Page 24 of Seven Nights

Have you ever been in cuffs before?

Certainly you've been naughty enough—do you like wearing them?

I had tersely, but politely navigated my way through the questions then managed to block the auction's details from my memory until now. Sensations I had denied feeling rise up to taunt me, magnifying as my body resonates with today’s memories. Me on the bed, the impact of Griffin's palm still stinging my ass while his fingers explored my wet interior. My promise to be a good pet and my mewling pleas that he allow me to come.

All along, he knew the restraints were in the box. Does he also know that I had once worn them? Was he the original buyer from that auction?

Dismissing the scenario as unlikely, I continue studying his gift for some other significance that will have me running away or submitting completely. I see nothing but details I would note on a receipt. A gold chain has replaced the brass one sold at auction. A new fabric lining has been stitched on the inside of the cuffs and embroidered with letters in a golden flax. I flatten the leather, my gaze soaking in the calming champagne-colored silk as I read the word.

It is a name.

It is my name.

Katelyn

Dropping the restraints, I stagger away from the box.

My leg brushes the side of the bed. I collapse onto the mattress, my heart refusing to slow or soften its rapid, pounding beat against the back of my sternum.

Things are starting to make sense, but only in a ridiculous way that should have no place in reality.

Griffin knows about the auction, about my connection to the cuffs. That is the source of their power to make or break the contract. But when and how did he piece together my identity with that of the woman standing at the auctioneer's podium?

Less than two days have passed since I stood outside his private garden. Is it possible that he found someone to stitch my name in the silk and attach the lining to the leather with such craftsmanship in so little time? Did the inclusion of the charity on my resume trigger his memory of the auction or has he been tracking me for longer?

The bedroom door swings inward. The light from the hall silhouettes Griffin's long, lean frame. Black silk pajamas hug his lower body, the rest of his flesh exposed. His gaze too intense for me, I close my eyes, but not before I see him take a predatory lick of his top lip.

“Tell me, pet,” he murmurs from the doorway. “Have you decided when I had your name stitched in?"

Griffin

I watchas Katelyn inhales deeply and closes her eyes. The thought that she is in my bed and trembling makes me harder than I could have ever imagined. I have her exactly where I want, where she was meant to be. It should feel like melodrama, but it doesn’t. The way everything came together feels like fate, starting with a canceled board meeting and vandals flattening two tires on my limo on the day of Alstrom’s kinky live-feed auction.

No auction, no obsession.

No HR screw-up, no interview scheduled between me and Katelyn.

No mugging, no Katelyn outside my garden looking vulnerable, yet strong as fuck.

That’s as close to fate as the real world gets.

I step into the room and close the door behind me. She flinches when the lock clicks in place, her body tightening as if a flogger has just landed on her soft skin.

My cock strains forward at the thought of her spread eagle, the gorgeous slash of pussy wet and exposed as velvety suede tails move in a pattern toward the pink throb of her clit. To ensure Katelyn’s arousal throughout, I would break up the flogging with licks and kisses to her succulent folds.

But tonight is too soon to introduce her to the tails, no matter how much my dick jumps at the thought.

Ignoring the restraints Katelyn dropped on the floor, I take a seat at the edge of the bed. The lamp gently lights her skin, giving it a dark golden cast. With the leather harness on, she looks absolutely edible. A metal ring frames each nipple. Dark silk hairs escape from beneath the gusset of leather between her legs. Those hairs will be gone soon, by my own hands and with plenty of pauses to suck and play with her beautiful pussy.

I inhale deeply, my tongue pushing between my lips to catch more of her flavor. She smells as delicious as she looks, her arousal warming the scent of her cunt to spread a heavy spice that makes my mouth water and my cock twice as hard as I have ever experienced.

Gently, not wanting to startle her, I curl a palm around her exposed shoulder. The shaking stops—a good sign. I keep my tone gentle but even.

“You didn’t answer, pet. Aren’t you curious?”

She doesn’t respond beyond the subconscious act of sucking her bottom lip into her mouth and screwing her eyes more tightly shut.

I can’t stop the chuckle that escapes. I’m sure she would disagree, but her reaction is adorable. It’s like holding a lattice of fingers over her eyes during a scary movie. She wants to know when the embroidery was done, but she also wants to stay ignorant.

---