Page 106 of Manic

“What?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d know something like that. Did she tell you, or did you learn it?”

“She told me once, and I remembered.” His eyes narrowed before amusement took over his expression. Then his voice dipped. “Just because I kidnapped you, doesn’t mean my memory is faulty.”

I rolled my eyes and mumbled, “Of course not, why would it be?”

The further we walked, the higher the flowers rose, each section carrying its own unique scent. A wall of peonies wildly sprouted in every direction when we reached a secluded corner near the back, the floral scent practically attacking my nose.

My heart violently thumped, followed by a surge of annoyance as I recalled all my failed dates—the ones he’d sabotaged and delivered peonies to.

I could feel Manic’s eyes blazing into the side of my face, so I shoved the thought aside. He remained quiet, but the heat of his gaze was distracting. When I finally risked a glance, I immediately regretted it.

“What?” I rasped.

He smiled and angled his head to the side. I recognized the look, and my stomach flipped. He couldn’t be serious. Now? I glanced over his shoulder, hoping to see that woman near the front. Where was she?

In a single step, Manic crowded me with a low laugh, pried the sheers from my fingers, and pinned me against the shelf. We hid behind the wall of peonies. He placed our items on the ground before skimming his fingers along the hem of my dress. My bare thigh.

“This is no place—” I started.

“Shh, or the nice old lady at the front will hear you.”

My breathing stuttered. He’d corralled me into the back corner like prey, and I’d fallen for it. Again.

Manic leaned in—so close that his mouth hovered over mine. He didn’t close the distance, though, just moved his fingers higher and higher up my hem until my skin buzzed and an involuntary warmth spread over me.

I bit my lip, stifling a moan while he grazed my panties, sweeping it sideways to part me with two fingers. He teased my clit and stroked until I squirmed, my heart racing at the thought of getting caught. The base of my spine tingled, and just as I was on the verge of climaxing, he paused, eyes sparking.

“Is your pussy nice and wet for me?” he asked. I nodded and shamelessly rocked into his hand again. God, I was an idiot. “Good. Now take off your underwear.”

“What?” I hissed, looking behind me only to be met with a peony in my face. I blew out a breath. We were isolated.

I faced him once more, a beat of silence stretching. Just by the look on his face, I knew he was serious. Embarrassment crept up my neck. Then my mouth dropped open, my face now flaming with realization.

He was humiliating me in public. That was my punishment. Or one of them, maybe. I couldn’t tell.

“There’s people⁠—”

“Take. Them. Off,” he ordered.

I gritted my teeth, knowing full well he wouldn’t let this go. If taking my underwear off was all I had to do, then fine. I could do that, even if the thought of walking around with nothing on made me slightly uncomfortable.

A deceptively sweet smile lined my mouth as I reached up my skirt and shimmied out of my red thong. Manic gave a devilish grin when I handed them over, and he tucked them into his back pocket.

“Get on your knees.”

My eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly.” He silenced my protest with a hand over my mouth, his smile growing wider as he whispered, “You will get on your knees and do as you’re told, but I have a few rules.”

I exhaled heavily into his palm, my heart racing with every frantic breath that escaped my nose. My chest grew hot because the asshole was entirely too pleased with my punishment. Yet the thrill from doing this in public had my blood on fire.

“We can’t get caught,” he explained, peering above the flowers before sliding his eyes back. “No noise. No crying your makeup off. And you can’t cum.”

My eyes practically bulged from their sockets. When he removed his palm off my face, I curled my lip. “You do realize you’re the loud one, right?”

He scoffed. “I’m not loud.”