Page 33 of Unholy Obsession

I don’t beg.

I grant people theprivilegeof fucking me.

But Bane and his deep, steady voice, his dark, knowing eyes, and his entireeverythingmakes me want to scream.

Because, uh, has the man ever actually met me?

Trust?

I trust my brother, sure. Or at least, I did. Before he turned his back on me and decided I wasn’t worth the effort anymore.

So what the fuck is trust supposed to mean to me now?

I don’t have to trust someone to enjoy fucking them. But what if I did? What if?—

Nope. No. Absolutely not. That way lies madness.

I shift again, pressing my thighs together in desperation, but the belt mocks me. My body is soaked, needy, screaming for something I can’t have.

“Moira.” Bane’s voice is a warning.

I snap my head up and glare at him. “I can’thelp it. I’m losing my goddamn mind down here.”

He pauses, his pen hovering above the page, and finally—finally—he looks at me. Those storm-gray eyes are infuriatingly calm. “That’s the point.”

“The point?” I sputter. “The point of what? TORTURING ME?”

“The point of teaching you patience.”

I scoff so hard I nearly choke. “I have patience! I’ve been sitting here forforeverwhile you scribble away about god knows what?—”

“About God, actually,” he says, his lips quirking.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

I growl and rock forward slightly, chasing even a whisper of relief. The belt presses against me—too much and not enough—and my hips jerk involuntarily.

Bane’s chair scrapes against the floor as he stands and looks down with that infuriating calm control. “If you can’t control yourself, I’ll do it for you.”

My breath catches. Oh.

Oh, Ilikethat.

My heart pounds as he hauls me up and leads me to the bed. My body is screamingyes, finally, please, but instead of pushing me down and giving me what Ineed, he sits me on the edge and holds my shoulders firmly in place.

“Stay.”

I stare up at him, vibrating with frustration. “What are you going to do?”

He doesn’t answer. He just walks to the chest at the foot of the bed, pulls out a length of silk rope, and turns back to me, his expression utterly composed.

I swallow hard. Oh, fuck.

“You brought this on yourself,” he says, taking my wrist in his strong, steady hand.

“You’re tying me up?Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

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