I lay face-down on the massive bed, wrists secured to the headboard with soft leather restraints that gave me just enough slack to shift but not enough to escape. The silk sheets felt cool against my overheated skin, but they did nothing to soothe the burning ache across my ass. Every small movement sent fresh reminders of Dante’s palm — sharp, stinging heat that refused to fade.
The room was quiet except for the low crackle of the fireplace. I kept my face buried in the pillow, trying to steady my breathing, trying to ignore the confusing storm raging inside me. Anger. Humiliation. And something far worse: a persistent, throbbing wetness between my thighs that made me want to scream.
The doors opened softly.
I tensed, refusing to look up. Footsteps approached — slow, deliberate. The b
