Her guard, her temptation

6

kaira astor

His thick, black lashes narrow as his eyes fall to my cheek, where a stray tear rolls. "You're scared." It's not a question. "That's good." A cruel smirk tugs at his lips as he leans in closer, his breath falling over my lips, his eyes burning through mine. "You should be."

His warm, callous hand around my neck tightens, a thrill of darkness trailing through my body. My toes curl inside my shoes as I crane my throbbing head back against the stone, narrowing my eyes as I stare up into Zyran's dark eyes. His eyes shine with withering determination, his green irises brimming with mischief, so overwhelming that my fingers curl up into fists. "I'm not scared of you," I croak out, my throat dry with anticipation, and the rush of words betraying me.

My heart spikes as I hold his wrist with both hands but don't fight him. I'm terrified of him, but I won't show it, not when he has me against the wall with his hand wrapped around my throat-- in a hold so tight it feels like he can snap my neck whenever he feels like it. "Really?" He taunts, the sly edge to his voice rolling down my spine. His fingers squeeze the sides of my neck, my breath hitching in my throat. He steps forward, barreling into my space and my eyes bulge as his leg slides between my knees, pining me in place.

A rush of adrenaline pools through me, my breathing turning labored. My head feels heavy, and my body is tingling. What is he doing? His eyes flicker down to my chest, lingering on the spot above my breasts. "Because your heart is racing." Zyran's head falls into a tilt, his green eyes roving over my face. I push my nails into his skin, anger firing to life within me, from both humiliation and frustration. "Let f*****g go of me." I hiss out around the hold he has on my throat, still not pushing at his chest.

I'm smart enough to know that using violence in a moment like this isn't going to work in my favor. I can't escape him. He's too big and too strong. Too lethal and too unpredictable. "You've made your point." And, he has. Clearly, this man has no problem forcing me into submission-- not that I would ever obey-- which is a terrifying realization on its own. Upon that clusterfuck of realizations, is the glimmering one that reminds me of the way my body is reacting to his. With his strong, broad thigh nestled between mine, his leg pushes against my most sensitive area, and if I were to lean forward, heat would pool in my stomach from the sensitive nub brushing against his lean thigh.

"I haven't even started, princess." There's promise in his voice, the tone unnerving. I don't like that. He leans forward, pressing his other hand into the stone beside my head so slowly that I hold my breath despite the lack of oxygen I have in my lungs due to the pressure around my throat, and shiver when his breath falls over my ear. "After I'm done proving my point, you'll be begging me for mercy and I promise you," His hand flexes around my neck. "You won't be taking that tone with me." I'm breathless by the time he pulls away and stares down at me, his jaw clenched so tightly that I half expect to hear his teeth crack.

"Stop acting like I'm scared of you, because I'm not." I snap through clenched teeth, leaning forward and immediately regret it when my heart skitters the moment heat clenches in my stomach from brushing further against his leg. Heat crawls over my neck to my cheeks in an almost punishing way, my mind melting with humiliation. His hand adjusts on my throat, moving from restraining me to feeling my pulse. His hand rough and cold on my exposed skin. "Then I guess this racing heart means you feel something else for me."

As the words slip from his lips, I remove my hands from his wrist and place my hands on his chest, ready to push him away from me. His hand falls from the wall and so swiftly, he grasps onto my hands, a wince slicing from my throat as his fingers dig into my palms. He yanks me forward and wraps his hands around my waist, hoisting me over his shoulder. This time, his hold is like a vice. "Are you insane? What are you doing?" I growl out the words, my face pulling up into a snarl. He steps into the hall, striding down the dark corridor.

"Following through with my threat," His voice is low and weaves into the shadows. "Unlike you, I don't make empty threats." Shock momentarily stills my body, my spine rigid as I hang over his shoulder. I'm hoping that one of the soldiers will see us and demand him to let me go, but my prayers fall onto a deaf ear when they all lower their gazes to the ground when we pass-- despite my pleas. By the time we reach my room, and he pushes open my wooden door, I'm a ball of nerves, anxiety clawing at my chest. "I won't sneak out again." I whisper, trying to calm the situation enough to try and escape. No f*****g way I'm allowing him to tie me to the headboard. He must be unwell.

He pulls on my thighs and I yelp, sliding down his body and blink when my feet meet the ground. He pins me in my spot with a glare. "One thing I hate more than disobedience?" He runs his tongue over his teeth, his gaze flicking between mine. "Is lies." The bitterness in his tone hits me square in the f*****g chest. My eyes dart to the side and I know it's a feeble attempt, but adrenaline rushes through me and pushes me to step around him and dart for the door. I'm two steps in before the blinding pain on my scalp explodes through my body from the pull. His hand is wrapped in my strands, yanking me backward until I'm standing in front of the bed. Tears well up in my eyes. Is he crazy? Is he mentally ill?

"What is wrong with you?" I heave out the words, anger brimming inside me. My head hits his chest. "You're only making it painful for yourself," His voice rumbles in his chest, vibrating against my back. "If you'd just do as you're told, I wouldn't have to use force." Zyran's hand falls from my hair, spinning me around so my back is to the bed. He pushes me down by my shoulders, my body jolting against the mattress. With swift movements that cause me to blink, he pulls my hand above my head, wrapping the rope around my wrist. Where the f**k did he get the rope?

I don't have time to blurt out the question as he rounds the bed, yanking my left wrist over my head, but he pauses, his hand stilling on my wrist. I roll my head to the side, gazing up at him through strands of my hair. When I realize what he's looking at, my body stiffens, goosebumps gliding down my skin. No, no, no. I yank against his cold hand, nerves rolling down my spine. There's no expression on his face, nothing apart from light shadows dancing in his eyes as he tightens his hold. "Do you seriously think my father is going to be okay with this? That he's going to be fine with you tying his daughter to the f*****g headboard?" My voice rises with each word, hoping and praying that one of the soldiers will burst through the door to help me.

His hands work skillfully, tying the knot around my wrist with ease. It makes me wonder how many times he has done this before-- how many women he has tied to headboards. "He asked me to teach you discipline," He says flippantly, taking a slow step back and lowers his eyes from the rope to my flushed face. This isn't hot. This isn't hot. This isn't hot. I repeat the same mantra over and over again, forcing my body to remain still. "For that to work, we'll have to force the disobedience out of you," He takes another step back, until he has reached the edge of my bed, where he leans his shoulder against the bedpost, pushing his hands into his pockets.

"Therefore, we're in this situation." His dark eyes flash with an emotion I can't fully grasp onto as his eyes trail over me, from my restrained wrists, all the way down to my heaving chest and halts at my legs. I rotate my wrists, my eyelashes fluttering. Zyran looks like the grim reaper standing over me, towering over me. Completely and utterly at his mercy and I push my body further into the bed. "I won't be able to sleep like this." I tug at my wrists as hard as I can, but the rope doesn't give. "Of course you can, just close your eyes, princess." His lips twitch, his eyelids lowering. "Or don't, think it'd be good if you laid here and thought about your disobedient choices."