Little Sneak Peek!

Unedited Peek! (it's shaping up very nicely and I thought it'd be fun to share a little of what's headed your way on 9/15)

Yeah!  At His Hands: Part II

Break Me

“On your mother’s bed?” I pressed my ruined clothes against my chest and moved away from him. Besides the fact my backside was still sore from the beating he’d given me that morning, having sex on another person’s bed just seemed wrong. “No.” I shook my head, determined to stand my ground this time.  “I can’t do it.”

James’s smile had grown hungry, wolf-like, as his hand loosened the knot in his tie.

“I’m not doing it.” I held the dress tighter and took a step away from him.

“You’re going to have to be very quiet.” He slid the tie off and tossed his suit jacket on the nearby chair.

“James,” I whispered “We can’t do this.”

“I can do whatever I want. This is my house and every stick of furniture in it belongs to me so I'm completely free to bend you over whatever object I choose, and I want to fuck you right here right now.”

The harshness of his words caught me. James was driven by ownership and eventually I was going to have to see that I was little more than an object to be owned. Owned and taken care of. No one had ever bothered to take care of me and I wondered what it would feel like. There was something about the simplicity of that idea that I liked. To be possessed. To be owned. To live as another person's most beloved piece of property. I had to catch my breath. The whole concept was overwhelming and terrifying.

I dropped the dress and moved toward the bed.

“How would you like me sir?” I asked as I turned away from him.

James came up behind me, his hands skirting up the length of my spine. “This is the most naked I’ve seen you,” he murmured as his fingers unhooked my bra with a smooth motion. “Maybe when we get to New York I’ll make you walk around naked all the time.”

I held still while he slid the bra off my shoulders and tossed it on the bed. The thought of being naked in front of him made my heart race.

 “Hands behind your back,” he said as he took hold of my wrists and guided them where he wanted them to go.

I had to bite my lip when the warm silk tightened around my wrists.

He was restraining me.

I swallowed back the panic that bore down on me. It seemed foolish to get nervous now. After all, up until this point I'd let him do whatever he wanted to me without putting up any kind of fight. I should have balked this morning when he bent me over the railing of the veranda and whipped me or when he forced me down on my knees. I'd taken all of that without a moment of hesitation. 

But this?

My stomach did another flip as James pulled the tie tighter. Being restrained meant that I was at his mercy...