He jerked me back off him using my ponytail, and although it didn’t hurt, the action got my attention. Kyle leaned over, gripped my face in his hand, and squeezed my cheeks as he lifted, using both that and the hold on my ponytail to pull me to my feet.
He stared down at me, his eyes flaring with irritation, and something . . . intriguing. Perhaps he was a little excited I’d pushed. Did he like my willful disobedience? His expression said I was about to find out.
“When you’re begging later,” his voice was steady but low, “I want you to remember this moment.” He released me, only to bring his mouth crashing against mine. His kiss branded across my lips, all urgent and furious, and I submitted to it. Surrendered.
His kiss, his fucking kiss. It wasn’t playing fair.
Chapter
TWENTY-SEVEN
KYLE
I couldn’t decide if I was pleased or not with what Ruby had tried to do. On one hand, I was thrilled, as it played perfectly into my plans, but on the other, it meant going longer before sinking my dick inside her. Longer before we could try something neither one of us had done before.
When I finished kissing her, I turned to look at the cookie sheets on the table. “How much longer before they can go in the oven?”
She took a breath, went to the cookies, and tested them. Was she nervous about how I’d respond? Her tone was hushed, as if anxious. “They can go in now.”
I made sure there was no emotion in my voice or on my face. “And they take how long to bake?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
That would work. “Meet me in your bedroom in fifteen minutes, then.”
I grabbed my bag off the chair and exited down the hall, turning left into her bedroom and flipped on the light.
I froze.
When I’d moved to New York, I hadn’t taken my shitty college furniture with me, and I’d sold most of the stuff I’d bought while there so I didn’t have to deal with the headache of moving it back home. Part of me wasn’t sure how permanent my time in Chicago would be, which was why I rented my place furnished.
Ruby didn’t have that issue. Some of the stuff was new, and the bedding was different, but the bones of her apartment during law school were still here, and it was like stepping back in time. I remembered the white dresser with chipped paint and glass knobs, because one time I’d fucked her up against it. The desk was the same, too, although now she was using it as intended instead of as a place to discard worn clothes.
Jesus, even the bed. Was this the same one we’d spent countless hours in together? Or had she only kept the headboard? It sent me reeling when it shouldn’t have. What difference did it make if it was? I needed to focus on the future, not the past.
I frowned as I stared critically at it. My issue was with its placement. The bed was in the corner, making one side of it hard to get at. I dropped my bag onto the edge and dug around to find the four-piece restraint system I’d bought this afternoon.
“What the fuck are you doing in there?” she yelled from the kitchen, after I’d grabbed the foot and dragged it squealing away from the corner.
“Mind your fucking business,” I volleyed back.
Installin
g the four clip-in points wasn’t difficult, and when it was done, I shoved the bed back into place and got to work on the rest.
I finished well before the timer in the kitchen buzzed and took a seat on the end of the mattress, waiting. There was the sound of the oven opening and closing, followed by pans being set down. Then, a light switch snapped off and footsteps, muffled by her hallway carpet, approached.
Ruby stepped into her bedroom and looked around, letting her eyes adjust to the low light, before locating me. She’d had a few candles in the room already, and I’d brought more with me, just in case. The candlelight flickered and cast warm, amber light up onto the walls.
Her expression soured, and she crossed her arms over her chest, which plumped up her tits. Her tone was patronizing. “Anal by candlelight?”
I gave her only half a smile. “We’ll see. Lay down on your back in the center of the bed. Now.”
Her breath caught and her arms unfolded. It was crazy how my dominating tone could change her attitude from snarky to submissive in a heartbeat. I stood as she sauntered to the bed, her head held high but her shoulders relaxed. There didn’t seem to be a drop of apprehension in her. It was interesting how she grew more confident in direct proportion to my dominance.
She freed her hair of the ponytail as she crawled onto the bed and lay down, turning her gaze up to the ceiling and spreading her hair over the pillow like a splash of dark silk. Her nipples were already erect.
“Are you cold?” I asked.