with my head towards the far wall, where the St. Andrew's cross stands proudly alongside an array of other BDSM equipment. The leather cuffs in question hang from a hook nearby, their soft black surface a stark contrast to the cold metal currently encircling my wrists.

River's eyes follow my gesture, his grin widening impossibly further. His gaze lingers on the cross, and I can almost see the wheels turning in his mind, no doubt imagining all the delicious scenarios we could explore with that particular piece of equipment. When he turns back to me, his eyes are dark with desire, pupils blown wide.

He chuckles, the sound low and wicked. "Oh, of course I know about those lovely leather cuffs, sweetheart," he purrs, his voice a seductive rumble that sends shivers down my spine. "But these," he taps the metal cuffs with one long finger, "were convenient. And every time I look at them from now on I will be able to picture you just like this. Besides, you might struggle a bit less against them. Though we will definitely be playing with those leather ones another time. I have so many delicious ideas for them."

He steps back, his gaze raking over my restrained form with obvious appreciation. Then he turns and walks away. I watch, transfixed, as he retrieves the white box and coffee cup from where he left them earlier.

River returns, his eyes never leaving mine as he approaches. The air between us feels charged, crackling with tension. He stops just inches from me, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body. My breath catches in my throat as he lifts the coffee cup to my lips. The rich aroma of caramel latte fills my senses, mingling with River's own intoxicating scent.

"Drink," he growls, his voice low and commanding. Before I can fully process what's happening, the first drops of liquid touch my tongue. The latte has cooled to a comfortable temperature, no longer scalding but still holding a pleasant warmth.

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