Page 76 of Kings of Sherwood

Will nods, sliding to the edge of the mattress before producing something supple, sheened, and black.

“Simple enough.” He gives it a tug, and I see it for what it is—a strap, of some sort, with a thicker black cuff on the end. “Very secure. Not abrasive.” He unrolls the cuff, takes my hand, brushes the material against the inner skin of my wrist. “See?”

It glides. Easy. Silky. I shiver a little.

“Smooth, but...firm.” He withdraws it, gives it a little tug. “Weight-tested. No fraying, scratching, or stretching out. Got one on each, ah, cardinal direction of the mattress. Four corners.”

“Just...tied there?” I peer around, looking for them, but seeing nothing visible.

“Anchored in,” Will replies. “Special hardware.”

I nod. It’s a little intimidating, how much he knows about all of this. And how littleIdo. Because I guess this is a thing people do—have done. Will has. With other people.

A wave of self-consciousness floods over me. “Sturdy is good,” I mutter. “And sanitized, I hope.”

“Machine-washable, yes,” Will says. “Why?”

“Well...” My face gets brilliantly hot. “You’ve used these. They’ve been...used.”

“These?” He shakes his head. “Specifically? Not at all. Brand new. Granted, I’ve owned similar makes and models, before, but...” He turns the cuff over in his hand, inspecting. “These were all recent purchases.”

“So you’ve done this before.”

“A few times. For kicks.” He shrugs. “Had do tosomethingback in Boston to occupy my time between drinking myself to oblivion and seething at my parents.”

It’s hard, I admit, to picture Will with another woman—or man, I guess, as the case may be. He must read my mind,because he goes on. “But that’s a while ago now. Haven’t done any of that in a long time. Certainly not since getting here.”

“You haven’t?”

“Not yet,” Will affirms. “But I wanted to be ready.”

A nervous laugh escapes my throat. “What, in case you picked up some girl at the Crossbridge Inn and she wanted a...freaky forest mansion one-night stand?”

He cracks a smile. “No, silly. In caseyouwere ready.”

Gears in my mind start to turn, a timeline trying to piece together.

“So...wait. How long has this all been here?”

“Since about...” He thinks. “Three days after you arrived. Approximately.”

My throat goes dry. “Really?”

“You want the shipping manifests? I saidapproximately.” He squints. “I made the regrettable—or maybe not, ultimately—choice of giving you too much wine one night, and you said something about being a bad girl...well.” He shrugs. “Couldn’t getthatout of my head. Had to beat off in the powder room just to think straight again.”

Oh my God. My ears burn, my neck burns, my...everything burns. I’m as embarrassed as I am...flattered.

“And then...yes, little shopping spree. What can I say? I’m rich, bored, and self-indulgent. But...one thing leads to another, you run away, get kidnapped, come back, weallrun away, we murder a guy...” He trails off. “Never really had a chance to bring it up with you. And so here we are.”

“I...see,” I say. It’s a lot to take in. Not in a bad way, though.

Because the way Will’s looking at me makes me hungry for his touch. His...everything.

He sinks his teeth into his lower lip and leans in an inch or two. “So, Maren, if you’ll forgive me for being blunt,” hewhispers. “I’ve got a raging erection and I need to have you tied to this bed five minutes ago.”

I swallow. Nod. “Okay.”

“Okay?” His voice is thick. “Or yes?”

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