Page 46 of Sinful Chains

“Do you ever feel guilty?”

His mouth twitched at the corners. “Occasionally. But I try not to dwell.”

I watched him, letting the weight of his words settle between us. Then I asked the question that had been burning my soul for the last six months.

“What do you think happened the night my brother got killed?”

Pain flickered across his face. He exhaled through his nose, shifting slightly against the restraints.

“I think about that every day,” he admitted, his voice raw with grief. “I don’t know what the fuck happened. I thought the target had some extra security lurking that we didn’t know about, but I don’t know anymore.”

“What don’t you know?”

“I wonder if it was something else…something deeper.” His body looked tense now, his shoulders tight, his forehead creased. “And if I haven’t said it before, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry it happened on my watch.”

I felt every ounce of his remorse. It had burrowed in deep and settled into his bones.

I swallowed hard and waited, unsure of how to feel. The lines were blurry at this point. His pain was real, and completely unrelated to our little game.

I let the silence linger and stretch between us, letting it torture him, because for thefirst time since we started this, I understood something about myself, something that had settled deep inmybones.

There’s power in patience.

He watched me, unable to move the way he wanted, unwilling to rush me through the process. It was such a role-reversal for me, not catering to a man, not making him comfortable, not shrinking or stretching myself to accommodate his feelings and his moods.

Time ticked by slowly while I thought about what Storm told me. I barely spared a glanced at him as I pondered, smiling when the chains rattled.

He was breaking.

Finally, I bent down, cupping his jaw, tilting his face up. His pupils were dilated, his chest rising and falling.

“Thank you for being so open,” I murmured.

“Did it please you, Princess?”

I nodded.

Then I kissed him.

His lips parted, his tongue sliding against mine. The chains rattled as he tried to reach out and touch me, falling short every time,his frustration growing, right along with his erection.

I pulled back, uncrossing my legs.

“Make me cum. Lick up every drop.”

He blew out a breath as he leaned forward and pressed hot, wet kisses up my inner thighs. When his tongue finally reached its destination, I shuddered in relief.

He was so good at this.

His lips sealed around me as he sucked gently, at first, then harder. He groaned like he could feel it, too, his arms straining against the cuffs as he tried and failed to touch me.

When I came, I squeezed my thighs around his head, gripping the arms of the chair as the pleasure overtook me. This was where I wanted to be. This place, this time, with this man, was paradise, a place where grief didn't exist. Worry. Stress. Fear. None of it mattered here. Only us. Only ecstasy.

He pulled back, his bare chest heaving as he waited for his next directive, his lips glistening with the remnants of my pleasure.

So sexy.

“Get up,” I ordered.

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