Page 44 of Candy Cane Chains

His shirt falls open, revealing a hint of his sculpted chest. There's still healing cuts and bruises from a few days ago, but he doesn't seem to feel discomfort from it. He shrugs it off, the fabric pooling on the floor. His hands move to his belt, the clink of metal against metal echoing in the silent room.

I watch, mesmerized, as he undresses before me. His body is a work of art, all hard lines and rough edges. The tattoos that adorn his skin tell a story of pain and power. He's a predator, a king in his own right. And I'm his prey, his subject.

His touch is light as he traces the ribbon along my thighs. "So fucking beautiful. Look at you, all wrapped up for me."

His praise sends a surge of warmth through me. I feel desperate, needy. I want his touch, his approval. I want him.

Julian's fingers trail along my thigh one last time before he straightens up. "Don't move. I'll be right back."

He turns and walks out, leaving me bound and exposed. The first minute passes easily enough – the anticipation building. By minute three, my skin prickles with unease. At minute five, my throat tightens.

The silence of the room presses in. My wrists strain against the ribbon, no longer feeling playful but confining. Each tick of the clock on his nightstand hammers against my skull.

He's not coming back.

The thought slithers in uninvited. My chest constricts. The room spins. Every man who's ever walked away flashes through my mind. I swallow hard against the feeling, used to feeling forgotten. How many times have I’ve been stood up, has a phone call been more important than me? What is Julian really doing?

Is he going to reject me, too?

I struggle against the ribbons, my breathing shallow. Sweat breaks out across my skin as a form of panic sets in. The pretty bows now feel like chains. I need to get free, need to-

The door opens. Julian strides in, holding something red and white in his hand. He takes one look at my face and drops whatever he's holding. In two steps, he's at my side.

"Breathe, Ivy." His hands cup my face, thumbs stroking my cheeks. "I'm here."

"I thought-" My voice cracks. "I thought you weren't coming back."

"Look at me." His ice-blue eyes lock with mine, grounding me. "I will always come back to you."

He quickly unties my wrists, gathering me against his chest. His heartbeat steadies my own. The scent of his skin fills my lungs and starts to help ease everything in me.

"I just went to grab these." He reaches down, picking up what he dropped – a box of candy canes. "Thought we could have some fun with them."

A wet laugh escapes me. "Candy canes?"

"Mmm." His fingers thread through my hair, massaging my scalp. "Though now I'm thinking I need to prove to you just how much I plan to stay."

The last of my panic melts away under his touch, replaced by a different kind of tension. His lips brush my temple, my cheek, the corner of my mouth.

Julian's eyes search mine, steady and reassuring. His thumb brushes my cheekbone, grounding me. "Don't run from the dark, Ivy. Let's turn it into something else."

He retrieves the box of candy canes, opening it with a sharp crack. The scent of peppermint fills the air, cool and invigorating. I watch, curious, as he unwraps one, the red and white stripes vivid against his scarred hands.

"What are you-" I start, but he silences me with a look.

"Trust me." His voice is commanding, leaving no room for argument.

I squeeze my thighs together as I watch him bring a candy cane to his mouth, sucking on the end and then biting it off. He traces the tip of the candy cane along my collarbone, the sensation cool against my heated skin, a little scratch with a little pain.

My breath hitches as he trails it lower, circling my nipple through the lace of my bra. The peppermint leaves a tingling chill in its wake, hardening the peak.

"Julian..." His name escapes my lips like a secret.

He leans down, his breath warm as he blows on the dampened lace. The contrast in temperature sends a shockwave of pleasure through me. My back arches, pressing my breast further into his mouth. He chuckles, low and dark, before repeating the process on my other nipple.

I squirm under his touch, but I don't reach for him. I hold perfectly still, reminding myself that I have nothing to worry about with him. Panic still lurks at the edges of my mind, but it's morphing, twisting into something more intense, more desperate.

Julian unwraps another candy cane, this time tracing it along the inside of my thighs. The coolness is a sharp contrast to the heat pooling there. He blows on the moistened skin, making me shiver.

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