She glanced at the bed. Hesitated.
“Now,” he said, his voice booming in the cavernous space.
She winced and hurried over the bed, scrambling into position. The mattress was firm beneath her knees, and the dark red sheets were the only adornment. No fluffy pillows, no comforter. This was not a place for sleeping.
Grant walked over in no hurry, his boots thudding against the tiled floor like the slow, steady beat of a bass drum. “Lift your arms above your head, Charlotte.”
This time she knew not to hesitate. He disappeared from her line of sight as she raised her arms. The sound of metal grinding against metal skittered over her skin, raising her anxiety. She looked up and saw the iron ring moving downward. Oh, shit. She peeked over her shoulder to find Grant leaning against one of the supporting beams, his finger on a switch.
“Eyes forward.”
She dragged her gaze back to the opposite wall and tried to steady her breathing. In. Out. In…The cranking noise stopped, and music with a heavy beat but no words replaced it. Grant walked over and stood against the edge of the bed, filling the space in front of her. He ran his hands along her lifted arms, leaving a trail of goose bumps in his wake, then circled soft rope around both her wrists. “Tonight I was planning to take my time and bind you in a beautiful pattern, was going to be gentle with you since you’re new to this.”
He threaded the other end of the ropes through holes in the contraption above her head and pulled, leaving hardly any slack. She rubbed her lips together, nervous words crawling up her throat. “I’m sorry, I—”
“I don’t remember giving you permission to speak,” he said, knotting the rope and giving her a quelling look.
She choked down her protest.
“It’s too late for apologies, freckles.” He checked the ropes and her wrists. “You’re my sub. When you put yourself down, you’re insulting me and my tastes.” He grabbed her chin and brought his face close to hers. “And that pisses me the fuck off, you understand?”
She winced, his words as effective as that smack to her cheek earlier.
“Yes, sir,” she said, her voice barely loud enough to be heard over the music.
He released her chin and made a frustrated noise. “You think your tits are too small?”
She looked down to the corner of the bed, shame burning through her. Wasn’t this supposed to be fun? If he was going to enumerate her many flaws, she’d never be able to handle it. The word Texas hovered at the back of her throat.
“You know what I see when I look at them?” He cradled her left breast, then drew her nipple between his thumb and forefinger until it plumped. “I see pretty pink nipples that darken and harden at the slightest touch. I see breasts that are so beautifully sensitive that you have the rare talent to come from that stimulation alone.”
Something cold and metallic touched her nipple. She glanced down right as Grant tightened the tiny clamp around her flesh. She gasped, the quick snap of pain and pleasure catching her off guard.
He gave the other breast the same treatment, and then tugged on the light chain connecting the two clamps. Her head tipped back, the dual sensations shooting straight downward as if the clamps were connected to her clit instead of her breasts. “Shit.”
He gave her a dark smile as he cupped her sex and slid a finger in with ease. “Mmm, see what I mean? So hot and slick already. Responsiveness trumps cup size any day.”
She whimpered, her body clenching around him, needing more. The safe word died on her lips.
He pulled his hand away and brought it to his mouth, sucking her arousal from his finger. “Responsive and sweet.”
The iron rattled above her as she shifted her weight, her need for his touch making her restless.
He flicked her clamped nipple, causing her to yelp. “Calm down, Charlotte. Patience is a virtue.”
She clenched her jaw at the sting and had to bite back a sharp retort.
He gave a low chuckle. “Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll make you wait even longer. This is not about what you want. This is about taking the punishment that you’ve earned, about hearing what I’m trying to get through that hard head of yours.”
Her wrists wriggled in the bindings. Even with him goading her, her body was getting hotter, wetter. She didn’t understand the response. She dropped her focus to the sheets.
“Better,” he said, approval coloring his tone. “Now spread your knees.”
She did as she was told and fought hard to keep her eyes down and not peek at what he was doing. But curiosity won.
Grant turned to the large armoire that flanked the wall behind him and opened the doors. Charli had to hold back her gasp as the contents came into view. Shelves of items in boxes filled the interior, but the instruments hanging on the inside of the cabinet doors were what drew her attention. A coiled whip, lengths of rope, a riding crop, what looked to be a cane of some sort, and any number of other things she couldn’t name.
Fear rippled over her. Fear and something else…