Page 92 of Twisted Devotion

She watches me closely, searching my face like she might find the answers buried there if she just looks hard enough. I press a slow, lingering kiss to her forehead, then shift away.

Her brows knit slightly as I stand, but she doesn’t say a word. She only watches as I move across the room to the drawer where I keep the things that matter. The things that teach lessons. The things that build trust.

When I return to the bed, she’s sitting up, the sheets pooling around her waist. The bedside lamp casts a soft glow on her skin, making her look fragile and untouched. But she’s not untouched—not by life, not by pain.

Her gaze flickers to what’s in my hands. A small glint of silver catches the light.

Her lips part slightly when she realizes what I’m holding. Handcuffs. But there’s no fear in her eyes—just curiosity.

I move toward her slowly, letting the silence stretch, letting the tension coil tighter between us.

“This is the first thing that taught me control.”

She exhales softly, her gaze locked on mine. I sit on the edge of the bed, running my fingers along the inside of her wrist before taking her hand. “It also taught me trust,” I murmur, pressing a small kiss to her skin. “The two go hand in hand, you see.”

She watches me, listening intently, her breathing steady but deep. I guide her back against the pillows, trailing my lips over her collarbone before lifting her wrists above her head. The cool metal clicks softly into place, locking her in.

She doesn’t resist

Her pulse flutters at the base of her throat, fast and unsteady, but when I look into her eyes—dark, heated—I know it’s not from fear.

Yes. Forget the pain. Focus on me.

I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to be gentle or cater to someone else’s needs. I’ve never had to. But I know what I want to achieve with this.

I want her to know she’s wanted. That she’s safe here, with me. That no matter what happens outside these walls, she has this—us. So, I focus on that thought and let it fuel my movements.

“I want to teach you a lesson,” I murmur, slowly peeling away her clothes until she’s left in nothing but her panties. Her nipples are tight, begging for my touch, and I don’t deny myself the pleasure of drinking in the sight of her.

“I thought you wanted to make me feel good?” she asks, finally breaking the silence. It’s the first thing she’s said since she came back home in tears, and damn if I haven’t missed the sound of her voice.

I smirk, trailing my fingers over the curve of her waist. “Idowant to make you feel good. But more than that, I want you tofeel goodabout yourself. You don’t see how incredible you are. That changes tonight.”

She tilts her head, studying me. There’s something softer in her eyes now, a flicker of amusement as if she thinks I’m teasing. But I’m not.

I reach down, cup her bare breasts in my hands, and squeeze. Her breath catches, her back arching ever so slightly in response.

“Say it,” I murmur, my thumbs circling her nipples before pinching them just enough to make her gasp.

“Say, I’m a badass.’”

Her lips part, a shiver running through her as I roll the sensitive peaks between my fingers. She bites her lower lip, trying to hold back a reaction.

I tug a little harder, and a sharp, breathy moan escapes her.

“Say it,Bambina.”

She swallows, her voice a shaky whisper. “I’m a badass.”

“Not convincing enough.”

I lift my hand and bring it down hard on her breasts, the sharpsmackechoing through the room. Her eyes widen in shock, her body tensing as she instinctively tugs against the cuffs. But it lasts only a moment before she stills. Her gaze lifts to mine—dark, trusting, full of surrender. It’s as if she’s acknowledging that she’s completely at my mercy… and shelikesit.

I rub the reddened skin, soothing the sting. “Every time you doubt yourself, you’ll be punished,” I murmur, my fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles over the warmth of her flesh.

Shifting, I lean back against the headboard and pull her across my lap in one smooth motion. She lands with a soft gasp, her chest pressed against the bed, her cheek resting on the back of her cuffed hand.

The position must be slightly uncomfortable, but she doesn’t complain.

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