to thank her for the drinks and the chat. “What?” I ask, noticing her smirk at the clamps poking at my shirt.
“You might want another one of these before those things come off,” she warns. She tips the bottle over the shot glass, waiting for the go ahead to pour.
Unease trickles into my veins, but before I can answer, Spider grabs the bottle from her. “Not a chance. I don’t want anything dulling the sensations for you. I want you to feel everything that I do to you,” he adds in my ear.
Then, ignoring the glass, he takes a pull on the bottle.
“Hey! Give me that!” Tequila swipes it from him and thumps it down on the bar. “Unless you’re going to take the whole bottle, I don’t want… uh! Men,” she snarls as Spider grins and steers me off across the bar toward his room.
I hear Mort laughing behind us.
On the way down the hall, a few of the men pass us, grinning at the leash that travels from Spider’s fist to the front of the collar on my neck. My cheeks heat, shame squirming in my belly. This is never going to end, is it?
“Off to play, Spidy?” one of the guys asks.
“Always.”
Once in his room, Spider locks the door and tugs me over to his bed by the leash.
“Can you take this thing off me now?” I grumble, pulling on the chain.
“Nope.” He scoops me easily into his arms and drops me unceremoniously onto his bed so that my head is half on the pillows. “I want you wearing it while I fuck you.”
Of course he does.
Mashing my lips together, I lie there wishing I could hit him, hatred for him boiling. If I lash out at him, he’d only find some way to make me pay for it.
Spider climbs on the bed, knee-walks between my legs, and seizes my knees, jerking me toward him. There’s no emotion in his expression save the fierce lust in his gaze as he slips the end of the leash over the bed knob to my right. The chain isn’t quite taut, but it tugs lightly on the collar if I move too much, a constant reminder that it’s there, trapping me to the bed and never letting me forget what I am to him.
That I’m his plaything. His slave.
He starts unbuttoning my halter top. “How’d you like the show, Wildcat?”
His growled voice, throaty with drink, wraps around me, and I love the inborn danger in it. The faint whiff of Jack Daniels on his breath makes my head swim alluringly.
Demon rum indeed.
“Why didn’t you join in?” I ask, unable to help the bite of bitterness in my voice. No way am I telling him how hot or how wet that scene made me.
Twitching aside the opening of my shirt, his eyes twinkle. When he answers, his gaze fixates on my breasts, on my painfully aching, clamped nipples.
“Because. I was saving all my come for you.” He traces the spider’s web scars on my chest with his finger, leaving behind heated trails that burn my blood. “Greedy little thief that you are.”
His words twist in my heart like daggers. Well, what did I expect him to say? That I was his one and only? Did I expect him to make some sort of declaration of loyalty or undying love to me? To tell me that he couldn’t imagine touching another woman who wasn’t me?
Suddenly unable to bring myself to look into his unfeeling eyes, my heart silently crushing, I lock my gaze on the ceiling. His head blocks the light fixture and the camera hidden in it from view, but I know it’s there, and I turn my face away, waiting.
At least he’s going to take those cursed clamps off now.
“Eyes on me,” he orders gruffly. “Hands on the headboard. Don’t let go until I tell you.”
I sigh, fixing my gaze on his hard face and reaching up, grabbing the top of the barred headboard. The position lifts my breasts and points my nipples upward, giving him better access.
Spider grasps the clamp on my right nipple, but he doesn’t open it. I don’t like the gleam in his eyes. Tequila’s warning that I might like another shot rings in my ears.
Lord, this is going to hurt isn’t it?
“Take a deep breath.”
I tense, but before I can inhale, he opens the clamp’s teeth.
Shocking, intense pain shoots through my nipple and I cry out, twitching on the bed.