Author: Tiffany Reisz

“It’s adrenaline,” Kingsley said as he opened a drawer and pulled something out, something that sounded like metal. She gasped as he took her wrists again and yanked them behind her back. “What you’re feeling right now—it isn’t fear. You aren’t afraid of me. You’ve simply never been this excited before.”

“God, you’re arrogant,” Charlotte growled as Kingsley slapped cold metal handcuffs on to each of her wrists.

“I’m not arrogant. I’m French.” Kingsley forced her legs apart again as Charlotte tried to relax into the handcuffs. The weighty cold metal dug into her skin. She felt helpless, and hopeless. One word could get her out of this. All she had to do was say it and Kingsley would let her go. But she couldn’t say it. Even scared and humiliated she couldn’t deny that she wanted him, wanted this so much it scared her more than the handcuffs and the man who had taken possession of her body. “Now, Charlie, I’m going to put my cock in you in two seconds. If you have an objection to that, I would raise it right now.”

Charlotte said nothing as hot tears of shame welled up in her eyes.

“I thought as much,” he said and shoved inside her.

He was so big it almost hurt going in. She strained against the handcuffs and pressed her face into the bed as Kingsley thrust into her with strokes both hard and slow. Reaching around her hips he found her clitoris again. With an expert touch he teased it until Charlotte cried out. As her orgasm peaked and waned, Kingsley roughly turned her onto her back and pushed her legs open again.

Kingsley yanked her dress down and bared her breasts. His mouth dropped to her neck. He rained violent kisses across her chest and shoulders so roughly she knew she’d have bruises from his mouth tomorrow. He took both breasts in his hands and held them as he penetrated her again. She opened her legs wider and took him as deep into her as she could.

Bending over her, he met her eye-to-eye. “You tilt your hips high. You like deep penetration, don’t you?” Charlotte turned her head and stared at the wall. But Kingsley grabbed her face again and forced her to look at him. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” she said. “I like it deep.”

“Then by all means.” Kingsley grabbed her knees and wrenched them up and over his shoulders. She arched back—each thrust seemed to pound at the base of her stomach.

Charlotte panted as Kingsley continued his assault on her. She hated how good it felt being taken like this, hated herself for liking the brutality so much. He manipulated her body like he owned it, touched her like her body was an open book he’d read and memorized. Turning her head, Charlotte pressed her face to her arm. As Kingsley kneaded her clitoris between his thumb and forefinger she came so hard that tears rolled out of the corners of her eyes.

Kingsley lowered her legs off his shoulders and covered her body with his. Instinctively Charlotte wrapped her legs around his waist as he continued to move in her. He bit her neck, her collarbone, kissed the hollow of her throat all while still moving in her.

“You like this,” he said.

“Yes,” she whispered as she flinched at a particularly hard thrust.

“Call me ‘sir’ when I’m inside you, Charlie.”

“Yes, sir,” she breathed, wanting to both kiss him and slap him the second her hands were free.

She kept waiting for him to be done with her. But there seemed to be no end to the pleasure he inflicted on her. He pushed and pushed until Charlotte felt her inner muscles start to tighten. Raising her hips, she took him deep into her again. She closed her eyes as another orgasm ripped through her. Finally Kingsley’s movements grew harsher and faster. His fingers dug into the back of her neck. He held her still, forcing her to meet his eyes. With one last brutal thrust he came with his eyes open and locked onto hers.

Still inside her he moved her legs flat on her bed. Her body continued to pulse around his length as his cock pulsed inside her. He dipped his head and for the first time since meeting, kissed her.

She opened her mouth to his and his tongue slipped inside. His kiss—gentle and subtle—was the opposite of the sex. She wanted him to stay in her mouth and her body all night. Kingsley pulled back and smiled down at her.

“Took you long enough to kiss me, sir,” she said, remembering his orders, remembering he was still inside her.

“You’re a fire-breather, Charlie. You can’t blame me for being wary of your mouth.”

She laughed a little but winced as he pulled out of her sore body. She lay on her back, letting her heart slow its frenetic beating as he disappeared into the bathroom. She wondered what she looked like. Kingsley hadn’t raped her but she probably looked like someone had. Her dress was torn and still bunched around her stomach. She could already tell she was covered in bruises from his hands and his mouth. Even inside she felt bruised from his merciless thrusts.

Kingsley emerged and stood by the bed. He looked immaculate in his suit. He’s been fully dressed when he’d taken her. Only his feet were bare and he had abandoned his jacket. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the handcuff key and released her. She rolled up and tried to straighten her dress.

“What?” she asked as Kingsley stared at her.

“You look beautiful.”

“I look like a rape victim.” She wiped her eyes and a smudge of eyeliner came off on her fingers.

“You look like a woman who’s been ravished and thoroughly enjoyed it.”

“You scared the shit out of me grabbing me like that.”

Kingsley sat on the bed next to her.

“You like being scared.”

Charlie didn’t answer. Kingsley took her by the chin again, this time gently. He caressed her bottom lip with his thumb. “You like being scared,” he repeated. “You don’t have to be afraid of your fear, Charlie. You’re allowed to be afraid and like it.”

