Page 125 of The Owner's Temptation

There she is.

My angel.

Naked. Bound. Strapped to the cross like a gift waiting to be unwrapped.

Her wrists are locked above her head, her ankles secured wide on the base. Her back is arched just slightly, enough to make her chest rise and fall with each breath. She’s trembling. But not from fear.

No, my girl is shaking with need.

I take my time stepping inside, letting the door close behind me with a heavy, echoing finality.

She gasps.

The sound is soft, barely audible, but it shoots straight to my cock.

Her head turns instinctively toward the noise, blindfolded eyes seeking me out even though she can’t see a damn thing. Her breathing stutters, chest rising faster now, like her body knows I’m here.

And fuck, I am.

Every inch of me is wound tight, soaking in the sight of her—strapped down, glistening in the low amber light, ready to be ruined. But not yet. First, I want to watch her squirm.

To let her feel my presence like a storm creeping in.

Because the moment I touch her?

There’s no going back.

I hang her panties from a small hook on the wall, a trophy already won. Then I start to strip.

Button by button, my shirt falls open and hits the floor on top of her nighty. Every inch I uncover is deliberate. Controlled.

Because tonight?

There will be no games.

Only promises.

And the devil always keeps his.

I don’t speak right away. I let the silence weigh between us, thick and pulsing, until I see the subtle tremble of anticipation roll across her bare skin.

“Easy, now. I’m going to take care of you.”

With a slow, deliberate press of a button, the cross begins to tilt back, lowering her body into a horizontal position. Her breath catches at the shift in gravity—her back now flush against the leather padding, arms still extended, legs spread wide, completely at my mercy.

“Just trust me, little rabbit.” My voice is dark, husky with want.

I step between her thighs, still in black leather pants, unbuttoned now, my cock straining against the confines. I’m hard—aching—and it only grows worse when I see her glistening cunt on display, exposed, wet, and waiting.

My hands move first to her ankles. A soft touch. Gentle. I massage the tension from her calves, kneading the muscles as I move higher. She shifts under my touch, restless and needy, her breath coming quicker.

“It’s time you picked a safeword,” I murmur, my voice low and rough with control. “One you won’t forget.”

She’s quiet a moment, then whispers, “Diablo.”

A grin curls at my mouth. “Fitting.”

I lean down and press a kiss to her thigh—hot and lingering. Then another, and another. I nip gently at her skin, licking the faint sting away, tracing the inside of her leg with my tongue as I move up—closer to the sweet heaven between her legs but not there yet. Not quite.

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