I was still catching my breath when he stepped away.
The bed shifted under me, the air cooling where his heat had been. I heard the faint creak of the drawer by the nightstand opening.
“What are you”
“Shh.”
The sound of metal against metal made my pulse jump. I turned my head just enough to see it—something dark, gleaming in his hand.
Handcuffs.
“That’s against the rules,” I said, my voice thin. The club had strict limits—no restraints without prior consent.
He smiled, slow and deliberate. “Then don’t tell anyone.”
Before I could argue, he was back, pressing me forward onto the sheets again. The cold steel closed around one wrist, then the other, locking them together above my head.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears. I could have said stop. I should have.
But I didn’t.
His hand
