He removes the ornate centerpiece and waits for me to comply before turning from the room to retrieve his bondage toys. Toys. What a twisted use of a word. There’s nothing innocent or childlike about his taste in fantasies. Hardware is more like it.
Deliberate thuds hit the steps to the upstairs bedrooms where he must have stashed the restraints. I ease myself down against the table until I’m flat as he requested. I purposely leave on my robe and panties. If he wants them off, I’ll find out soon enough anyway.
Lying face down on the table, I’m the centerpiece to be spread out and fucked.
I hear James’ footsteps as he approaches the table. With the light as my focal point, I take a few deep breaths and prepare for what comes next.
“Harlow,” James hums as he runs his hand under my robe and up the center of my back. “I promise you will enjoy this.”
His comments make it sound like he’s played this game before, and I’m sure he has with many other women. He likes control, and this kind of sex gives him the power trip.
Walking to the side of the table, he covers my hand with his. He encircles one wrist with a Velcro cuff that’s anchored to a table leg and tightens it. “Laid out here for me. I’ve wanted to do this to you since I saw you yea—” he stutters and my eyes narrow at him, “the night at the hospital.”
I swear he was going to say years before he corrected himself. The thought leaves my mind as he secures my other wrist to the similarly anchored strap.
I close my eyes to find strength and see Sin’s face. I should open my eyes and remove him from my mind, but the thought of him calms me. If focusing on Sin helps, then so be it.
James moves behind me and trails his hands up my exposed thighs. When he finds my panties, his fingers still over them.
“These have to go. I want you open and exposed to me. Nothing standing in the way of what is mine.”
He yanks the lace top of my panties and pulls them down my legs. There’s no gentleness or care in his movements, and this gives me a clue as to what will follow. He taps an ankle and I lift my foot in response. The fabric pulls away from my ankles, my panties on the floor.
“Now, widen your legs, Harlow.” I comply with his request and wait for what follows, jumping when cold metal meets my right leg above my ankle. What the hell is he doing to me?
“James?” I ask, concerned. I can’t see what he’s wrapped around me from my vantage point, but the touch of metal is different.
“It’s a surprise,” he chuckles through the words. “A spreader bar. I’m attaching each ankle to the bar with special cuffs on the end. Then, you’re totally mine.”
“I only agreed to the restraints. The ones on my wrists,” I protest. He answers by locking a cuff around my other ankle. I’m his completely. I control two things: being able to turn my head and see in a limited way and speaking to him. Though, I wouldn’t put it past him to pull out a hidden roll of duct tape. At that thought, the word “done” is a second away from being uttered. “I will stop if you want me to, but remember our bargain.”
Son of a … Emma is my trade off with James and more than ever, I need to see her. What are my options? None. He’s got me bound to his will—literally.
A tear of frustration rolls across my cheek and falls onto the wood. Then another. When I left the hospital with him, I would have never guessed I’d be in this position. Not in a million years.
“Okay.” My agreement to his demand twists inside me, because it’s a lie. I am left with a sick feeling about him and us. James has showered me with his version of love over the last four months, but does it really matter? The clothes, the car, the place to stay, and the times he’s professed his love—all of it means nothing as I lie here and agree to something that makes my skin crawl.
James pushes my robe up over my bare bottom, bunching it at my waist. I pretend his fingers belong to a man with sun-flecked eyes and a heart that I swear saw the real me. Not just the body I inhabit, but Harlow, the person.
“You’re perfect, Harlow. Just like I knew you’d be.” He squeezes my cheeks and massages down to my sex. I try to adjust my legs, but the bar leaves me at his mercy.
James bends over me, his erection pressing into my backside. He tucks my hair behind my ear and licks the skin around it. “Feel what you do to me.” A quick flex of his hips leaves no question about how he’s feeling.
“Yes,” I mutter, playing along to make him happy.
He rises off my back and his touch is gone. The lowering of a zipper sounds out, a rustling of clothes following it. His hands grip my hips, pulling me to the edge of the table. Then, he presses against my lower back, so I’m angled perfectly for him.
Knowing he’s considered everything up to this point foreplay, I expect to feel an immediate thrust. Instead seconds go by in stillness, and my anticipation rises. The longer nothing happens, the more I fear what he’ll do, until … Smack!
I am stunned to silence until the sting his hand made flows beneath my skin.