Dangerously Bad (Dangerous #3)

“Don’t tease me, Duff.”

“What did I say about giving yourself over to me? You can’t see, can’t really move. And I may want to spend the entire evening teasing you. You may as well relax into it, since you’ve no other choice. Unless you want to call ‘red’ and end the scene?”

She groaned. “You’re so mean to me.”

“Yes, but you like it. And so do I. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a bit of a sadist.”

“As if you’d ever let me forget.”

“Damn right,” he said, chuckling. He grabbed a handful of flesh at her waist and squeezed, bringing her the pain she needed so badly. Then he pinched her there, making her yelp. “Aw, poor thing,” he teased, but he kissed the small, hurting spot just above her hip.

He kissed her there again, then once more before moving lower, kissing and biting his way down her thigh. Her sex grew wet, but when she tried to squeeze her legs together, he forced them apart with strong hands.

Gears were turning in her head, like pieces of clockwork falling into place, and she knew it was that lethal combination of him tormenting her with pleasure and glimpses of the pain she craved. He knew exactly what he was doing, as always. There was a certain relief in that, even though she wanted him to really hurt her—needed him to. She felt as if she’d been left hungry for months, and was starving for sensation now. He knew it, of course. He would handle her need the way he chose. There wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

That thought made her go loose all over, and she pulled in another long breath.

He continued his slow, lovely torture, kissing her skin, running his fingertips over her heated flesh, grazing the tops of her breasts, her inner thighs. He kissed his way down her spine, starting at the top of her neck and moving down an inch at a time, so gently she could barely stand it. Then he grabbed her and yanked her in so tight she could feel every hard muscle in his big body. She melted into him, her brain emptying out.

“Duff,” she murmured.

“You need this, yes? Yes. But you know this will go my way, love.”

He stepped away from her, keeping his palm flat on her stomach as he moved around in front of her and began those lingering, torturous kisses over her collarbone, her throat, brushing her lips with his before moving on to her shoulder. Her body was vibrating with need, desire a pulsing beat between her thighs. But it was as much the need to be taken over as it was the more animalistic desires. He was feeding one, starving the other, and it made her head spin.

It seemed to go on forever, a little pain mixed with the pleasure of sensual touch, driving her crazy. She realized she was panting, making small mewling sounds, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to beg for more. She couldn’t let herself do it. There was a certain pride in being able to take whatever it was he would do to her, and she let that pride fill her up.

“You’re doing well, my lovely,” he told her, pleasure in his voice, along with stark desire and some tension she wasn’t sure she understood. “But let’s ramp things up a bit, shall we?”

She waited for him to act—to spank her or bite her, but there was nothing but several long, quiet moments in which all she could hear was her own heartbeat against the background of soft music. Finally, she felt his breath on her skin; then he bit into her neck, a soft bite, making her lean into him, but he drew back.

“Still,” he ordered, and she struggled to obey.

He bit her neck once more, sinking his teeth into her shoulder, then the underside of her arm, but so gently—too gently—and she understood he really was going to torture her this way. The nibbling bites were followed by soft kisses and sweeps of his wet tongue. She was shaking, desire and the need to please a battle being waged in her system—one she knew she would lose one way or another.

When he gave her one good bite on the palm of her hand, she gasped. “Duff! Please . . .”

“I know you need it, princess,” he said, his voice rough. “I always know what you need. You have to leave it to me, though, you know. Do you trust me?”

“Yes. Completely.”

It was true. She’d never trusted anyone the way she did this man.

“Good.”

He began to kiss her again, down her stomach, pausing at the apex of her thighs for a long, lovely moment. When he pulled her blindfold off, she was surprised, blinking hard in the dim light. She was even more surprised to see him down on one knee in front of her, holding a small black velvet box in his outstretched hand. She couldn’t even look at the sparkling diamond gleaming against the dark velvet.

“Duff? What are you doing?”

“I’m proposing, my silly, beautiful, amazing girl.”

“But I’m . . . Jesus, Duff. You’re going to do it now? When I’m half naked and bound and out of my head?” She pulled against her chains, but they held her tight.

“I’m smarter than I look,” he said, a small grin on his face.

“This . . . this isn’t fair,” she sputtered, her heart racing. “You’re going to ask me to marry you after playing? While I’m in this state?”

“I knew this was the only way I could get you to listen. And I figured this would be the best possible form of aftercare. I’m brilliant sometimes, yes?”

“Oh my God. You’re serious.”

His grin faded, his expression somber. “I’ve never been more serious in my life than I am about you. I love you, Layla, my stubborn, wild girl. I love you so hard it makes me shake in my boots sometimes. That’s how I know this is real. That’s why I have to ask you to be my wife, to spend our lives together. Because I need you to be here with me. Wherever ‘here’ is, I need you at my side.”

“But I’m already collared to you,” she said, not even sure why she was protesting anymore.

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