“Yes, that’s it, baby,” he murmurs. His hand leaves me, and I hear the sound of a zipper coming down. I register it only dimly. I feel drunk on orgasms, worn out by the brutal intensity of it all. My heart is pounding as if I ran a race, and my bones feel like they’ve turned to jelly.

There’s no way I could possibly want more, yet when he covers me with his large body, a tiny twitch of renewed sensation makes my belly tighten. He’s naked, having already removed his clothes, and I can feel his heat, his hardness. His raw male power. Even if I weren’t restrained, I’d feel helpless and small, surrounded as I am by him, but with the rope on my ankles and wrists, that feeling is magnified. I can hardly breathe under his weight, but it doesn’t matter. Even air feels optional at the moment.

All I need is Julian.

He shifts on top of me, propping himself up on his elbows. The hard, smooth tip of his erection brushes against my inner thigh as he lowers his head to kiss me, and I tense with anticipation as I feel him beginning to press in.

I’m wet and slick from the orgasms, my body primed for his possession, yet I still feel the stretch as his thick cock forces apart my inner walls, the sensation stopping just short of pain. His tongue invades my mouth at the same time, and I can’t even moan as he begins to move, his thrusts deep and rhythmic. It’s overwhelming, the feel of him, the taste of him, the way his body completely dominates and claims mine. I can’t see, can’t move. I’m drowning, and he’s my only salvation.

I don’t know how long it takes before the pulsing tension coils in my core once more. All I know is when Julian comes, I come with him, shuddering and crying out in his embrace.

Afterwards, he removes the blindfold and the ropes and carries me to the shower. I’m so exhausted I can barely stand, so Julian washes me, taking care of me as if I were a child. When he brings me back to bed, he pulls me into his arms, and as I fall asleep, I hear him say softly, “I will give you the world, my pet. The whole fucking world—just as long as you’re mine.”

Chapter 18

Julian

I wake up the next morning to the familiar feel of Nora sprawled on top of me. As usual, she’s sleeping with her head pillowed on my chest and one of her slim legs draped across my thighs. I can feel the soft, plump weight of her breasts against my side, hear her even breathing, and my cock stiffens as recollections of last night invade my mind in graphic detail.

I don’t know why I occasionally feel this urge to torment her, to hear her beg and plead. Why the sight of her bound to my bed gives me such satisfaction. When we were driving from her parents last night, I planned to take her gently and have her go to sleep, but when I saw her standing next to that four-poster bed, my good intentions went up in smoke. Something about the way she had been looking at me sharpened the dangerous hunger inside, bringing the darkness to the surface. What I wanted to do to her only began with ropes, and if I hadn’t made myself walk out of the room after tying her up, I would’ve broken the vow I made to myself the night I hurt her.

The vow to keep violence out of our bedroom for the next few months.

Thankfully, leaving her for a bit and taking a cold shower in one of the guest rooms seemed to do the trick, taking the edge off the craving. When I came back, I was more in control, able to settle for torturing her with pleasure instead of pain.

A change in Nora’s breathing brings my attention back to her. She shifts on top of me, making a soft noise, and rubs her cheek against my chest. “You didn’t get up yet,” she murmurs sleepily, and I smile, a peculiar sense of wellbeing spreading through me at the pleased note in her voice.

“No, not yet,” I confirm, stroking her smooth, naked back. “I will in a few moments, though.”

“Do you have to?” Her words are muffled. “You make a nice pillow.”

“I’m glad I can be of use.”

At my dry tone, she moves her head, looking up at me through her long, dark lashes. “Does it bother you? That I sleep on top of you like this?”

“No.” I grin at her question. “Do you think I’d let you if it did?”

She blinks. “No. Of course you wouldn’t.” Moving off me, she sits up, pulling the blanket up around her. “We should probably get up. I wanted to go for a run before breakfast.”

I sit up too. “A run?”

“Yes. It’s safe here, isn’t it?”

“Not as safe as at the compound.” The idea of her running out there makes me uneasy, even with all the security measures and no obvious threat in sight. If anything were to happen to her . . .

“Julian, please.” Nora begins to look upset. “I’m just going to run here, in Palos Park. I won’t go far, but I can’t stay cooped up in this house for two weeks—”

“I’ll go with you.” I get up and walk over to the closet to find a pair of running shorts. “Get dressed. We should hurry. I’m guessing Rosa is already preparing breakfast.”

* * *

We start the run with an easy jog to warm up. It’s a brisk sixty degrees out, but moving keeps me from feeling the chill, even though I’m not wearing a shirt. I debate having Nora put on more layers, but she looks comfortable in her cropped leggings and a T-shirt, so I decide to let it slide.

As we exit our driveway and turn onto the street, I keep a careful eye on neighbors’ cars pulling out of their garages and people stepping out for their own morning run. Being around so many strangers makes me uneasy. My men are strategically positioned all around the community, so I know we’re safe, but I can’t help watching for signs of danger.