Page 92 of Bound By Her

But fuck?—

She liked the feel of his neck beneath her hand. She leveraged her weight, and the chair tipped back slightly.

Bryson struggled.

The restraints held.

Adria watched as anger and fear warred across his face—as the realization dawned.

He was truly helpless.

She could feel his pulse hammering against her palm. She leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “If you want ithard,” she whispered, “trust me when I say?—”

Her fingers tightened. “—I understand that a lot more than you think.”

A shudder raked through his body.

The pleasure ofit rippled through her in turn, sinkingdeepinto her core.

She had him.

His life in her hands.

It would only take a little more pressure.

Alittle more.

Her gaze drifted over his body?—

To the Romanian script inked along his left flank, below the dark sweep of a feather:

"The world breaks everyone, and afterward some are strong in the broken places."

His pulse slowed. Black spots would be forming in his vision.

A little longer—and he would pass out.

Longer still—and he would be dead.

She let go.

The chair thudded back onto all four legs. Bryson gasped, his breath returning in ragged bursts.

Slowly, the room tilted back into focus and Adria stepped away. A steady tremor ran through her fingers, her body buzzing with leftover adrenaline.

She turned.

“Finish eating,” she ordered.

“Then untie him.”

Her heels echoed against the marble as she fled.

It wasn’t until she was in her room—alone—that she allowed herself to register it.

Bryson had been hard.

The realization landed like a punch, sending a ripple of something dark through her.

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