Page 22 of Haunted (Blackwood Brothers #1)
I feel the cool leather against my overheated skin through the thin silk. Xavier’s weight settles partially over me as he reaches for the restraints.
The first leather cuff encircles my left wrist. Xavier tests for the proper eyelet, ensuring it is tight enough that I can’t slip free but not so tight that it cuts off circulation.
Then my right wrist is secured in the same way, ensuring that he stretches my arms wide across the bench’s surface, limiting my range of motion to nothing.
I kick frantically as he moves to my ankles, but the bench’s design works against me. My legs dangle on either side, and Xavier easily captures first one ankle, then the other, securing them to the bench’s legs.
Spread wide. Completely helpless.
“Perfect,” Xavier murmurs, his hands trailing down my restrained arms. “Absolutely fucking perfect.”
I turn my head as much as the position allows, trying to see him, but he moves behind me, where I can’t track his movements.
“I bet you taste incredible,” he says conversationally, his fingers tracing the edge of the red silk covering my ass.
His touch skims higher, following the curve of my spine.
“And after I’ve had my fill of you,” Xavier continues, “you’re going to return the favor with that smart mouth of yours.”
I struggle against the leather restraints with everything I have, muscles burning as I pull and twist. The buckles don’t give at all. My wrists are going to be raw and bloody, but I don’t care. I have to keep fighting.
“Let me go, you sick bastard!” I snarl over my shoulder, putting every ounce of venom I possess into the words.
Xavier just chuckles. “Such dirty language from such a prim and proper young lady.”
More footsteps are audible near the doorway, making my blood turn to ice.
Two more figures appear at the entrance—both wearing masks similar to Xavier’s but in different colors.
One sports a silver mask, while the other wears a black one.
They’re both tall, broad-shouldered, and radiating the same dangerous energy.
“Well, well,” the one in the silver mask says, his voice carrying an amused drawl. “Looks like Xavier caught a prize.”
“Pretty little thing, isn’t she?” the black-masked one adds with a low whistle .
My face burns with humiliation and rage because they’re talking about me like I’m some object, rather than a woman.
“Gentlemen,” Xavier addresses them. “Perfect timing.”
I renew my struggles, bucking against the restraints until my shoulders scream in protest. The leather bench creaks under my frantic movements, but the bonds hold firm.
“Please,” I gasp, hating how desperate I sound but unable to stop the word from escaping. “Don’t do this.”
Xavier’s hands settle on my hips, his touch burning through the thin red silk. “Begging already? But we’re just getting started.”
The fabric slides up my thighs as he pushes the skirt higher, exposing more of my skin to the cool air. I try to clamp my legs together, but the restraints keep me spread wide and vulnerable.
“Beautiful,” one of the other masked men murmurs.
Xavier’s palms smooth along the backs of my thighs, parting them further despite my resistance. I bite down on my lip hard enough to taste blood.
Then his mouth is on me, hot and demanding, and I gasp in shock at the sudden sensation.
Xavier's tongue moves against me, finding every sensitive spot like he's catalogued my weaknesses a thousand times before. The skill is undeniable—better than any lover I’ve ever had—and I respond in kind despite my mind’s screaming protests.
My hips buck as he works me with relentless expertise. A moan escapes before I can bite it back, and I hate myself for it.
"I love that sound," Xavier murmurs against me. "Let me hear you."
The two masked men move closer, positioning themselves directly in my line of sight. I expect them to join in and make this nightmare even worse, but instead, they just watch. Their eyes burn behind their masks as they observe Xavier’s assault on my senses.
Then something completely unexpected happens.
The man in the silver mask reaches over and slides his hand down the front of the black-masked man’s pants. His fingers wrap around his hard cock, and he starts stroking.
“Stop,” the black-masked man hisses, but his hips thrust into the silver-masked man’s grip. “I don’t want this.”
“Why not?” Silver Mask’s voice carries dark amusement. “Look how hard you are from watching her.”
I should be horrified by this display happening right in front of me. At the same time, Xavier continues his relentless feast between my legs. But instead, heat floods through me as I watch these two powerful men grapple for dominance.
The black-masked man grabs his companion’s wrist, trying to pull him away, but the silver-masked man doesn’t relent. If anything, he pumps faster, his thumb circling what must be the head.
“Fuck,” the black-masked man groans, throwing his head back and exposing the strong column of his throat beneath the mask’s edge.
The raw, masculine dominance play happening before my eyes sends a flood of arousal to my core. Watching a hunter submit to the other while Xavier’s tongue works magic between my legs creates a perfect storm of sensation.
Xavier seems completely unbothered by his companions’ display, his focus entirely on drawing every possible response from my unwilling body. His tongue flicks against me in a rhythm that has my vision blurring at the edges.
I gasp—sharp, involuntarily. He doesn’t stop.
He’s only just begun.