In Their Hands Read Online Julia Sykes

Categories Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
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I needed to accelerate her obedience training.

I guided her off my lap, setting her on her feet before taking her hand in mine. “Come on, little bird. Time to show you around your new home.”

She hissed in a sharp breath, and I watched as she caught her lower lip between her teeth, holding in a retort. My wife was no longer calmly composed, but she was still resisting me, tempering her responses to maintain some small sense of control.

But she had no control, not in this house. Not with me. It was time she understood that. I would imprint the lesson deep in her psyche, so she would know that I owned her, body and soul.

I led her out of the dining room, and she followed with light, graceful steps. She truly did have a dancer’s form. I’d have to ensure that she had a space to practice. I intended to spoil my pretty wife, as long as she remained compliant and submissive.

As long as she knew that she belonged to me.

Not Luca, the bastard.

I dispelled the sour thought and reminded myself that my revenge was imminent. His attachment to Nora would only make him that much more vulnerable. If he shared the glimmer of affection that she seemed to harbor for him, I would be able to wound his heart while I shattered his pride. I would break him in every way imaginable, and Nora would help me do it.

My wife would serve me well.

As we made our way through the massive house, I acted like her gracious host, showing her the two sitting rooms, games room, study, whiskey lounge, indoor pool, and sauna. The only room where she dared to take her eyes off me and glance around was the library, as though she couldn’t help herself. I didn’t bother to suppress a knowing smirk.

Her old man had told me her hobbies when I’d asked—dance, piano, and reading. I’d already searched her bedroom at her father’s house, and once I gave her free reign of the library, she’d find her own copies of her favorite books tucked onto a shelf I’d reserved just for her.

I decided to save the music room for later, when I’d show her the piano where she could play for just for me. That would have to wait.

We had many years ahead for me to enjoy her musical talents. Luca might arrive any minute now. It was past time to drop the pretense and take her to our actual destination.

I led her to the end of the long hallway and opened the door to the darkened room. I ushered her into the darkness, ensuring that she was in front of me. With one arm wrapped around her waist, I tucked her tightly against my front, trapping her while I turned on the light.

She tensed as soon as the low golden lights illuminated the ominous space. Her head whipped around, something between a wild inspection of her surroundings and an instinctive refusal to accept where she was.

I splayed my hand over her abs, feeling her muscles jump and dance as she squirmed in my restraining hold.

“Let me go.” Her demand was breathless, hitching slightly as fear flooded her senses.

I nuzzled her hair and inhaled her soft, floral scent, imprinting the memory in my brain. She was scared this first time, so deliciously frightened and powerless in my arms. My naïve young bride had no idea of the pleasure I would wring from her in this room, when I toyed with her for hours at my leisure. She would cry in pain and ecstasy, and I would savor her tears.

I surveyed the room as she trembled against me, looking at it through her eyes. The massive bed would be familiar enough to her, save for the numerous restraint points on the black metal frame. The large domed cage was obvious, too, but I doubted she’d ever seen the rest of the bondage furniture that waited for her helpless body to be strapped down for wicked torment. Would she even conceive of how I’d bend her over the spanking bench or how I’d cuff her to the St. Andrew’s Cross?

If she didn’t understand their particular function, it would be easy enough for her to interpret my intentions based on the wall of impact implements to our right. A varied selection of single tail whips, floggers, canes, and more cruel toys of my own design were hung in an artful pattern, each one waiting to lash her with a particular flavor of pain.

“Please…” She squirmed against me. “Don’t hurt me.”

“Oh, you will suffer for me, little bird. You’ll sing for me.” I’d never heard a more beautiful sound than her scream of despair and ecstasy when I’d compelled her to come in my ropes. I would force it from her again and again, a lovely song just for me.


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