Page 150 of Ward Willing
Once we’re through the front door, we walk hand in hand toward the private elevator. Once inside, I use my card to take us up to the Royal Suite. Zoe whistles when we step inside, taking in the large suite. Before I’d met her at the bar, I’d taken great care to hide her things, so it would feel as authentic as possible.
As she turns around and looks at me, her cheeks are flushed. “This is incredible.”
I smile as I gesture for her to walk through the suite, giving her a quick tour. Sheooh’sandahh’swhen we get to the bathroom, her long, red nail trailing down the gold accents.
“Would you like a drink?” I offer, and the furrow between her brows nearly makes me laugh.
So impatient.
“No, thank you,” she says quickly. Walking over to me, her heels clack against the tile of the bathroom. Laying her hands on my chest, she looks up at me hopefully. “I’m already very hydrated,” she adds, eyes flashing as she arches one brow in challenge.
“Good girl,” I mutter, doing my best not to react to her in the way a husband would. “Why don’t you go wait for me in the master bedroom?”
“How would you like me?”
Fuck…
“Kneeling and naked, palms up. Leave your shoes on.”
“Naked? Really? So we’re going to get right down to business then?”
I cock my head at her. “Tell me, Ms. Arma, since you were always such a good student,” I purr. “What did you think I had planned tonight?”
Zoe’s breathing turns erratic as she stares at me boldly. “I don’t know. How often do you bring former students to your fancy suite and ask them to serve you?” she asks, crossing her arms.
Ah, so I get my defiant, little wife tonight.
Fine.
“You’re the only one. I seem to have a provocation for bratty brunettes who like to torture me by wearingfuck meheels.”
She inhales sharply, and I can tell the control over my emotions is affecting her—which, from past experience, means she really needs me to double down now more than ever.
“I’m not going to ask twice,” I tell her.
I see the second she concedes—the way her expression goes from resistant to compliant. With a small huff, she walks out of the bathroom, and I watch her go, listening to the way her heels click with each step—and faltering when she notices exactly what kind of surprise is waiting for her on the bed.
After three torturous, long minutes, I walk out of the bathroom, across the suite, to the master bedroom. My hands are casually in my pockets, and I smile when I see Zoe kneeling—naked—by the side of the bed.
I take in the spike of her heels against the soft skin of her ass and hips, fingers curling with anticipation.
“Do you like your present, Ms. Arma?” I ask, walking over to the leather restraint and picking it up with one finger.
“I do, Professor Ravage.”
Letting my eyes peruse her body, I take in her soft, voluminous breasts—her soft stomach, her hips, and the gorgeous stretch marks spanning her lower abdomen and thighs.
She looks like the most beautiful warrior I’ve ever seen.
“That’s good. For a long time, I refused to try bondage,” I tell her, though she knows the truth. “But tonight, I think I can manage it. Is bondage something you enjoy?”
Zoe quickly exhales, and I have to try not to laugh at her obvious excitement. “Yes. I love it.”
“Stand up and bend over the bed, please.”
She does as I say, teetering slightly as she walks to the bed and lays across it, ass up.
I walk up behind her, enjoying the way her skin pebbles when I brush against her. Even now, almost four years later, her response to me is beautiful. I lean over her small frame and pull her up slightly, placing the leather straps around her breasts before buckling it around her ribs. And then, with a tiny bit of trepidation, I buckle her arms behind her back.
