Page 49 of Princess of Thieves

I nod, my mouth hopelessly dry.

Will smiles. “Use your words, pretty lady.”

Hearing Rob’s pet name for me out of Will’s curling lips sends a jolt of arousal deep into me.

“Stay there,” I repeat.

From God knows where, Will produces a thin leather strap, and before Rob can move, can leave his chair, his wrists are yanked behind him, bound together.

“What do you think?” Will steps back, tips his head at his handiwork. “Should he stay there, Maren?”

“Mmhm,” I manage. My fingers tighten with need, struggling to stay still.

“Words, Maren.”

“Stay,” I say again, my voice trembling but loud.

“Perfect.” Will smiles. “Now. What do you want?” He looks at me, cocks his head. “From me, from him. Anything.”

My pulse skitters, my mind wheeling. Half-formed images, sounds carousel through my imagination, all primal, forceful. Almost too much for me to parse. I clench my fingers around my seat, eyes fluttering shut.

“Choice is a lot,” Will remarks. “Maybe some boundaries. Or...a suggestion or two?”

I look up into his face—hopeful, expectant, even as I can tell his blood is running as hot as mine.

I nod. “Sure.”

He nods back. “All right.” He throws a glance at Rob, then at me. “What we could do, Maren, is I could take you, right here. Bend you over this couch”—he skates a palm over the black leather surface—“and fuck you so hard you’ll break glass when you scream. And that poor bastard will have to watch every second, every movement, every little shiver of your skin and flutter of your pretty little eyelashes, without being able to move a damn muscle.”

Yes. It’s an instinct more than a full thought, a feeling more than words or a sentence. My body knows it—warm, tingling, my nipples already swelling against my shirt. All I can do is nod.

“Words, Maren,” Will says gently, even as his eyes spark with delight. “Use your words. Say what you want.”

“Yes,” I say, somehow. “Fuck me, Will.”

Will grins—wicked and he knows it. “Good girl.”

He curls a smile at me. “Now, come here.”

He beckons for me, looking for all the world like a silver-haired fallen angel. When I don’t move, he frowns.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The command in his voice is unmistakable. I rise, unsteady at first, and go to him. He grabs my arm, gentle but sure, and even the press of his palm sends a ricochet right to the slick center of me.

“May I?”

In his seat, Rob stirs, curving his neck like he doesn’t want to watch and can’t resist watching all at once.

He’s powerless. And I’m not.

“Yes,” I tell Will.

“Good.”

He leans down and nips my neck, sending a hot shock through my system. Swift as anything, he pulls his mouth away, turns my face to his and kisses me, his lips soft and sure but his tongue firm, demanding. As he does, he snakes a hand down my front, finds the top of my shorts, slips his fingers to circle my already-swollen clit.

“Hnh.” I startle but don’t pull away, don’t stop the kiss, just take it deeper, let him go deeper, swirling, teasing.

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