Page 55 of Dirty Damage

“It wouldn’t help.” I swallow hard. “I mean, I’m just nervous. I’ll always be nervous. Until we… Well, I’d rather jump in head first.”

“Head first is my preferred method.”

His golden eyes have gone black with hunger. His lips are parted on heavy breaths, and as long as I can see his perfect, chiseled face—his perfect everything—I’m never going to be able to relax. I’ll implode.

Maybe I already have. It’s the only explanation for what comes out of my mouth next:

“I want to be blindfolded. And bound.”

It’s his turn to arch back, forehead creasing. “You want to be…? Fucking hell. Are you sure?”

“I think it… It will be easier if I don’t look at you.” A frown sears across his face and I scramble to explain. “Not like that. I mean, you’reyou. The fewer senses I have to use, the less overwhelming this will be.”

He hesitates, and I’m sure my mania has killed whatever mood he was in.

But then he turns towards the closet. When he returns, he’s carrying a red blindfold and handcuffs that look way too real.

Another bolt of terror-laced anticipation hits me. But it’s too late to back out now.

Oleg circles me slowly, his eyes washing over me like lava. When he finally touches me, electricity arcs through my body. I’ve never felt anything this visceral before. Not with any other man.

He takes my hand, the metal of the cuffs cold against my skin. “You really want this?”

His voice is deep. It reverberates through me, leaving echoes in its wake.

But as nervous as I am, I know what I want.

“Yes.”

The cuff clicks around my wrist with a sharp snap. Oleg tightens it just enough to squeeze, then he uses the other to pull me to his bed.

I follow behind him, stumbling through a dream. This can’t be real.

Oleg lowers me to the edge of the mattress, his broad body between my legs.

Ishouldbe intimidated; he’s much bigger up close.

But I want to reach out and touch him, feel his warm skin under my fingertips. I want to prove to myself that this is real.

That I’m really doing this.

He closes the distance between us, pushing me back onto the bed. His hand scrapes along my arm to my wrist…

… then he cuffs one hand to the headboard. And then the other.

Suddenly, my nerves surge back.

“M-maybe I need the blindfold now…”

His jaw clenches. “Do I scare you, Sutton?”

“No.”

That’s a lie.

He knows it, too.

He smirks as he shifts closer. His erection presses against my inner thigh. He parts my legs with his knee and rubs himself against the soaked fabric of my panties until I moan.

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