Little by little, I ceased my struggles. I opened my eyes. Kyrin loomed over me, his gaze boring into mine. His eyes were a lighter shade of violet than ever before, and they swirled with a life all their own. Concern etched the lines around his frowning mouth.
Our fingers were intertwined, I noticed, our palms flat against each other. The skin on his hands was not smooth but rough and callused, the bones thick and strong. Heat and energy flowed through me, calming me even further. Sunlight dappled through brilliant sapphire curtains covering the large window on the far wall.
“Light,” I said raggedly. “I need more light.”
“Three shades lighter,” Kyrin said. Instantly glowing bulbs dripped like crystal tears from an overhead source, brightly illuminating the spacious room. My gaze circled my surroundings. I lay atop a large, decadent four-poster bed, a crimson velvet canopy cascading around each edge.
Ebony-framed mirrors with gold-plated boundaries hung at each midsection of the wall. Bright pillows of turquoise, emerald, and ruby were scattered across a plump lounging dais, and thick floral carpet draped the polished cherry wood floors. Beside the window, a cobbled hearth devoid of any embers glistened, clean and inviting.
A place of depth and blatant sensuality, most assuredly, but at the moment, it was merely a prison.
I glared up at Kyrin through the haze of my lashes. “Release me,” I snarled. My teeth were clenched so tightly, I feared my jaw might snap. Now that my fear had abandoned me, fury bubbled white-hot in my blood.
Watching me, Kyrin grinned languidly and released my hands from his grip. He eased back on his elbow and traced a fingertip over my thigh. “There. I am no longer holding you.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Bastard. “Cut the ties.”
Still grinning, he shook his head. “Not just yet, I think. Too much do I like you where you are. In my bed. Awaiting my pleasure.”
“I await only your demise.”
He chuckled. “What an amusement you are, little Mia. Where is the passionate woman I kissed?” His finger continued to dance atop my skin. “Do you still lie to yourself about your desires, or just to me?”
I trembled again, unable to halt the motion, then tried to mask my growing arousal and awareness of him with heated words. “Get your hands off of me before I cut them off.”
The wide expanse of his shoulders lifted in a shrug. But he didn’t remove his hand. “I meant only to give you pleasure.”
Or perhaps he meant only to make me scream, I realized. Perhaps he hoped to break my spirit. Well, I would not allow that to happen. Glowering, I jerked up my knee, dislodging his fingers. “You want to pleasure me? Let me go.”
His head angled to the right; his gaze never wavered. “Why does being bound upset you so? Some women have found it quite exciting.”
“Well, those women are idiots.” I tried once again to tug myself free from the restraints, ignoring throbs of pain as the silk cut deeper into my skin. A trickle of blood slithered down my arm, warm against my chilled skin, then dripped off my bare elbow and onto the sheet.
“Be still,” he chided. “You have hurt yourself.”
His face strained with intense concentration as he opened his palms and circled them around my ankles. Warm, tingling heat arced up my calves, then slowly cooled to relaxing perfection.
I hated to admit it, but I didn’t want him to stop. The sensations were too entrancing. Too…right. They were creating a deep hum of carnality within me. I wanted to spread my legs and invite those magic fingers inside. I wanted his mouth on the heat of me, lost in my essence.
“What are you doing?” I questioned, nearly breathless. My back arched.
“Shh,” was all he said.
He caressed his hands up my thighs, over my belly, and to my wrists. I bit back a moan. God, he felt good. He paused a moment to study the tattoo on my wrist. He traced his finger over the black scythe and smiled slowly. “How appropriate.” He deviated to the scar on my inner arm—a little present I’d received from a crazed Mec. He placed a light kiss over the raised, jagged flesh. Our eyes met. His lips were inches from mine. So close, in fact, I felt the sweetness of his breath on my nose. I melted in response. Soon the same drugging warmth settled in my arms, cooling all too quickly.
When Kyrin eased himself away, my wrists and ankles no longer ached. But my body did—it ached for the return of his weight.
I gulped, then asked, “Why did you bring me here?” My traitorous body might yearn for him, but my mind knew better.
His features became a mask of resignation. “I brought you here because we have much to discuss. Uninterrupted. Without your pyre-gun at the ready.”
“What makes you think I’ll talk to you here, hmm?”
He gave another chuckle, that rich, rumbling chuckle that washed all over me, as intimate and inviting as the sweetest kiss. “As if you could resist.”
I released a frustrated growl. He was right. “Just f**king release me!”
“Were I to do that, you would lash out, and we would spend our time together fighting instead of talking.”
I chewed on my bottom lip and remained silent. I couldn’t deny his charge without lying, and while I didn’t mind lying to this man, I knew he’d know the truth, so what was the use?
“A.I.R. will come for you. They’ll trace you by your voice.”
“One, I am not in your database. And two, there are no amplifiers here. No recorders. Even if there were, my home was constructed of soundproof walls. I doubt A.I.R. even knows this place exists.”
I shifted my h*ps atop the comforter, away from him…and for the first time saw what I wore. I was dressed in a white gauzy froth of a gown. Pleats gathered in a low circle at my neck, then split down the middle to cover my br**sts, yet bare my stomach. The soft material gathered again at my waist, riding low on my hips, then draped me from leg to ankle with a thin see-through veil.
A bejeweled armband circled my bicep. Mesmerizing purple stones, too light to be amethysts and too luminescent to be of this earth, formed an intricate pattern around the base. My nails dug into my palms.
How dare he undress me, then redress me so scantily?
“Where are my weapons? My pants and boots?”
Unconcerned with my questions, Kyrin lifted a strand of my hair. The dark lock proved an erotic contrast to the paleness of his skin. “I like your hair this way,” he said. “Unbound. Like a black thundercloud around your face.” Next he trailed a finger over my breast, causing my nipple to pebble and my breath to hitch.