Page 30 of Fractured (Not Quite a Billionaire)
He was looking at me so intently, watching for my answer.
I nodded.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
Another nod.
“Good,” he said. “Because you’re about to find out just how helpless you can be.” He took one of my wrists in each hand, dragged them up above my head, and was wrapping another length of fabric around them, and I felt the jerk as he fastened me to the bar of the headboard.
“Pull,” he said, and when I didn’t do it fast enough, he yanked at the tie, making me feel the stretch.“Pull.”
I pulled, and he watched me do it. I wanted to say something, and I couldn’t. I was naked, I was gagged, and I was tied to Hemi’s bed. And I was already halfway gone.
“Can’t get free, eh,” he said. I looked at him, knowing I was wide-eyed, and he said, “I’m afraid it’s going to get even harder now, sweetheart. Lift your hips for me.”
I swallowed, my mouth already dry, and did it, and he shoved a pillow under my hips, then added another one, so I was raised high. And then he went to the foot of the bed, took hold of one of my ankles, and dragged it slowly to one side.
I couldn’t see what he was doing, but I could feel it. The spider was tying me to his web. He’d fastened the other ankle now, and my legs were spread wide, my hips raised for him, and I was trying to pant, but not able to.
I expected him to come over me, to pleasure me with his hands and mouth until I wanted to beg him, needed to pull him to me, to hurry him up…and wouldn’t be able to do any of it.
It would be too much to take. I knew it. And I couldn’t wait.
He didn’t do it. Instead, he stood over me, drew his hand between my parted legs, and began to explore me, touching me with nothing but that hand.
I was so wet, I could tell. I was making some noises in the back of my throat, too, but I couldn’t get them out.
Hemi was talking, though. Low. Dark. Fierce. And his hand…his hand…
“Who’s saucy now?” he asked. “I’ve got you bound and gagged, and you’re going to see what happens to girls who tell me no. I’m going to make you scream, but you won’t be able to scream. You’re just going to have to lie there and take it.”
He was rubbing hard, taking me up fast, and I was stiffening, everything in me tightening, needing to get there. Needing to make noise, and not able to.
Almost there. Almost…
Just like that, he took his hand away, and I was breathing hard through the fabric, trying to shift, trying to moan, and not able to do any of it.
He stood up, drew the black trousers down his body, and tossed them aside. And then he was over me, on his elbows, so big and so strong, and I wanted to sayYes.I wanted to sayPlease.But I couldn’t.
He stroked a hand over my hair, brushed it back from my cheek, and asked, “Do you want this?”
I nodded frantically, and he…smiled.He rolled off me, was down at the foot of the bed, unfastening my ankle, and I wanted to sayNo. Please, no. Please do it.And then he unfastened the other one.
“Changed my mind,” he said. “This is just too good.” He got both hands around my hips, and he was flipping me. Turning me over, so the fabric crossed about my wrists in an X, pulling my arms even tighter, and then he had my ankle in his hand again, was fastening it tight, then doing the other one.
The pillows were under my stomach now, and I was shaking with need and nerves. Hemi was over me again, his hard body heavy against mine, his hand drawing my hair back from my face again.
“Time to nod, sweetheart,” he said in my ear. And the second I did it, he plunged home.
He’d been right to gag me, because there was no way I wouldn’t have called out.Yes,I was saying frantically inside.Yes. This was it. The angle of it, the wonderful friction…it had my eyes closing. I couldn’t move, couldn’t ask, couldn’t moan. And every single bit of my attention was centered on one thing. On Hemi inside me.
A hard thrust, a slow withdrawal. An achingly long pause, and then the thrust again, hard enough that my hips jerked. I could hear my blood roaring, Hemi’s labored breathing over me, and that was all. I could see his heavy arm propping him up, there beside my face, golden candlelight flickering over bronzed skin and swirling tattoo, and nothing more.
But I could feel. Oh, could I feel him, plunging and retreating. The tension was building, higher and higher, and I couldn’tmove.
When his stealthy fingers sneaked around and found me again, I moaned into the gag. He heard me, I could tell, because he began moving more slowly inside me even as the tempo of his fingers increased. Focusing on my pleasure, not his own. His lips brushed my ear as he murmured, “Feels good, eh?”
I nodded twice, jerkily, willing him to go on, and he said, “You’re so pretty, baby. So pretty. So I’m going to touch you some more.”
