Page 21 of Wretched Love

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I was staring at the wall, not at him. But I heard a drawer opening, rifling sounds. Then the low thump of his boots against the carpet. He was still fully clothed, and I was bent over his bed. Completely naked. In one of the most vulnerable positions you could be in, even if you were with someone you were used to. Someone who wasn’t a complete stranger.

Darkness entered the corner of my eye as Swiss bent over the bed. I heard a metallic click. My brain was screaming at me to look right, to see what he was doing, what I was in for. Instead, I continued staring at the wall.

His breath was hot on my neck when he made it back to me. My knees shook. “Do you trust me?” he asked me, his voice velvet against my skin.

Did I trust him? I didn’t even know him. Didn’t even know his last name. Or his first, for that matter. Did he even know mine?

“Yes,” I answered reflexively, not thinking, only feeling.

His hands found my breasts, tweaking each nipple to the point of pain.

I let out a moan as my body responded to the pleasure of that pain.

“Want you to be louder,” Swiss murmured, tweaking my nipple harder. “Want you to scream for me before the night is out.”

I let out a louder moan in response. Not by his command, but because I couldn’t not. Something inside of me was opening, waking up. Something I didn’t recognize, but something that felt natural.

“You talked about being fucked in nothing but missionary,” Swiss said, hands going to my hips so he could lift me and place me on the bed.

He lifted me up like I weighed nothing.

My knees found the mattress on instinct. I was on all fours, facing the headboard. Now I saw what Swiss had been doing. He had been attaching leather restraints to the hooks.

My stomach swirled, and my heartbeat quickened.

“I really do want to see your face when you come for the first time,” Swiss said, boots thumping once more as he walked around the bed. He leaned over to grasp my arm, his other hand going to my hip to take my weight as he fastened the first of the restraints on.

When the leather fastened around my wrist, my body quivered, my pussy pulsating.

In short, it turned me on.

Way on.

“But I want to give you something else,” he continued. “Want you to feel me in your fuckin’ throat too.”

Holy. Fucking. Crap.

Another pulse. My entire body was taut as he finished restraining me, my palms going flat on the headboard to keep me steady. The restraints themselves were attached to chains that clinked every time I moved even slightly, giving me some slack to work with so I could move without being totally restricted. But I was still chained to the bed, the leather secure and not something I could get out of. Only Swiss could unlock them.

It should’ve, at this point, scared the ever-loving crap out of me that I was restrained and naked with a stranger, the music so loud out in the common room that no one would be able to hear me scream for help if need be.

But that only added to the furious tempo of my arousal. I could scream as loud as I wanted, and only Swiss would hear me.

I had no idea what he planned to do with me. Because he hadn’t said I couldn’t move, my head went over my shoulder, tossing my hair as I did. Swiss was standing beside the bed, still fully clothed, staring at me.

No, it looked like he was devouring me with his gaze.

Again, my body pulsated with need from just a look.

He rubbed his hand over his mouth. “Fuck, this image, you chained to my bed like this, might just be the best thing I’ve seen in this life,” he uttered.

My stomach did a backflip.

His eyes met mine. “You’re gonna sit on my face now, baby,” he said, rougher than before.

I blinked.

My skin was hot.


Tags: Anne Malcom Romance