Page 99 of Unhinged

I walk over to the cabinet. Grab a set of cuffs and a coil of rope. My hands shake, just a little. From what? I’m not even sure.

I come back and kneel. Wrap the rope tight around his ankles, binding them to the legs of the chair. Loop it. Knot it good and hard. The chair doesn’t have armrests, so I pull his arms behind his back and cuff his wrists. Just to be safe.

He doesn’t flinch.

“Now what?” I ask.

“Hit me,” he says.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No, Acid.”

He lifts his chin. “I hit you. Hit me back. Eye for an eye. Come on, Alpha Slayer. Fucking hit me. Or are you too pussy?”

My blood spikes. I see red—again.

I rear back and slam my fist into his jaw. His head jerks, but he laughs.

“Good girl.”

My perfume floods the air before I can stop it, twisted with frustration, fire,want.

He groans low in his throat, hips shifting. “Again.”

I hit him again, harder. Right across the bridge of his nose. Something cracks, and blood drips from one nostril. My scent kicks up again before I even realize it—too much jasmine, too much heat. Too muchme.

He licks his upper lip, collecting it slowly. Fucking enjoying it.

And then I see it.

The bulge in his jeans. Hard. Pressing against the zipper like it’s trying to escape. His scent hits me, that deeper, darker black currant. It’s thick. He’s turned on. Like,reallyturned on. And it slams into me so fast I don’t even have time to brace for it.

“Like what you see, baby?” He grins, blood on his teeth.

“Fuck you,” I hiss.

“Come over here and you can.” He jerks his wrists in the cuffs. “Take what you want, Brydgett. I’m strapped to this chair. You wanna hate-fuck me? Do it. You wanna feelgood?Use me.”

“It’s not right. You’re restrained.”

He rolls his eyes. “I'm giving you fucking consent, woman. Take your fucking clothes off and get off. Fucking is like fighting.Believe me. Now, you hit me, I liked it, but you're still worked up.”

He lowers his voice.

“Shut off that pretty little mind of yours… and come ride my dick like a good little omega.”

ACID

She looks like she might run.

Eyes wild and unsure, hands twitching like she doesn’t know if she wants to touch me or stab me. Honestly, it could go either way. I don’t move. I just wait.

If she bails, fine. I’ll sit here cuffed to this chair like a dumbass until someone finds me. Probably Gears. He’ll never let me live it down. Arrow might pretend to be cool about it, but he’ll be dying inside.

But I don’t think she’s gonna run. She needs this too bad. She's wound so tight it’s a miracle she hasn’t gone off already. That’s why I said it. That’s why I’m here. Not to be a dick. Not to fuck around.