Page 24 of His Dark Purpose

“We do.” His breath caught, his gaze flitting to her hand. “You know I love you.”

“Do I?” There hadn’t been much love in the last few hours.

“Yes.” His voice was emphatic. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

“And this?” She gestured to her ankles. “Are those ropes a demonstration of your love, sir?”

“In a way.” His tone was almost wistful as his gaze locked with hers. “I can’t lose you, Amy. I won’t let that happen.”

“So, you tie me up?” She appreciated the irony of her answer. She’d spent the last few weeks surrendering to his every whim to tie her and loved every moment. But she didn’t love what was happening anymore.

“You never complained before.” His wry tone exemplified the reply she’d anticipated.

“But I am now, sir.” Her tone was imploring. “Why doesn’t that mean anything to you?” He obviously didn’t love her as much as he purported if he wasn’t prepared to at least see her point of view on something so fundamental as her personal liberty.

“It does mean something.” He turned away as though she’d slapped him. “But it doesn’t change the situation, little girl.”

“You mean we don’t trust each other.”

There, she’d said it. It was what they were both thinking, after all.

A crease appeared in his brow. “I can’t trust you while you want to flee.”

There he was, immediately directing all culpability back in her direction.

“And what about my trust?” She truly wanted to help him see sense, but he wasn’t making it simple. Nothing with Kyle was ever easy, though—not unless it involved him paying for something she’d invariably feel uncomfortable about. “What are you going to do about that?”

“I’m going to do what we both want me to.” He spun, grabbing her wrist before she could tug away.

“What?” Alarm ratcheted inside her from one to ten in only a few seconds. Her head was spinning as he yanked her toward him, but before she could find her footing, he’d walked back to the nearest sofa, dragging her with him until the ropes at her feet were taut.

“I will not cave in.”

His voice was like thunder, and with one hard shove, he sent her tumbling down over his lap. She went with a cry, the ropes at her ankles insisting her feet rise to accommodate their confines.

“What the hell?” Floundering, she fought against the dizzying disorientation.

One moment, she’d been hoping she was making some headway with Kyle, then the next, she was head first over his thighs again. Of course, she knew what that meant—the bastard thought he had the liberty to spank her when they hadn’t even finished talking. A faux punishment was the furthest thing from her mind.

“Quiet.” One of his vast palms pinned her down in the small of her back while the other roamed beneath the pathetic skirt and squeezed her otherwise exposed cheeks. “You know what you’re here for.”

“Wait!” She tried to kick her legs and attempt to get away, but the blasted ropes that had hoisted her feet into the air meant she couldn’t even reach the plush carpet.

“Wrong.” His hand departed her flesh, smacking down on her upturned backside before she could catch her breath. “It’s too late.”

Chapter Eight

Debts Owed

Kyle

The world around him was muted, as though there was nothing else in it save for the fabulous creamy flesh of the woman strewn over him.

Amy.

The woman he was fixated with, the woman who’d blown up his entire universe, the woman he loved.

He could scarcely remember a time before she was in his life. From the years he watched her from the sidelines to the ones where she’d been his, whatever life had been without her was nothing more than an empty memory.

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