Hera's POV
I roll onto my stomach, and he straddles my lower back, his weight pinning me to the sleeping bag. I feel his hands gather both my wrists behind me — firm but not rough, one hand holding them together while the other wraps the leather belt around them.
The first loop is snug. He pulls it tighter, and the leather bites into my skin — not painful, not yet, but present enough that I feel it with every breath. He threads the belt through the buckle and cinches it, and the click of metal in the quiet tent makes my stomach flip.
I’m bound. My wrists crossed behind my back, leather digging into them, completely at his mercy in a tent thirty feet from my sleeping brother.
My heart is hammering, my p***y is throbbing, and I’m terrified and turned on in equal measure. The combination
