"Co back here and untie , you bastard!" Serena called out, her voice fierce as she struggled against the ropes that held her securely to the bed, her body writhing with frustration.
But no matter how much she struggled, the ropes didn’t budge. Lucian had ensured that, his knots tied with cruel precision, each one holding her firmly in place.
After disarming and dragging her to the bed, he had pinned her down on the soft surface, the weight of his body pressing her deeper into the mattress as he held both of her hands with one of his above her head. With his other hand, he reached for a sturdy rope, its texture like fabric against her skin, and secured her hands to the headboard with a thodical, unhurried movent.
He moved to do the sa to her legs, his movents deliberate and unhurried, ignoring her fruitless struggles and the curses she hurled at him. Each vulgarity made his lips twitch in dark amusent, his excitent growing with every defiant word she spat.
He secured her legs to the bed, but this ti, he didn’t tie them together as he had with her hands. Instead, he made sure her legs were slightly separated after he tied them, positioning her in a way that left her exposed—vulnerable in a manner that made heat crawl slowly up her neck, her skin burning with a mixture of anger and sothing else she couldn’t quite place.
Satisfied with his job after admiring it for a short while, he started toward the door, but her words made him halt mid-step.
"I swear I’m going to kill you Lucian if you don’t untie and let go this minute," Serena spouted.
Lucian turned his head to her slowly, his gaze heavy-lidded.
"Keep talking. Your voice turns the hell on," he responded to her venomous request to untie her, the words dripping with sinful promise. Afterwards, he stepped outside and grabbed Mitchell’s hand, his grip unyielding.
"Mr. Draven," Marlowe called his na, her voice tight with unspoken warnings, but he didn’t allow her to continue what she wanted to say, already knowing what it was. He could even predict the exact words that would fall out of her lips.
"Save it, Marlowe," Lucian cut her off, the finality in his tone leaving no room for argunt. He then pulled Mitchell into the room and shut the door with a decisive click.
His gaze lingered on Serena for a mont, taking in the way she was glaring at Mitchell with dangerous intensity, her eyes promising violence. He could tell that if he untied her at that mont, Mitchell would be toast—dead before she knew what was happening.
Lucian couldn’t help but wonder what Mitchell had done to provoke such anger, what secrets simred beneath the surface that had pushed her to this point.
"What are you waiting for? Strip," Lucian ordered, his voice like cracked ice, and Mitchell moved with chanical efficiency, looking away from Serena’s blistering gaze.
Mitchell didn’t know exactly what Lucian was up to, but she held her tongue, sensing the air had thickened with tension. The last thing she wanted was to further offend him, especially after everything that had already transpired. Still, the weight of the situation pressed down on her, the gravity of her predicant settling like a cold stone in her gut. She could feel the storm brewing around her, and despite her attempts to stay calm, the uneasy knot in her stomach told her she was already in deep trouble.
"What are you doing?" Serena asked in alarm, her voice higher than usual as she watched Mitchell with a mix of confusion and rising panic, already taking off her dress without any hesitation.
The fabric pooled at her feet, and Serena’s heart raced. "Let go! I’m not interested in watching your private affairs!" She struggled against the ropes once more, her hands pulling at the restraints with all her strength. The bedfra creaked in protest under the strain, but she knew it wouldn’t budge. Her muscles burned with the effort, straining uselessly as the ropes held firm, leaving her trapped in a sea of helplessness.
Lucian didn’t respond to her. He only stared, his gaze intense as he drank in the sight of her tied to his bed, her body wriggling in defiance, her movents sharp and restless. He watched as her chest heaved with each furious breath, the anger in her eyes only adding to her raw beauty.
Every little thing she did, every shift of her body, turned him on to no end—a fact that both irritated and exhilarated him in equal asure. The more she fought against the ropes, the more he found himself drawn to her, torn between wanting to break her defiance and simply enjoying the chaos she stirred in him.
It was a dream co true—although the dream wasn’t and couldn’t be complete yet, if ever, not while she still looked at him with those fiery, hate-filled eyes.
He hadn’t wanted to do this, but she had stubbornly refused to leave his room when he had asked her to, her defiance sparking sothing deep and primal in him that he couldn’t ignore. The more she pushed, the more the tension in him built, until he couldn’t hold back. She wanted a show? Fine. He would give her a good one—one she wouldn’t forget, one that would make her realize the consequences of challenging him.
From the corner of his eye, he could see that Mitchell only had her red lingerie on and was waiting for further instructions, her posture submissive.
"Completely, Mitchell. I don’t want any piece of clothing on your body," he ordered, his voice rough. Just as he anticipated, Serena shot him a shocked look, her lips parting slightly.
She had stopped struggling and was now alternating between looking at him and looking at Mitchell, who once again was carrying out the instruction without hesitation, her fingers making quick work of the remaining garnts.
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