Page 25 of Snow Bound

“I need to know you’ll use them if you need to.”

“I will.” Hurry, hurry, hurry.

“One more thing. Do you want to be treated like a good girl, or a bad girl?”

He was looking at her like she was the last doughnut in the box, the amused twinkle replaced by gleaming lust. She swallowed hard. “A bad girl.”

“Good,” he said and his smile, so playful a moment before, took on a sharpness that made her heart leap into her throat. “Stand up.”

Her knees were starting to shake, but she did as he asked, unfolding herself to stand in front of him.

“Hands behind your back,” he instructed.

She obeyed, linking her fingers together behind her.

“Eyes on me.”

She lifted her gaze, her breath catching in her throat. He was watching her with a sort of feral intensity, his eyes blazing with it. The calm, amused façade he’d worn while they negotiated was gone, and in its place was the Dom. Dangerous, frightening, and hot as a raging wildfire.

“Are you scared?” he asked, the words a low rumble.

She forced herself to be truthful. “A little.”

“Do you like it?”

Fear and lust were a potent cocktail, scattering her wits and weakening her knees. And she once again forced the truth from her lips. “Yes.”

Approval shone in his eyes, a glimmering, glittering reward. “Good. Turn around.”

She started to ask why, but his expression brooked no argument, and she didn’t want to piss him off so early in the scene. So she turned obediently and waited, heart pounding, nerves humming for something to happen.

Nothing did, for long moments. She forced herself to remain still, her fingers linked at the base of her spine, in the thrumming silence. She could hear the tick of the clock on the mantle, the dog’s gentle snores, but she could hear nothing behind her.

Then an arm snaked around her waist from behind and yanked her back, and she screamed.

It seemed as though a thousand sensations hit her at once. The hard, muscled chest against her back, the thick arm around her waist. His scent filled her nostrils, fabric softener and soap and something darker, spicier. His breath danced over her cheek, warm and minty. And pressed against her ass was an unmistakable erection.

Her hands flew to his forearm, instinctively grabbing hold. She’d barely made contact when his free hand tangled in her hair. He yanked her head back before she could draw another breath, then she was staring at the ceiling.

“You’ve been a bad girl, Anna.” He lowered his head so the scruff on his jaw scraped along her neck, putting the silky whisper of his voice directly in her ear. “A very bad girl.”

Excitement battled fear. It’s a game, she reminded herself. A hot, sexy game that ends in orgasms. And with a sense of fear laced joy, stepped into it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, doing her best to put some defiance into her voice. It came out breathy and completely unbelievable, but who cared? The fist in her hair twisted tighter.

“Yes, you do. Parading around last night in that thin excuse for a t-shirt, nothing on underneath. Begging me to fuck you.”

“I did not beg,” she protested, and testing, squirmed in his hold.

She didn’t move so much as an inch.

“Bullshit,” he said softly. Menacingly. “You practically dared me to do it.”

Her blood was pounding in her ears, between her thighs. She felt almost high on lust. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, bro.”

The arm around her waist loosened, and his hand glided towards her breasts. She caught her breath, anticipating, but he moved past them to settle his hand at the base of her neck. “Are you taunting me, Anna?”

She swallowed, her throat working against his hand. It was warm and heavy, the implied threat so close to her limit that panic spiked. Her hand flew up to grab his wrist. “No choking!”

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