And then a horrible, wonderful, terrifying idea popped into her mind. No, it was idiotic. Crazy.
But he did want her. And she wanted him. More importantly, she was desperate and at the end of her options. Insane as it was, it might work.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Cadan felt himself surface from a sleep as deep as death. As his eyes adjusted in the dark, he reached up to rub them, but his arms jerked to a halt.
Leather straps bit into his wrists.
The fog of sleep dissipated immediately and he jerked on the bonds. They held tight.
Why the fuck was he chained to his bed? More importantly, where was Diana? Had she been kidnapped?
Shite. Heart pounding in his chest, he roared, “Diana!”
“Oh, you’re awake.” The voice came from the side of the bed. He wasn’t alone, and though it sounded like Diana, the voice was throatier, sexier. She sounded like a woman who had just awakened after being fucked long and hard during the night. He wanted to be the one making her sound like that.
Cadan turned his head toward the voice and nearly swallowed his tongue when Diana rose from a chair by the bed, clad in nothing but scraps of lace that cupped supple flesh. The pale pink covered her breasts, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of large pink nipples. A thousand times better than he’d imagined.
His eyes were dragged downward and his breath caught. The curls at the juncture of her thighs were the same beautiful shade as those on her head. He ached to touch her there. To taste.
He jerked his gaze up to hers. “Diana,” he whispered hoarsely. “Come here. Untie me.”
Let me put my hands on you.
How had he thought to resist her? He strained against the bonds, desperate to have his hands, his mouth, on her. To tear away the scraps of lace and make her his in a way that she would never forget.
Nay. Resist her.
She just shook her head. “No, don’t struggle. They’re the Maoin straps, so you can’t get out.”
She placed one knee on the bed, then began to crawl toward him, her heavy hair hanging over her shoulder and her eyes hot. Dark deeds flashed in her eyes and his cock leapt.
Was he dreaming? This was straight out of his fantasies, but when he jerked on the straps that bound him to the bed, it became clear that this was very much real life. Diana reached him then, the sultry smell of her skin, her hair, her pussy reaching inside him to squeeze.
She straddled his stomach and looked down at him. The heat of her sex burned him.
She rested her hands on his chest and began to rub her thumbs across his nipples. Goosebumps broke out on his flesh where she touched him, lightly trailing her fingers over his chest.
To have her so close and not be able to touch and taste? Torture.
Focus, Cadan. “What in the hell are you doing, lassie? How the hell did you get me tied up?”
“I called Esha. She gave me a sleeping spell for you. Some powder, like pixie dust, that I had to blow into your room after you’d fallen asleep. I didn’t want you waking up while I fastened the straps.”
He tried to keep his eyes on hers, but they were drawn down her body once again. She was ethereally pale, with small breasts and a trim waist that flared into beautiful hips. Freckles dotted her shoulders and chest.
Who was this woman? “What in the hell are you doin’?”
His cock was painfully stiff, so hard that it strained against her ass. He yanked at the bonds again, but they didn’t budge.
“I’ll tell you, but first, I want to know something.”
“Aye?”
“You like me, right?”
“Nay, lassie, this hard-on has nothing to do with you.”