Page 50 of Sinful Chains

By the time we left Nordstrom, I was carrying three heavy bags. My muscles burned slightly, but I loved every second of it.

San didn’t say thank you.

She didn’t say shit.

And she didn’t have to.

Next stop, Saks. Same routine. Total went up. More bags. More ignoring me.

Dick even harder.

A woman shot me a strange look, eyeing the bags I held, then flicked her gaze to San, who still hadn’t acknowledged my existence.

I didn’t care.

It wasn’t until we stopped in front of the Prada store that she turned toward me, her eyes roaming my face.

“You okay back there?”

I smiled. She wasn’t concerned, she was teasing me.

I adjusted the bags, shifting their weight in my arms. I stepped closer to her, staring into her eyes.

“I’ve never been better, Princess.”

She bit her lip, eyes darkening, and turned away, stepping into the store without another word.

She bought us matching leather wallets, then handed me the bags, marching out of the store while the saleswoman thanked me.

My skin felt tight. My pulse thrummed wildly in my throat.

I caught up to her, speaking directly in her ear.

“San.”

She didn’t turn. Didn’t acknowledge me.

I touched her arm. “Princess.”

She stopped walking, turning slowly, raising an eyebrow like I was a big inconvenience.

I exhaled sharply. “I’m going to the men’s room real quick.”

Her smile was sweet and deadly.

She knew.

I waited for her answer. She tilted her head, studying me, deciding my fate. Then she shrugged.

“Not yet.”

I swallowed hard. “San—“

She stepped closer, pressing a delicate finger to my chest, right over my pounding heart. “I’ll let you know when you’re allowed.”

The words shot straight to my dick, tightening the growing knot in my stomach, leaving my throat dry.

But all I could do was nod. “Yes, Princess.”

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