Page 152 of Wicked Little Secret

“Miss Oliver, how have you been resting?” I ask upon returning.

I find her lying despondently on the bed, curled up with her gaze on the limestone wall to her right. I’d assume she were asleep if not for the blink of her eye that I catch.

She doesn’t bother giving me an answer.

“We can do things the hard way or the easy way. But either way, you’ll be punished. You simply decide the extent. Will you behave yourself?”

No response.

I set down the satchel I’ve brought with me on the desk. “Very well. Tonight is as good as any to continue our play.”

Nyssa’s stare is rapt and unblinking, watching everymove of mine almost as if we’re adversaries. I unsnap the leather flap on the front and begin pulling out the items I’ve brought with me. The first I set down is the familiar bottle of silicone-based lube.

Then the blindfold.

And then the paddle.

Other items join the first few, like the vibrator she’s become acquainted with, three different sized butt plugs, a pair of nipple clamps, and lastly, a ball gag.

All items I may or may not use tonight, depending on the moment and where it takes us.

“On your belly, Miss Oliver. You know what to do.”

Nyssa disobeys me. She remains as she is, glaring harshly at me like we’re enemies.

She’s angry and frustrated. Perhaps still convinced I’m Valentine.

Fair enough.

I haven’t done my due diligence to convince her. Yet as I strangled Veronica before her eyes, she hardly uttered a peep. Not a single protest as I came to her rescue and eliminated another person posing a threat to her.

Pretend as she might that I’m an abhorrent monster, some part of her can’t help being drawn to me. Deep down, she knows the truth. She feels the same about me as I do her.

On some level, Nyssawantsto be mine.

She wouldn’t have worked for my approval if she didn’t. At the first sign of my intense infatuation, she would’ve run scared and never looked back.

But she’s stayed.

She’s sought me out herself.

This is just another obstacle of our relationship. A bumpin the road we’ll get through together, coming out the other side triumphant and closer than ever.

I’m sure of this as I approach the bed with measured footsteps and an unyielding gaze. Though she’s the one chained to the bed, I’m the one caught in her trance. I’m just as much of a prisoner as she is, unable to do the right thing and let go of her.

I couldn’t walk away any sooner than I could stop breathing and survive.

Both are intrinsically one and the same.

I kneel before Nyssa and caress her cheek, bringing her face close to mine. Our lips brush in a slow tease, my tongue slipping out to trace a quick outline of her mouth. My fingers travel to her curls, and I bask in how we’re so close and the room’s so quiet.

I can hear her breathing. The soft, stilted little breaths she’s drawing in then pushing out.

There’s an intimacy about it. Something erotic about listening to the sound of her breathing, a second away from making her mine all over again.

But she denies me.

As I go to swipe at her mouth a second time with my tongue, she turns her head away.