against my back, and then he grips my shoulder and shoves me, face down, onto the foot of the mattress.
The sudden aggression makes me panic, and I cry out into the quilt. I jerk my head up. His big palm pins my shoulders down, splayed across my back, his other palm pressing my cheek into the bed.
Awareness of his intentions rips through me. Expecting him to take me from behind right there the way he’s so often threatened to do, I try to push my shoulders up, but he pins me in place with both hands. His hips crush mine against the foot of the mattress, leaving me nowhere to go.
“Stay still.”
“You can’t do this!” My voice sounds breathless and high through the pounding of my heart in my ears. I twist and buck.
“Stay still, or I’ll do this out there where everyone can watch.”
I freeze, my stomach turning over.
As humiliating and degrading as what’s coming is apt to be, at least we’re alone. No one else has to see me bared for his use and destroyed by this man a piece at a time. If he did this in public, every man who sees would know what he is, but I’m not going to kid myself. None of them would care. Indeed, they’d probably enjoy the show.
So why does the thought of him taking me right now, exactly like this, make my sex clench with need?
I close my eyes, breaths sawing in and out, and remain still, just as he said.
Spider’s chest presses against my back as he bends over, the heat of him making me dizzy.
“Good girl,” he growls in my ear.
Keeping one hand pressing down on my head, he slides the other from the middle of my back down to my backside. His palm roams over each cheek, warming the skin and making my nerves tingle.
Then his palm slides down the back of my leg. He curls his hand around my thigh, the roughness of his palm on my skin making my breath hitch.
He pushes my leg to the left, then the other to the right. Spreading them wide and positioning me the way he wants.
Open and exposed, my sex aches to the point of pain, even while my pulse flutters like a butterfly trapped in a glass jar.
The hardness of his manhood jabs at my butt cheeks; I can feel every inch of it through his pants. I swallow.
Lord, I don’t know why I’m so afraid. It’s not as if he hasn’t taken me before. But he’s never done it like this. The position I’m in, bent over with my naked backside in the air, legs spread with no way to fight him, makes me feel far more vulnerable and helpless than when he took me the night of Diesel’s party.
Besides, how many times has he threatened to take me up the… up there?
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying desperately to slow the wild hammer of my heart. “Spider, please—”
He straightens, and his palm swats my ass, a single stinging slap that cuts me short and makes me cry out. The bite of pain makes my eyes water and sends a shockwave of shame through me that’s indescribable.
There’s so much dominance, so much ownership in that slap that it leaves me reeling. Anger and arousal create a toxic mixture in my veins.
Spider’s footsteps scuff across the carpet. I jerk my head around, trying to see him over my shoulder, but he’s out of range.
A second later, I hear the loud sound of tearing cloth.
What the Devil?
Two more sharp tearing sounds.
Before I can demand to know what he’s doing, his hips press against me again, holding me in place. A final sharp ripping noise, then he grabs my wrist and yanks me to a stand.
I look to my left, and my eyes go huge. He’s tying my wrist to the bedpost with a strip of white cloth from my halter top. I try to pull away, but he ties the knot tight, and my wrist is locked in place.
“The meeting will probably be about a half hour,” he says gruffly, tying my other wrist to the opposite post. “Same as before, it’ll give you time to think about what you’ve done, and what’s going to happen to you when I get back.”
“Spider, you can’t!” I shout.
He ignores me and bends down, jerking my feet wider apart and tying a third strip of cloth around my ankle, securing it to the leg of the bed.
Helplessness and rage burn