Page 134 of How to Belong with a Billionaire

“Well, you could, like, tie me to the corners and stuff?”

Caspian made a sound like he’d choked on air.

“I mean,” I went on, “since the house isn’t big enough for a sex dungeon, we’re going to have make do.”

There was a long silence.

Then, with a kind of studied blandness, “Do you want one?”

“Nope. The whole world can be our sex dungeon.” I smirked at him over my shoulder. “You can cuff me to the kitchen table. And spank me on the sofa. And put me on my knees in the shower. And, oh”—another idea occurred to me—“can we have fairy lights? I love fairy lights.”

“Yes, my Arden. We can have all of it.” Caspian was laughing and suddenly the whole room felt different. Warmer and brighter, its corners softer, its shadows less dense.

His arms slid round my waist and he pulled me back against him and I yelped because I’d forgotten—evidently we’d both forgotten—about my shoulder, the cotton of Caspian’s shirt suddenly as rough as a goddamn Brillo Pad.

“I’m so sorry.” He stepped away immediately. ”That was thoughtless of me.”

“Don’t worry. I’m mostly fine. I think.”

I twisted, trying to see, and then Caspian stilled me. “Let me look.” His fingers brushed lightly across my spine—close enough to the wound that I made an anxious whimpery noise, but not close enough to actually cause me pain. “There’s a little blood and some bruising. I should clean this for you.”

He disappeared into the bathroom and was at my side again in seconds, damp handkerchief in hand. “I wish I had some antiseptic, though I don’t think you’re in any danger of infection.”

His touch was ridiculously careful, but still made me hiss through my teeth and curl my toes into the carpet. “Goodie.”

“I hate,” Caspian growled, “that he hurt you.”

“Well, I hate that you were going to let him hurtyou. So I guess we’re even?”

“Perhaps I should take you to a doctor.” His palm landed, half-reassuring, half-possessive, against the small of my back “I’m worried this could leave a permanent mark.”

“I hope it does,” I said, surprising myself by how fiercely I meant it. “That way you’ll always be able to see the difference between something like this and what we do together.”

“I should learn to bear my own scars.”

“You have enough. I’m proud to bear this one for you.”

“Arden…” He seemed to lose his words again, pressing a kiss to my shoulder instead. Even though he was nowhere near the place Nathaniel had struck me, the heat from his mouth and the heat from the cut flowed together, rushing in a red-gold river all the way down to my cock.

Chapter 45

Iarched and moaned—far too loudly in the silence of that sleeping house.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” murmured Caspian, “that you look stunning tonight.”

“I’m afraid it’s”—my breath hitched as his lips landed against the nape of my neck—“it’s not my frock.”

“Then I’ll have to take you shopping.”

“Oh God. Would you really?”

The zip rasped as Caspian slowly drew it down. “Yes. We’ll go to Bahnhofstrasse and the Avenue Montaigne, Fifth Avenue, Ginza…”

“Rodeo Drive?” I suggested, lost in myPretty Womanmoment.

“Anywhere. Everywhere.” His fingers traced the straps of my dress all the way across my back—such a strange sensation, silk and skin together—until he was inching them down my arms. “I’ll lay the world at your feet.”

“You’re the only world I’ve ever wanted. But I have to admit”—I squirmed helplessly as the gown began to slip from my body, making me feel incredibly exposed even though I was still almost fully clothed—“the shopping does sound fun.”

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