Page 40 of Dance of Ruin

“Then go to that fucking desk and bend the fuck over it.”

Shame floods my body as I quietly walk over to his desk. I feel like I’m watching from outside my body as I stop in front of the heavy wooden desk.

“That’s part one. Now two…”

I close my eyes, my heart thudding an irregular staccato against my ribs.

“I—no,” I choke.

Nico sighs darkly right behind me. I can feel his heat against my bare back; smell his heady scent: leather, tobacco, masculine and clean.

“Why the fucknot,” he says darkly.

“Because it's humiliating,” I blurt.

I gasp sharply when I feel his lips brush against my ear.

“Good.”

I shudder.

Finally, I do as he commands and bend over the desk, my bare breasts and my cheek pressing to the polished wood when I turn my head to the side.

“Arms up. Grab the far edge of it.”

My pulse hammers in my veins. My body trembles and shakes with a swirling mix of shame, fear, excitement, and horror atfeelingthat excitement.

My palms land on the desk, the cool wood biting into my skin. My spine tenses. My legs tremble.

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

Who the hell am I right now?

Behind me, I hear the quiet, unhurried tread of Nico’s shoes against the floor. I can feel his heat at my back again, feel his gaze drifting over my skin like smoke.

“Spread your legs,” he murmurs.

I don’t move. I can't.

His hand comes down lightly on my lower back—not hard, not forceful.

But firm.

Commanding.

So I obey.

My whole body hums with shame and something dark I can’t name, and my cheeks burn as I feel exposed in a way that has nothing to do with nudity. It feels deeper, as if someone is peeling me open, layer by layer, displaying all the things I never meant to reveal.

Suddenly, his hand slides between my legs and cups my pussy firmly from behind.

I gasp, choking as my eyes snap wide, every muscle in my body clenching.

My skin is on fire. My heart is jackrabbiting. I brace for panic—expect it to rise up screaming after everything that happened to me not that long ago.

Strangely, it doesn’t.

His fingers slide over my pussy lips, exploratory and possessive. My knees nearly buckle as I bite down hard on my bottom lip.

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