“Normal people aren’t supposed to like this stuff. Normal people aren’t supposed to enjoy being thrown down, tied up and practically raped.”

“My beautiful Charlie.” Kingsley kissed her slowly. “Perhaps it’s time to admit you aren’t normal people.”

* * *

Charlotte woke early the next morning. She put on the black bathrobe and found his bedroom door ajar but no King seemed to be in residence.

After eating breakfast in his opulent kitchen, she wandered back upstairs to shower and dress. When she stepped out of the shower, she found Kingsley standing there waiting with a towel.

“You’re trying to kill me,” she said as she snatched the towel out of his hands. “Give me a little warning, please, if you’re going to shower-stalk me.”

“You must learn to keep you on your toes. Come here, Charlie. Let’s see the damage, shall we?”

Charlotte stepped out of the shower. Kingsley stood in front of her and unwrapped her towel. Even though they’d had the most intense sex of her life last night, he hadn’t actually seen her completely naked. Just standing there in front of him was embarrassing and awkward. He, of course, seemed slightly aroused and amused as always.

“How bad is it?”

“Terrible. I barely left a mark on you. We’ll have to rectify that.”

“What do you call these?”

She pointed to the bruises on her chest and shoulders.

“Just nibbles.” Kingsley bit her wet neck.

“This isn’t fair, you know.” She wrapped her arms over her bare breasts. “I haven’t gotten to see you naked yet.”

“Women tend to fall in love with me when I take my clothes off.”

“You’re a narcissist. Come on—just a peek?”

Kingsley arched an eyebrow at her. “Very well. If you insist.”

He strode from the bathroom. Grabbing her towel, Charlotte followed him into his bedroom.

She stood in the center of his room while he started to undress. Today’s look was more Edwardian than Victorian. His jacket had five buttons and she watched with eager anticipation as he brusquely undid all of them. Tossing the jacket aside, he unknotted his tie and pulled his white shirt from his trousers. She gasped when he shed the shirt and stood bare-chested in front of her.

“Oh, my God.” Charlotte covered her mouth in shock.

“You were warned.”

She reached out and tentatively touched his chest. His body was what she imagined—lean and muscled and tan. But she never imagined this.

“How?” She looked up at his eyes.

“I was in the French Foreign Legion in my early twenties. Bullet wounds.”

“You were shot?”

“Four times. Thankfully all were small-caliber and missed vital organs. Especially my favorite vital organ.”

“Thank God.” Charlotte tried to laugh but it wasn’t easy staring at the four small holes that riddled Kingsley’s stomach and chest. “Was this from a battle?”

“Two are from a skirmish. The other two are friendly fire.”

“Friendly fire?”

Kingsley grinned at her. “Not terribly friendly, really. My CO found me with his wife.”

Now Charlotte did laugh. “Then you deserved it.”

“Hardly. That poor woman was begging to be tied up and defiled. Literally—she begged me.”

“You’ve always been this bad?” she asked as she ran her hand up and down his bare chest.

“Au contraire. I’ve always been this good.”

Kingsley took her by the wrists and led her to his bed. He opened the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a length of rope.

“Have you ever been hit by a man, Charlie?” Kingsley asked as he pulled the towel off her and threw it aside.

“No. Dad yelled but he never hit.”

“And your boyfriends? Never even spanked?”

She shook her head as her heart started racing. Was he going to actually hit her?

“Your lovers have been vanilla,” Kingsley said. “That’s a tragedy. Did you even enjoy fucking them?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “They were nice. I had orgasms. It wasn’t terrible. Just—”

“Boring? Unfulfilling? Bourgeois?”

“All of that, I guess. Simon told me I was crazy to keep dumping such great guys. He said he’d take them if I didn’t want them.”

Kingsley took Charlotte’s wrists and tied them high to the bedpost. Water from her shower ran down her back and her legs all the way to her ankles. The water droplets itched and tickled but she couldn’t reach down to wipe them off.

“You would have been crazy to stay with men who didn’t understand you. Compromise is one thing. Denying your true self is another. Now…” He stood behind her. “I’m going to do something to you that is neither boring nor bourgeois. I’m going to flog you for five minutes. And if you make it through those five minutes without saying your safe word, I’ll give you an orgasm. And then I will flog you for eight minutes. And then I will give you another orgasm. And so on and so on. I’ll add three minutes to each beating. And the game only ends when you safe out.”

“What if I don’t safe out?”

“Then we’ll be here for a very long time,” he whispered into her ear. “Because there’s nothing in the world I enjoy more than beating a beautiful woman and then bringing her to climax. Now where did I put that cat?”

“Cat? You have a cat?”

“Cat of nine tails, Charlie. Now be a good girl and just stay put while I find a few things.”

Charlotte was fairly certain Kingsley knew exactly where everything was. He just wanted to leave her tied up naked and waiting, letting the anticipation scare her. She heard what sounded like a trunk opening and then she felt him standing behind her again. Something landed on the bed. It was brown leather with a six-inch handle and nine leather thongs. It didn’t look terrifying. But it didn’t look fun, either. Something else landed on the bed—a tube of lubricant. One more thud—a rather impressive-looking vibrator. She blinked as Kingsley brought his hand around and waved a stopwatch in front of her face.