Page 61 of Reveal Me
‘I would never hurt you. I’m yours. In every way.’ If only I could rip open my chest and show him–he has my heart. It beats for him–whether I want it to or not.
He fastens the cool chrome restraints around my wrists, and then my ankles with a definitive click. I’m trapped. Not just by the metal, but by the weight of everything we can’t have. ‘I need to explain. About the other night.’ I twist my head to the point of pain to meet his eye. ‘But I don’t want to… terrify you.’
His shoulders tense as he folds his arms across his chest. ‘You’re the one shackled to the cross, and you’re worried about terrifying me?’ A disbelieving laugh rumbles from his throat. He stalks around the back of the cross to save my neck—I think.
‘Yes,’ I swallow thickly.
‘Go on.’ Curiosity blazes in his pupils.
‘I went out with Ashworth in public in order to buy time with you in private. I… I want to be with you.’ My eyes fall to the floor. Why is baring my heart to him so much harder than baring my body?
The answer slams into my stomach like a slap-because if he rejects me now, my heart would hurt so much more than any torture he could inflict on my flesh.
The truth of it hits me like a sledgehammer. I’ve fallen for him. Hard and fast.
The dim spotlight spills across his darkening expression. ‘You want to be with me?’ he repeats, the words rolling slowly off his tongue.
No point holding back now. ‘Every minute of every damn day,’ I whisper.
His eyebrows furrow.
‘I know it’s not what we signed up for. I didn’t plan on developing feelings for you. But how could I not, when we have this? When you make me feel more alive than I ever have in my life.’ I move my arms as much as the restraints will allow, which isn’t a lot.
Understanding lights his ebony orbs.
‘I’m not ready to go home. I’m not ready to go back to a life without this.’ I meet his eyes again. ‘A life without you. If I don’t at least look like I’m making some progress on finding a marriage match, my parents will drag me home.’
His expression softens as he steps forward and brushes his fingers over my cheek in a rare show of tenderness. ‘I don’t like it. Not one fucking bit. Because I want to be with you too, princess. Every second of every damn day.’ His nostrils flare. ‘I can’t bear to see you with another man, Layla. So help me God, I won’t be able to stop myself next time. If someone so much as lays a hand on you, it sets me feral.’ He steps back again.
‘No one is going to touch me. No one but you. I’m yours. Every single inch of me.’
‘Every single inch?’ His eyes blaze with heat and hunger as he circles back around the cross, to place his hand on my ass cheek.
Understanding dawns. Lust pools in my stomach and lower. He wants to go where no man has gone before. And I’ll let him, because I trust him with my body and oddly enough, with my heart. I’m utterly in love with the man, and he has no idea. ‘Every. Single. Inch. Take me, I’m yours.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
SEAN
The princess is a vision spread legged against the cross. I could stare at her all damn night. But it’s not her body that’s making me hard. It’s her words. Trust hasn’t come easy to me, not since Hannah, but there’s something about Layla that makes me want to try. She’s giving every inch of her body to me. I need to man up and do the same.
‘Do you trust me, princess?’
‘Yes. But more importantly, do you trust me?’
‘I’m working on it.’ I stride towards the glass cabinet at the far end of the room, my shoes thwack menacingly across the marble. I deliberately muted the music in here tonight so I could savour every single one of her moans.
Running my hands over the carefully curated selection of paddles and crops before settling on a silk flogger with chrome tipped falls that will sing against her skin. Her shaky breath fills the air as I stride back towards her.
‘Do you remember your safeword?’
‘Am I going to need it?’ she pants as I trail the instrument over her spine, watching goosebumps rise in its wake. Herbreath catches as I trace patterns across her skin. She arches into the touch instinctively seeking more.
‘Not if you answer correctly.’ I crack the silk across her backside, hard enough to sting but not actually hurt. ‘Who gets to touch you?’
Her squeal pierces the air, followed by a moan of pleasure. ‘You.’
‘Who do you think about when you touch yourself?’ I trail the flogger over her ass cheek where a red mark is already beginning to form, caressing it gently.
