Chapter Four: Bound Temptation
978 Words
Sarah’s breath hitched, her whole body frozen as Liam’s words echoed in the room.
You’re the one who chained me.
Impossible. She couldn’t have, could she? She had been drunk, yes, dangerously drunk. But chaining a man, this man to her bed? That wasn’t just reckless, it was insane.
Yet here he was, wrists bound in shining cuffs, broad chest rising and falling, gray-blue eyes smoldering as though he enjoyed every second of her panic.
Sarah’s hands clutched the sheets to her chest as though they could shield her from the sheer beauty of him. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and heat burned low in her belly despite her best attempts at reason.
“You’re lying,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I—I don’t even own cuffs.”
His smirk deepened, devastating and slow. “You don’t remember, do you?”
Her mouth went dry.
Liam shifted, the movement sending a ripple through the muscles of his arms and chest. The cuffs clinked against the headboard, the sound wicked in the silence. “You pulled them out from your drawer,” he said casually, as if he were recounting the weather. “Said you wanted to make sure I didn’t escape.”
Sarah’s stomach flipped. Drawer? Oh, dear God. She knew exactly which drawer he meant, the one her friend had gifted her years ago with things she swore she’d never use. She’d laughed, stuffed it away, and never touched it since. Until last night, apparently.
Her cheeks flamed.
Liam tilted his head, watching her unravel. “Don’t look so horrified. You were…” His voice dipped lower, rougher. “…quite persuasive.”
Her body betrayed her. A shiver ran down her spine, and she clutched the sheets tighter, her thighs pressing together in a desperate attempt to still the ache between them. She couldn’t remember, and yet, every detail he fed her, every tease, sparked images in her head that made her skin prickle with heat.
“You’re lying,” she repeated, but the words lacked strength.
“Am I?” His eyes glittered. He tugged at the cuffs again, his biceps flexing, veins standing out like temptation carved in flesh. “Then come closer. Prove it.”
Her heart stopped.
He was daring her. No, worse, inviting her. His voice was silk and fire, pulling her in despite every alarm in her head.
“I’m not coming closer,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Why not?” His lips curved. “Afraid?”
The word hit her like a spark. Afraid. No, she wasn’t afraid. Not exactly. She was something worse, hungry. Hungry for the impossible perfection stretched out before her, helpless and half-naked, yet somehow in control with every look, every word.
Sarah’s knees weakened. She forced herself to stand, to put distance between them. She crossed to the dresser, pretending to busy herself with the clutter there, but her eyes betrayed her, darting back again and again to his body.
Every inch of him gleamed in the morning light, his abs tight, his chest broad, his boxers riding low on his hips. The sight of his long legs stretched out on her bed sent another wave of heat crashing through her. Even his feet, damn it. How could feet be that beautiful? Long toes, veined arches, masculine perfection from head to toe.
Her breath hitched audibly. She prayed he hadn’t noticed.
He had.
“You’re staring,” he said softly, amusement curling through every syllable.
Her head snapped up, cheeks blazing. “I am not!”
Liam chuckled, a deep sinful sound that rolled over her skin like thunder. “You are. And I don’t mind.”
Sarah’s heart stuttered.
He shifted again, muscles flexing against the restraints, his abs tightening deliciously as he leaned forward as far as the cuffs would allow. His eyes pinned her in place, molten and daring.
“Come here,” he said, low and commanding.
Her breath caught. “What?”
“You heard me. Come here.”
Every nerve in her body screamed at her to resist, but her feet betrayed her, carrying her toward him in slow, trembling steps. She stopped at the edge of the bed, clutching the sheets around her body like a shield.
Liam’s gaze dragged over her, hungry and unashamed. His tongue flicked over his bottom lip, and Sarah nearly melted on the spot.
“Closer,” he whispered.
She shook her head, her pulse a frantic drumbeat. “You’re insane.”
“Maybe.” His smirk returned, wicked and irresistible. “But so are you. You chained me, remember?”
Her knees buckled, her body trembling with the truth she couldn’t deny. Her arousal pulsed hot and undeniable, slick need building even as her mind screamed at her to stop.
Liam leaned back against the headboard, his voice dropping to a husky growl. “You want to touch me, Sarah.”
Her name on his lips nearly undid her.
“No…” she whispered, but the word was weak, a lie they both heard.
“Yes.” His gray-blue eyes burned into her. “You want to touch me. To see if I’m real. To know what it feels like to run your hands over every inch of me while I can’t stop you.”
Her thighs squeezed together helplessly. Heat raced through her body, her breath coming shallow and fast. The sight of him cuffed, helpless yet smug, was the most dangerous temptation she’d ever faced.
Liam tugged at the cuffs again, the metallic rattle a dark promise. His voice was a velvet dagger as he whispered, “The question is… will you?”
Sarah trembled, caught between terror and desire, staring at the impossibly gorgeous man chained to her bed.
Her lips parted, her body aching, her control slipping.
And then, she reached out.
- Writer
