I woke up to the sound of chains clinking against the bedposts.
Dreams from last night were swirling through my head. The paintings I’d done, the mindblowing orgasms I’d received from an expert tongue between my legs. Knox Blackwell, billionaire, tying me down naked to a bed and choking me with his huge c**k.
Knox.
I opened my eyes. He was unhooking the chains from the sides of the bed. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a business meeting—his white shirt was crisp and clean, and he’d put on a new suit, one that wasn’t stained with paint. He looked down at my body and smiled slowly, his jaw dark from where he hadn’t bothered to shave. And I…
I was still naked.
It hadn’t been a dream.
“Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning.”
I didn’t talk about what had happened
