Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
He pushes on the far wall and a door opens that I didn’t even realize was there. Flipping on a light, we walk down a set of stairs and into an open room.
A coldness runs over me, making me shiver at what I see. It’s a basement. I’ve been in one before. David had one at his house. He tied me up and left me there one night. But that was the first night that Sin fucked me. Made me his.
Letting go of my hand, he commands, “Strip down.” Then he throws the bag on a countertop over in the corner.
Slowly, I pull the T-shirt I was wearing—it’s his—up and over my head. Then push the shorts down my legs, along with my underwear. I feel shy all of a sudden. Embarrassed as my wide eyes look over the ropes, chains, and belts hanging on the far wall. Each one different than the other. There are various colors and sizes.
He turns around and I see my white Dior heels in his hand that were in my bag. Coming up to me, he kneels. “Place your hands on my back to steady yourself.”
I do as he says and lift my right foot off the cold concrete floor. He slides it on, followed by the other. He stands to his full height, and I smile nervously up at him. “My Prince Charming.”
His face is blank, his eyes void of any emotion. It makes my pulse race. He grabs my hand once again and pulls me to the center of the room.
There’s a black leather-wrapped post that stands in the middle. One vertical post with a horizonal one that sits right at my hips with my six-inch heels on.
I run my fingers along the soft leather, watching him out of the corner of my eye walk over to the far wall. He grabs some chains, a couple of belts, and then turns, opening a drawer. I can’t see what he gets out of it.
When he turns to walk back to me, my eyes snap to stare at the silver ring that hangs from the top of the vertical post that is right in front of me. My breathing picks up.
He crouches down again, behind me this time. The chain wraps around my right ankle, the coldness of it making me shiver. He picks up a short double-ended metal hook. One is connected to the floor, the free end is latched through two links that are in the chain around my ankle, securing it in place.
Standing, he goes to my other ankle. He grabs it, and pulls it farther apart, almost knocking me off my heels. I grab the post in order to keep myself from falling over as he does the same thing to the left ankle.
Standing behind me, he leans into me, and I feel his jeans rub against my ass and thighs. “Look up,” he commands.
Swallowing, I look up at the black-painted ceiling. He slides something around my throat. I feel the leather wrap around and hear him fasten it at the nape of my neck.
I try to lower my head but can’t. My hands shoot to whatever it is he put around my neck, my heart hammering in my chest. “Sin—”
“It’s a posture collar,” he interrupts me before I can ask what it is.
My hands begin to sweat, and I try to shift on my heels, but they’re tied too far apart, secured too tightly. My breathing accelerates and my pussy clenches. He’s going to make me pay. I hate that I’m excited. That I want him to mark me. As if the brand on my inner thigh will fade away.
He walks around in front of me, and I look at him over the vertical post. My heels putting my chin level with the top. He’s still got four, maybe five inches over me. Pulling another one of those double-sided metal hooks out of his pocket, I lower my eyes to watch him connect one side to the ring that hangs from the top of the post. Then he grabs my neck, pushing my head back painfully and I hear it click again.
Letting go of me, I try to pull away, but he secured the collar to the post. “Easton?” My voice shakes. My hands come up and grab at the metal hook. I try to unhook it, but he slaps my hands away.
He takes a longer chain and holds my hands in one hand while the other lays the chain across my wrists, then he brings both ends back over the center and pulls on them, securing my wrists together with one chain. He yanks on it, fastening it down to the horizontal bar that runs across my hips but on the inside of it. I’m immobile. Totally at his mercy. My pussy is wet, but my body is shaking, and I want to cry happy tears that he didn’t let me leave. That he’s going to fight for me. Force me to stay.