“I think we can find a way,” he comments, stepping in front of me.
I fall away, not allowing him to take total control. He follows me into my room, slamming the door closed. I smirk but give him a scrutinizing look, disgusted at the amount of clothing he has on. Without a second thought, his shirt is gone, his belt buckle undone, and his trousers pooling at his feet.
As he slips his shoes off and kicks his pants aside, I realize one thing – this is all too fucking easy apparently.
With lightning speed, and with animalistic agility, Zane is in front of me once more, our bodies thrust so firmly together I only know to allow his lips to crash upon mine. As arms engulf me, keeping me flush against him, my hands come up to his head, helping to deepen the kiss.
This is all too criminal. The way he caresses my body as his lips string a story upon mine should never be allowed. It should be a felony that I should fall back into my old ways when he’s even a few feet away, but to allow him to this point... it’s illegal.
Before, any man I kissed, I could toss my feelings aside, keep objectivity alive, and survive the thrill of the kill. But with Zane, I become unbidden as if a bittersweet poison courses my veins and I crave it. I want red-hot fury to pulsate through my body and keep reminding me that this is the fate at its absolute strongest.
As I feel myself falling, my hands rise up across his chest until I have the perfect opportunity to push him away. With a look of agitation, Zane watches as my left hand comes up to his lips and he questions my motives.
“I’m not allowing you to have the power,” I tell him; I can feel my eyes light up as a rush of seduction enamours me. I steal another kiss, my lips lingering on his, dragging themselves as I pull away. “Stand here,” I tell him, forcing him to stand in the middle of the room.
I drop away from his body, the heat freezing instantaneously. I go over to my closet, open the door, and pull a scarf out. I don’t want too much time to pass, so I advance on Zane, bite my lip with anticipation as I fold the scarf in half, and lift my arms up behind him. I pull the scarf down, covering Zane’s eyes; he jumps immediately and raises his hands and sniggers.
“I knew you wanted power, but I didn’t realize that would render me vulnerable,” he muses, twisting his head as if to look at me blindly.
“This is just phase one,” I tease, tying the last knot. My hands fall onto his shoulders, I go on my tiptoes and rest my lips right beside his ear before whispering to him. “There’s one more thing,” I continue to command him. “But I want this all gone before I get what I want,” I say, tugging on his boxers. Zane listens and I watch as he slips them down his toned, tanned body and tosses them across the room. “Good, now get down on your knees and put your hands behind your back.”
“Amelia,” Zane breathes, an ounce of trepidation washes into his tone.
I use a little force on his shoulders, and kiss the back of his neck as he begins to lower himself slowly. “Do as I say and it’ll all be over and you can get some form of revenge.”
As he continues to drop to his knees, I rush to my bed and pull the belt from my robe. The silk band falls between my fingers and I walk back to Zane, crouching behind him. His hands sit behind him, keenness now shakes from him and as I loop the silk tie around his wrists, dancing and weaving the material to entrap him.
“Right,” I whisper, standing up to move in front of him. “Can you see?” I ask, and he shakes his head. “Good, can you move?” Again, he shakes his head. “Even better.”
“Amelia,” he pants in dry anticipation as he struggles with his bindings a little.
I say nothing, just back out of the room, grabbing his shirt as I do so and leave him bound and helpless. I might go back to him before the hour’s up, but with the way I’m feeling, I’ll let him sweat a little.
“Amelia!” he cries out, obviously feeling my neglect.