couldn’t speak. She could hear her teeth chattering from a distance. She sank to the ground, a shaking, frozen bundle of nerves. She hadn’t the strength to fight him.
“Tahima, please, I can’t help you like this. Trust me this one time.”
God, she was so cold. She tried to work out what he wanted from her. Her head felt like wool.
“Please, Tahima, the keys!”
She nodded. It was a struggle to take the chain off her neck. When she had, he turned his back to her and dropped to his knees, presenting her with his wrists encased in steel, rigid handcuffs. She could barely tell which key to choose, let alone hold it. She fumbled about trying to get it to fit in the lock. She tried again. His right wrist fell free. Her eyes began to close. He spun around and caught her before her head hit rock. He pulled her against his chest. His hands rubbed her arms, chafing her skin.
He was hurting her. Just like before . . .
“Stephen,” she whimpered. “Stephen messed with my head.”
~ Chapter Six ~
Tahima woke up wrapped in long limbs and curled into a warm body with something hard pressed against her back. Memory returned full force and she opened her eyes. Shit . She’d let Rossini free . And he was slumbering behind her.
Her pulse started to race.
She realized they were stark naked because their clothes were laid out steaming on the ground. The sun was high in the sky. They could only have been asleep an hour. It felt like a week. Her eyes scanned the rocky ledge outside the crystal cave and she appreciated the wisdom of letting the warm stone leech into her aching bones.
She started to carefully lift one of his hands aside when fingers gripped her arm.
“I gave you my word,” he said as she froze. Then he let her go.
Tahima scrambled to her feet, grabbed her T-shirt off the ground and pressed it against her as she turned. “You undressed me!”
He sat up slowly, hands raised. “Nothing else, I swear.”
“You had a hard on against my ass.”
He grimaced. “Tahima, looking at you turns me on. I can’t help it.”
She shook her head. “No—”
“I only warmed you up. You were freezing. I did nothing else.”
“Turn around.”
He didn’t hesitate, swiveling on his ass to face away.
Tahima pulled her T-shirt over her head, swamped by conflicting emotions— fear and anger predominant.
She hunted for the zip lock bag and found it. The stun gun was inside, intact. She took it out and switched the drive stun on to check it was still working. Rossini visibly flinched, but he did not look back. Her heart settled back into place to see it was undamaged.
She found her panties and slipped them on. They were slightly damp, but her warm skin would dry them out. Her jeans needed longer. She straightened, back in control. Now when she looked at his naked profile all she felt was the heat of desire.
Rossini hadn’t moved. She realized he was waiting for her decision—giving her control so she wasn’t forced to take it.
What to do?
She moistened her lips with her tongue. “Stand up and turn around.”
Again he did as she bid without hesitation. He stood before her naked, his cock at half-mast. His eyes flicked to the stun gun.
“You don’t need that to control me.”
“What if I want this to punish you?”
His cock stiffened. “Then we’ve already agreed the limits.”
“That’s it?” Her lips twitched. “Hands off the balls?”
His eyes glinted in a way she didn’t understand. “However you want to put it.”
Tahima relaxed. “I can touch you . . .”
He looked confused. “If that’s what you want, Tahima.”
She stood there for several seconds trying to work out what she did want. Debating if she was certifiable. She was dancing on the knife-edge with Gian Rossini. Did she hold the power here? Who was enthralled to whom? Seconds ticked by. He didn’t move, waiting for her to decide.
Her feet made the decision for her. She moved to stand in
“Tahima, please, I can’t help you like this. Trust me this one time.”
God, she was so cold. She tried to work out what he wanted from her. Her head felt like wool.
“Please, Tahima, the keys!”
She nodded. It was a struggle to take the chain off her neck. When she had, he turned his back to her and dropped to his knees, presenting her with his wrists encased in steel, rigid handcuffs. She could barely tell which key to choose, let alone hold it. She fumbled about trying to get it to fit in the lock. She tried again. His right wrist fell free. Her eyes began to close. He spun around and caught her before her head hit rock. He pulled her against his chest. His hands rubbed her arms, chafing her skin.
He was hurting her. Just like before . . .
“Stephen,” she whimpered. “Stephen messed with my head.”
~ Chapter Six ~
Tahima woke up wrapped in long limbs and curled into a warm body with something hard pressed against her back. Memory returned full force and she opened her eyes. Shit . She’d let Rossini free . And he was slumbering behind her.
Her pulse started to race.
She realized they were stark naked because their clothes were laid out steaming on the ground. The sun was high in the sky. They could only have been asleep an hour. It felt like a week. Her eyes scanned the rocky ledge outside the crystal cave and she appreciated the wisdom of letting the warm stone leech into her aching bones.
She started to carefully lift one of his hands aside when fingers gripped her arm.
“I gave you my word,” he said as she froze. Then he let her go.
Tahima scrambled to her feet, grabbed her T-shirt off the ground and pressed it against her as she turned. “You undressed me!”
He sat up slowly, hands raised. “Nothing else, I swear.”
“You had a hard on against my ass.”
He grimaced. “Tahima, looking at you turns me on. I can’t help it.”
She shook her head. “No—”
“I only warmed you up. You were freezing. I did nothing else.”
“Turn around.”
He didn’t hesitate, swiveling on his ass to face away.
Tahima pulled her T-shirt over her head, swamped by conflicting emotions— fear and anger predominant.
She hunted for the zip lock bag and found it. The stun gun was inside, intact. She took it out and switched the drive stun on to check it was still working. Rossini visibly flinched, but he did not look back. Her heart settled back into place to see it was undamaged.
She found her panties and slipped them on. They were slightly damp, but her warm skin would dry them out. Her jeans needed longer. She straightened, back in control. Now when she looked at his naked profile all she felt was the heat of desire.
Rossini hadn’t moved. She realized he was waiting for her decision—giving her control so she wasn’t forced to take it.
What to do?
She moistened her lips with her tongue. “Stand up and turn around.”
Again he did as she bid without hesitation. He stood before her naked, his cock at half-mast. His eyes flicked to the stun gun.
“You don’t need that to control me.”
“What if I want this to punish you?”
His cock stiffened. “Then we’ve already agreed the limits.”
“That’s it?” Her lips twitched. “Hands off the balls?”
His eyes glinted in a way she didn’t understand. “However you want to put it.”
Tahima relaxed. “I can touch you . . .”
He looked confused. “If that’s what you want, Tahima.”
She stood there for several seconds trying to work out what she did want. Debating if she was certifiable. She was dancing on the knife-edge with Gian Rossini. Did she hold the power here? Who was enthralled to whom? Seconds ticked by. He didn’t move, waiting for her to decide.
Her feet made the decision for her. She moved to stand in
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