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Page 163 of Cruel Abandon (Fallen Royals 5)

And anyway, this is my idea.

“Just say the word,” he reminds me. “They’re quick release, so… you’ll be out in an instant.”

I exhale and pull at one of my wrists. The bindings—ties, actually—hold firm, but it doesn’t hurt. We’ve been working up to this.

He yanks my pants off.

I lift my hips to help him, and he places a small kiss on the inside of my knee.

I shiver.

“You trust me?” he asks.

I nod once, then clear my throat. “Yes.”

He winks and reaches over the side of the bed, shuffling things around in the drawer. When he straightens, he has…

“Oh god,” I groan, turning my head into my arm. “How long have you had that?”

He smirks, running his finger up and down my vibrator. The memory of him lifting it from my box of plants flashes in my mind. I was mortified then, but now I can’t lie—I’m intrigued. I haven’t resorted to using it in a long, long time. I sort of forgot about it, actually.

We’ve lived in the same apartment that my mom moved me into, although it’s ours now. A home for both of us. I’m about to graduate Ashburn College with my double major, and Liam works near the harbor at a trauma counseling center—just like he wanted.

“What are you going to do?” I ask.

A pointless question, really.

He kneels between my legs and clicks the thing on. It jerks in his hand, vibrating noisily. “Just wanted to try something new,” he murmurs. “And I’ve got to admit, the idea of you doing this to yourself in an empty room is seriously hot.”

“Liam—”

He touches it to my clit, and I arch off the bed. There’s too much sensation, but I can’t push him off. I can’t even seem to twist away from him.

I struggle against the ties for a moment, then let out a sharp exhale.

This isn’t about any sort of fear I’ve been harboring—not because of Liam’s dad, or Jim Masters, or the time Liam strung me up and threatened me. This is about rewriting my pain into pleasure.

He slides his finger inside me, and I writhe.

“This is too much?” he asks me.

I gulp in air, trying to get control of my spiraling emotions. I’m a live wire.

“No,” I finally manage. “But I need you.”

He picks up the vibrator, dragging it up my abdomen, over my stomach. He makes a looping trail across my body, pausing on my nipple before going back down. He positions himself at my entrance and slowly pushes into me.

“Did you take it this morning?” he asks me.

Now’s your chance to change your mind, is what he doesn’t say.

“I threw away the packet,” I reply.

My birth control.

The idea of getting pregnant terrifies me, but the rest of our lives are looming. Our wedding is imminent, planned for a few weeks after I graduate. We’ll be honeymooning on an island off the coast of Portugal, and there will be plenty of time for baby-making then.

But we’ve got to start somewhere.




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