Page 37 of Forced Alpha Bride

When we ended up nose to nose, I didn’t think. I just leaned towards him, and… it happened.

Tears begin to trickle down my cheeks again, and they are far more real than any others I’ve shed today. This time, the sorrow is coming from a much deeper place inside me. Maybe even my soul.

I know about your problem, Winnie.

I hear Iris’s voice in my mind, and I want to curse her name, but I can’t. There’s something ugly hidden underneath all my anger, and I know I have to face it.

I want this man more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life.

My cheeks burn with shame while the heat of an entirely different kind blooms underneath it. I can still feel the throbbing desire between my legs, the ache deep inside me, my hard nipples rubbing against the soft fabric of the dress.

Closing my eyes, I remember the heat of his mouth, the soft, wet press of his lips against mine. The way his hard hands folded around my waist, crushing me against his chest. A sharp, intense ache runs through me, and I let out a small, soft cry.

So why did you run, then?

Because I don’t want to want him!

“Winnie?”

Damon’s voice shocks me so hard, I jump, hurting my arm again as I hit the length of the cord. He’s standing in the shadows of the hallway, and I can’t see his expression, just a pale impression of his face.

“What?” I snap.

“I’m sorry, okay. I really am. But I have to do this.”

“What?” I repeat louder, with panic at the edge of my voice.

“I can’t risk you running away,” he says apologetically, and I hear the faint clink of metal.

What the fuck?

Damon snaps the light on, and I’m stunned for a moment. When my eyes clear, I look up into his big, soulful eyes. He looks so sad, I almost feel sorry for him.

“Just hold still, okay? I don’t want to have to hold you down.”

Maybe that’s what I want, though…

“What are you talking about?” I say instead.

He takes a step closer, and that’s when I notice the cuffs in his hands. They aren’t handcuffs, more like bracelets with a very long chain looped through them.

“Damon, what are you doing?” I demand, struggling against my tether.

“These will be a lot more comfortable for you,” he says soothingly. “I can adjust them to fit your wrists, and the long chain means you’ll have more movement. It’ll be easier for me to tether you and unhook as well.”

I stare at him in disbelief, feeling like reality just developed a serious rip and I’ve fallen straight through it.

Is he seriously explaining the merits of manacles to me? Well, maybe it is better than an electrical cord. It’s not like I have experience with this.

As that thought flashes through my mind, the next one is far more disturbing.

Does he?

“Wait, Damon, wait,” I implore as he approaches. “Seriously, let’s talk about this.”

“We have,” he says gently, as if he’s talking to a frightened horse. “These will be much nicer for you, I promise.”

“Damon.” I lean on the cord to pull away from him. “Don’t.”