Page 99 of Bound By Her

The woman in here, threatening him, was the real Adria, he was sure of it. The other version of her was just playing an elaborate game. There was not a doubt in his mind that she would leave him with Eric. Hell, she would probably watch.

He stayed still.

Not because he was afraid of Eric. He stayed still because of Kaydon and Seth. Seth was in no shape to leave right now, and he had given them his word. And Bryson needed time to figure out how he was going to keep it.

“The bench over there, lay over it,” she said, turning her back to him.

She wasn’t watching. Was she so sure he would obey? It was quite the gamble to take.

Was he so transparent?

His father’s words hit him, “You have allowed yourself to have attachments and, as such, are more vulnerable.”

Bryson didn’t want to give in to her. He definitelydidn’t want to be alone with her. But he also needed her to know that whatever she dished out, he could take it and then some. He wasn’t afraid of her, or anyone, for that matter.

Standing on his tiptoes, he brought his hips to the cold bench. Hinging forward, he lay on the leather bench as instructed.

Bring it on.

The cool leather licked at his skin, and his hands dropped to his sides.

She moved behind him, grabbing each ankle and spreading his legs further apart with rough precision before locking them into place.

His pulse thundered in his ears.

As usual, she was methodical.

Each action measured. Intentional.

After securing his ankles, she moved to his wrists, her fingernails dragging along his ribs. Pausing, she pressed lightly against the site of the old break.

“Does it hurt?”

If she wanted an answer, she shouldn’t have gagged him.

But even if she hadn’t, Bryson wouldn’t have given her the satisfaction of a response.

She sighed, grabbed his wrist, and guided his arm up along the side of the bench.

The restraints buckling into place.

He tested them.

Each arm had a slight give—just enough to grip the handles positioned near his fingers.

His stomach tightened.

“I have a thought about your behavior as of late,” she mused, unbuckling his pants, letting them fall to the floor.

Heat licked at his exposed skin.

Tingling. Anticipating.

As a group, they’d all received corrections—spankings, paddlings?—

But never alone with her.

Never like this.

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