Down on Her Knees by Christine Bell

Author:Christine Bell [Bell, Christine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BDSM, erotic, contemporary romance, chloe cole, cop, wedding, dare me
Publisher: Entangled Publishing, LLC
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Her palms went slick and the hair on her arms rose. The blackness was unnerving as hell and she reached a hand up instinctively to yank the scrap of cloth away, but his was there to greet it. He closed his fingers around her wrist and pulled it away.

“Leave it.”

His firm command stilled her struggles momentarily, but she couldn’t leave it. He could do anything to her like this. She was completely vulnerable, like a fish belly-up and ready to be gutted.

Right as she was about to let full-blown panic take hold, the fingers in her hair tightened, tugging once. Then again. Not hard enough to hurt. Just hard enough to feel. For some reason, it was enough. The contact centered her, gave her a focal point to cling to on this spinning, wild ride.

“Leave it,” he said again.

She focused on the sensation of his strong fingers covering hers. The grip of his hand in her hair. The sound of the breath sawing in and out of his lungs, and she knew with utmost certainty that he was every bit as vulnerable as she was right now. Two words and she could make this whole scenario come crashing down. Two words and it would be over.

Two words she had not a single intention of uttering.

She wriggled from his grasp and let her hand fall to her side, hoping the euphoria she was feeling didn’t make her voice tremble. “Fine then, Mr. Welter. You win. If you get off on bedding an unwilling woman who has no interest in you whatsoever, then go ahead.” Mary Mack had apparently picked up a British accent somewhere along the way, but she went with it. “I won’t stop you.”

Every nerve in her body was at full attention, waiting for his next move. He released her hair and a long moment passed in silence. What the hell was he doing? She tipped her head, straining to hear any sign of movement, but there was nothing. No sound, no new smell, though her senses seemed enhanced by her lack of vision. It was as though she was entirely alone.

After a moment, she worked up the nerve to call him by name, but there was no response.

Was this her punishment for asking questions? He’d left her here? Alone? Surely not…

Another thirty seconds passed with nothing but the sound of her own erratic breathing to remind her that she wasn’t deaf as well as blind. Then, out of nowhere, it all changed. The heady scent of his musky cologne filled her nostrils, the ambient heat of his body radiated against her skin, sending goose bumps up her arms.

He was close.

Close enough to touch, and she balled her fists to resist the urge to reach for him. She was his prisoner, not his date. She didn’t allow herself to remember how much she’d enjoyed that as well.

A single finger traced her lips, and she instinctively opened her mouth to take it in, to taste it, but it was gone in the next instant.

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