Page 142 of Lost to Thievery
She swallowed and pressed her naked thighs together.
Fuck, I loved her depravity.
I bent down and picked the rope up, twisting one side around my fist and letting the rest fall to the ground before me.
Ava narrowed her eyes at the rope, and I watched realisation dawn on her pretty face.
“Yes, baby. Why did you think I led you down here? I made you a promise, didn’t I?” I took two steps forward, tying the end of the rope into a ball, then threw it over one of the wooden beams above our heads.
Anger contorted Ava’s face. “I hate that. I hate when you make me do things that I’m not aware of.”
I grinned as I secured one end of the rope around an iron candle holder bolted to the wall. I tugged on the other end ofthe rope, making sure the holder held fast, my dick feeling like it was about to burst as I imagined Ava strung up on it. “Do you really? I think you love the way I manipulate the world to my will.” I released the rope and took a step closer to her, taking in her beautifully trembling frame in my shirt. “I think you enjoy watching people squirm beneath my boot.” Another step. Ava pressed herself harder into the wine rack. “And I think you enjoy it when I play with you. A puppet on my strings.”
Her eyes fluttered, her mouth falling open, but no witty reply.
I laughed knowingly. “And I don’t even have to be a genius to know it. Look at you. Baby, your thighs are wet with your arousal.”
Ava clenched her jaw and plucked out a wine bottle from its hole and threw it at me. I laughed again as I shifted my head and let it splatter against the wall behind me.
Ava gave an adorable growl and chucked another bottle at my head. Then another. And another.
I caught the last one before my face and set it carefully on the ground, ducking from another bottle in the process. This bottle I was going to gift to Hunt and Gemma on their wedding day. It was one of the oldest bottles still in existence of their favourite brand of wine. It had taken me months to track down with all the shit that had been going on.
I looked up to see Ava’s eyes darting to the stairs and she lunged forward. I swiped my foot out and knocked her feet out from under her. She fell forward, but pushed herself right back up, the movement graceful and calculated. Like she had expected it.
I stood before her, blocking her way out, my insides flipping in anticipation as she paced in front of me, her eyes dangerously narrowed.
My Ved’ma had stopped running. This had turned into something more than our usual cat and mouse games. She was determined to make me eat my words. To overthrow me.
A grin tugged on my lips. One day she would be able to beat me. I would make sure of it. But not tonight. Not yet.
Oh, I was going to enjoy her frustration.
She gave an impressive kick right to my face, her agility surprising me. I stepped backwards, her foot whizzing past me. A quick jab to my ribs followed, and I blocked it, shoving her hand to my left as I stepped to the right. I saw her pull her left arm back and swing. I stood still, taking the shot right on the jaw, the pain shooting through the side of my face.
I took a step back, out of her fist’s reach and flexed my jaw, heat pulsing through my body all the way to my groin. “Oh, fuck yes, baby,” I groaned in pleasure as she shook her hand in satisfaction, already calculating how she could land another punch. She came charging at me, grabbed hold of my arm and twisted in the air, flinging her leg around my neck and flipped me over her, but I grabbed hold of her thigh with both hands as we cartwheeled and used the momentum with which she flung me to yank her back over me as we hit the ground. I swung my legs around her waist and twisted my hips, swinging her body to the side of me and restrained one hand behind her back. I quickly wrapped the dangling rope around her wrist and let go of her. When she turned to swing at me, I pulled the rope tight and her hand snapped to her side. She clawed at the rope around her wrist with her other hand and I looped it around that one too and yanked it tight.
Ava screamed in rage as I made quick work of securing both her wrists tightly together, then jumped to my feet. I pulled on the other end of the rope that’d been secured to the candle holder, and Ava’s arms strained above her head as I lifted her up, all the way to the tips of her toes.
And my God, did it do things to me.
I tied the rope on the holder and turned towards a fuming Ava. She yanked and strained against the rope, her eyes spewing venom at me.
Fucking beautiful.
I circled her, enjoying her ass peeking out from under my shirt. She was full of dust and scuff marks here and there. Her hair was as wild as her eyes, and I knew this memory would make it into the top five.
I gently glided a finger down her cheek. “All strung up. Exactly where I want you. Like the puppet you are,” I teased her. But in all honesty, I was hers. She was the master of my heart, making me do anything and everything to please her.
“Fuck you,” she snarled angrily in my face, straining against the rope to get to me, but her thighs trembled as she squeezed them together again.
I tsked and pushed her thighs apart with my own. “Keep your legs open,” I commanded, not wanting her to get any relief unless it was from me. But as soon as I stepped away, she snapped them closed, a wilful sparkle in her green eyes as she glared at me.
Excitement made my heart beat in my throat. I loved breaking people and Ava was no exception.
I retrieved her knife from the back pocket of my jeans, flipped it open, and slowly brought it to the top of her thighs, electricity pulsing through me in anticipation. I knew she wasn’t going to give up easily, and I loved that about her. Always a fucking challenge.
“Open your legs.”
