Page 53 of Snow Bound

“Nice try,” he drawled and, using his grip on her hair, dragged her toward the bed. “Lie down.”

When she was in place, on her back with her head propped up on the pillows and eyeing him with a mix of defiance, trepidation, and heat, he picked up the bag.

Anna drew a steadying breath. He loomed over her like some kind of sadistic god—ridiculously handsome, exuding sex, and gatekeeping his dick.

The bastard.

She tried to project some of that animosity when he looked at her, but he just sent her a sunny grin, and she was afraid she’d failed miserably. Either that, or he didn’t mind at all being the cause, or the object, of her lust-induced hate.

He glanced at the pillow under her head. “Lift up a second, sugar,” he told her, and when she did, slid the pillow out from under her. “Down again.” He surveyed the result critically. “That’s better. Put your hands together, wrists facing, and give them to me.”

“What if I don’t want to?” she challenged, just because she thought she should.

He bent down so his face was a breath from hers. “I’ll make this really easy for you,” he whispered. “You do what you’re told, and you get to come. You don’t, and you won’t.

“Safewords still work, of course,” he continued. “But defiance will get you nothing but a whole lot of frustrated. We clear?”

She shouldn’t have been shocked. She definitely shouldn’t have been turned on. But somehow, she was both. He was smiling, but it wasn’t pleasant. He looked as though he was just waiting for her to push back so he could lay down the law. She studied his face, his eyes, the set of his shoulders, looking for cracks or chinks in the armor, a back door she could slide through on a technicality. She saw nothing but absolute determination and a feral hunger that made her mouth water and her heart pound.

Wow.

One dark eyebrow arched. “I’m waiting.”

She blinked. She’d genuinely forgotten what they were talking about. “For what?”

His hand cracked down on her thigh and sent heat flooding her system. “Still waiting.”

“Fine.” She had to grit her teeth against the moan and steel herself to look him in the eye, and raised her hands.

“There’s a girl.” He brushed a surprisingly gentle kiss over her mouth, as though he knew what that had cost her, then he was straightening again and drawing a length of rope from the bag he’d set on the bed.

He grasped her wrists with firm fingers and began winding the rope around them. “I would apologize for the crudeness of this rope,” he said as he worked. “But I’m improvising.”

She would have rolled her eyes at that, but the feel of the rope distracted her. It was rough against her skin, the fibers coarse. It was the kind of all-purpose rope you’d use to tie something to the roof of the car, but thicker. It was about the width of her thumb, and the color of dried wheat.

“Try to get out of that.”

She started to obey, then froze, wary of a trick. “Why?”

His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Because I said so.”

She hesitated for another second, then decided to take him at his word. She shifted her wrists, pulling and tugging at the bonds. The rope scraped her skin, but it wasn’t painful, and she had room to move while still being unable to free herself.

“Anything pinching, biting, scratching too badly?”

She shook her head. “It’s rough, but it doesn’t hurt.”

“Good enough. Raise your arms over your head.” He took the loose end of the rope and looped it through an open space in the headboard.

She inhaled sharply as her arms were pulled above her head, instinctively struggling to free herself. The sense of helplessness at being unable to get loose brought both the sharp tang of fear and a flood of desire.

He waited, patient and steady, until her struggles ceased. “Okay?”

She nodded, licking her lips. “Yes, Sir,” she managed, and her voice was hoarse with emotion.

He stroked a finger down her cheek. “Look at you, being a good girl.”

While she dealt with the unexpected pleasure his words brought he came up with more rope, looping it around each ankle with as much care as he’d shown her hands. He left a considerable length dangling from each foot, so she expected him to tie her spread eagle to the corners of the footboard. When he directed her to bend her knees, she blinked in confusion. “What are you doing?”

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