In His Bed (18+)

Chapter 29

"Ready for more?"

"Definitely."

I felt his fingertips trail along the soft skin of my cheek. "I want you to stand."

"Okay."

Gently, he pulled me up and held me as I got steady on my feet.

"Good. Now, come with me."

His hands went to my elbows, guiding me before him as we walked.

"Where are we going?"

"My bedroom."

Excitement sparked within me. "Oh?"

His voice came from behind me. "We're not staying long."

Disappointment and confusion had me frowning. "Oh?"

"I just need to grab something."

"And you had to take me along?"

"Cardinal rule of bondage, Hailey: If you have someone tied up, never leave them alone."

Teasing, I asked, "Do you really think I could have hurt myself in the thirty seconds you would have been away?"

"Accidents happen." I heard a drawer open, then rummaging noises.

"I think you just wanted to lead me around like a dog."

The drawer closed and I felt Jason before me.

His breath was warm against my cheek. "Hailey, if I wanted to treat you like a dog, I would have made you a leash."

An image of me, leashed and collared, begging at Jason's feet, flashed in my mind.

"I... I actually think I'd like that."

His breath came out in gusts as he laughed softly. "Baby, you're into some kinky shit."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah – I love it." His words cut off as he kissed me, hands pulling me into his embrace.

With a quick nip at my lower lip, he released me, taking hold of my elbow, and guiding me back toward the living room.

Except, instead of stopping at the fireplace, Jason kept us walking until I stood on the hardwood floor of the kitchen.

"I want you to kneel on the table."

There's no way I heard that right.

"Excuse me?"

His lips caressed my earlobe. "I want to play with you, and it'll be easier if you're not on the floor.

Stunned, I could only ask. "Play with me?"

"Yup. Here, let me help you up."

The process of getting me onto Jason Coleman's kitchen table was more than a little awkward, considering my hands were tied behind my back.

"How's that?"

The unyielding pressure of the wooden tabletop against my poor, abused knees had me wincing.

"Do you need a cushion?"

"Please."

He returned moments later with what felt like the throw blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch. Instructing me to lift first one knee, then the other, Jason slid the folded microfiber fleece beneath me, giving me a barrier between my legs and the hard surface of the table.

"Better?"

I nodded, "Much."

His hands glided up my calves. "Good."