My nipples still burned with what he’d done to them. Fuck. My heart was throbbing fast as could be. My breathing was hoarse in my ears. Though he’d stopped me talking, he’d left me freedom to do or not do, to think, or not think, in every other way. And I was still turned on beyond belief. Freedom, a novel concept where he was concerned. I tested the binding on my wrists and was tempted to get loose. It would mean the destruction of the bra but...oh my, the idea undid me. I pulled and twisted, wrenched, and something snapped behind my back. Grinning devilishly, I reached blindly and grabbed his hair. “Ah-huh.” His matter-of-fact tone was unnerving, and more than a little diabolical, but I hung on. Until...he took hold of my wrists again, bit my ass even harder. I squeaked out a bitten-off stream of noes that weren’t quite the finished word and sounded like panicked grunts – which they were.
