Page 43 of His Hold

“Haha, very funny.” He means it as sarcasm, but he’s smiling too. “Gun needs to be taken off or it could get jammed up when I want it to fire.”

I gasp, smiling proudly. “Oh my God. Imagine if you survived all those wounds just to die because your gun jammed?”

“Exactly,” he puts the gun on the floor by his feet and links his fingers together. “Although you seem more excited with the prospect of me dying than anything else.”

“Oh, sue me!”

He sighs, smiling. After a while, he looks up at me, and I feel my heart clench. “Pretty sure you didn’t respond to my question.”

I already know what he’s talking about but I say nothing, pretending that this is a normal conversation between people like us. He rises, towering above me, and methodically takes off his belt. “Stand up and turn around. Trust me.”

“I don’t trust you,” I say, laughing, perplexed by his honest arrogance. “I don’t trust a single word from your mouth, Nik.” But I’m standing and flipping around without knowing why.

Nikolai grabs both my arms, pulls them tight together with one hand, and locks them with the belt. I feel him tighten the loops, a deep growl forming in his throat. “Tell me if it gets too tight.”

“Okay.”

He drags the belt again, and I jump. “Tight,” I mutter under my breath. “Are you trying to get my hands amputated back there?”

“Sorry,” he rasps, and I still go. I don’t know if he means the apology or if this is just words but I like how he says it with authority, like the words are the only ones he knows by heart.

He stands, leading me toward the door. “Where are we going? It’s cold outside!”

“I know. That’s the fun and danger I want to show you.”

I’m terrified. That’s the thing. I’m utterly terrified of this man right here, right now. I’m under his spell as he towers behind me, my hands tied firmly behind my back. And yet, even then, I don’t tell him to stop or scream at the top of my lungs for release. I just follow him outside where the cold blocks out any rational thought. From here on out, anytime we speak, there’s a slither of smoke coming out of our mouths.

That’s how cold we are.

Which is exactly why I catch myself screaming when he tugs my shorts downward until they’re a disjointed mess around my ankles. “What are you doing? I’m fucking cold, Jesus Christ!”

He turns me around without a second thought and goes down on his knees. I don’t know what to expect. But maybe I do. Maybe the only rational thing a man on his knees can do is to fuck you with his mouth. I mean…that’s the thing, right?

I’m flushed everywhere.

I’m hot. Needy. Restless. Horny.

I can go on. I’m…fucked.

“You’ve got the prettiest ass I’ve ever seen,” he groans, his hands coming up to massage each ass cheek. This is pure worship. “I keep thinking about how fucking delicious you taste. I could eat you all day, everyday, and not get tired. Do you understand what I’m saying? I’m…fucking obsessed with your body.”

I swallow loudly and press my face against the stiff wood that’s the wall. “I’m supposed to be…cold.”

“Are you?”

“I’m…hot.”

“Where?”

“You know where.”

“No, I don’t. Tell me. Show me.”

“Bastard.” I’m breathless. “You’ve got my hands tied firmly behind my back. How do you expect me to show you that I’m soaking wet? How can I show you that I want your mouth on my pussy?”

He chuckles softly and kisses each ass cheek. “I like it when you lose control and tell me what you want. It’s deliciously hot.”

“Nik—” Nikolai drags a finger to my pussy, swiping it from behind in a teasing, gentle swirl. “Oh, bloody hell!”

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