Page 27 of The Billionaire's Baby
I nod.
"How does that feel?"
Strange, but not as much as I would have expected. It’s actually freeing… Like I don’t have to do anything but follow the sensations as he ties me up.OMG, he’s tying me up! What the hell is he going to do to me after?My heart begins to thud and my pulse quickens. I draw in a breath, but I can’t seem to get enough air.
"Hey." He wraps his arms around me, and pulls me up against his chest. "You okay?"
I shake my head vigorously.No, no… Jeez, this isn’t what I signed up for.Give me the cold impersonal touch of the technician who slides the sperm into my uterus.
He tucks my head under his chin, tightens his hold about my body. The hard warmth of him sinks into my blood. The planes of his chest dig into my back. The pain is almost a comfort.
"Shh." He lowers his head, presses his cheek into mine. "You’re safe, I promise. I’ll never let anyone harm you."
But who will keep me safe from you?
Bloody hell, stop with that line of thought.Alphahole, here, is simply screwing with my head. Mean one moment, soft the next, and this entire tying me up thing… Bet it’s simply to signal to me that he is the dominant one in this relationship. To flout his ownership, no doubt. Doesn’t mean anything. A shudder grips me. I set my jaw, take a fortifying breath.
"Ready to resume?" he asks.
I straighten my shoulders. I can do this. I can match him step for step. I nod.
"You’re fucking perfect." He presses a hard kiss to the corner of my mouth. A flush ripples over my skin. He moves away and I lean in his direction.
He chuckles. "Soon. First I want to ensure you’re relaxed."
Relaxed? He’s kidding right? How am I supposed to relax when I’m all bound up?
He continues to knot the rope at my back, then slide the knots—
"They’re called wings." He says as he tugs on the ropes that slide up each arm.
He tugs the center of the binding that sits in a heavy chain down my spine.
"How does it feel now?"
I tilt my head.Not sure really.
"Would you like it tighter?
Yes.
Yes.
No.I shake my head.
"Okay, maybe next time?"
Keep dreaming.
He continues placing the knots against my spine, then finally, pulls my wrists together at my back. He places my palms together and whispers the top around my palms. He knots and tugs, then sits back. "Beautiful."
The reverence in his voice makes me blink behind my blindfold.
He guides me up to my feet, then hoists me up onto the bed, on my knees. He presses down on my upper back and I bend over and press my cheek into the mattress. He grips my thighs and pries them apart. Cool air hits my center. I shudder. My breathing grows more shallow. I am painfully conscious of where I am—on his yacht, in the middle of nowhere, away from anyone I could reach for help, and bound and blindfolded with my ass up in the air. My core clenches, moisture pools between my legs. I swallow and wait… Wait.
"You’re gorgeous." His low voice shudders up my spine. I press my palms together, and damnit, if he hasn’t orchestrated it so that I seem to be praying to him… Begging him… Pleading to him... For what?
He grips my hips on either side, his palms so big, so warm that surely, each fingerprint is burned into my flesh.
