Page 55 of Silent Ties

Turning slowly, I worry about what I’ll find.

His phone is in his hand. “Did you just pay thirty dollars in delivery fees?”

Standing there holding the giant box, I nod.

“Why?” He frowns. “It qualified for free shipping.”

I spent three hundred dollars on sex toys and he’s more concerned about the price of shipping?

“But I’d have had to wait two days.”

His frown deepens as he glances at his phone. “And you couldn’t wait?”

“Some things can’t wait.”

Max sighs, setting his phone on the desk. “You needed a vibrator right this second?”

He says it so casually. Other than the disappointment regarding the shipping fees, his face remains blank.

“Yes, I do.” If I wasn’t holding the giant box, I would flip my hair off my shoulder. Instead, my toes curl into the wood floor as I stand under his scrutiny.

His glasses reflect the computer screen. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Just make sure to clean up afterwards.”

My face turns the same shade as my nightgown.

Why can’t I have a normal husband? Oh, right, because I married a mafia prince without ever speaking to him first.

A strong, tingling sensation wakes me up. Not understanding at first I try to roll over, getting my bearings.

What the fuck? My hands are pulled over my head. Thepanties I’d gone to sleep in, are tied tight, pinning my wrists to the headboard.

“What the—” The words are hoarse with sleep.

Max is beside me, lying on his side, his head propped up by his hand. Fingers slowly run across my cunt, up and down methodically.

“What is that?” I ask. The cool sensation is too strong.

His brows lift slightly. “You didn’t want to try the arousal cream you got?”

“Huh?” I say like I have no idea what he’s talking about.

He smirks, shifting slightly and then rips the silk nightgown like it’s nothing. The air is even stronger against my throbbing pussy. I don’t know what time it is since I can’t look at my phone but I’m destabilized at my position. I didn’t feel Max pushing back the covers or taking off my underwear. Hell, he tied me up while I slept.

Now, his fingers glide over my bare stomach. He takes his time, holding up the bottle of gel which I added last minute to my shopping cart.

“Is it intensifying and stimulating enough?” he asks, reading from the back of the bottle.

As if my face wasn’t red before.

“You think the orgasm will be intense enough?” He squirts more gel onto his fingers, tracing circles around my nipples.

“Max,” I cry out at the cold sensation. My skin buzzes, both from the gel and the way his eyes stare at me.

Max is dark. He likes his rough play as much as I do. But this guy sarcastically reading off an arousal gel bottle? Does Max actually have a playful side?

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