My world spun at the way his whisper was possessive and the hotness of his breath against my ear. The snap of the handcuff was not only cold but brutal. It reminded me of that night and the pleasure that followed. I swallowed, heat pulling up between my thighs.
Dawn pulled me forward with the short length of chain connecting the cuff on my wrist to the one on his belt. The movement was a command, not a request, and it brought me stumbling right to the edge of his mahogany desk. He sat down slowly, deliberately, his long, powerful legs stretching out slightly, and pulling me to sit on his laps, pressed against him. The chain between us was just long enough to allow me to perch on the edge of his lap, half-sitting on his right thigh, my left hand free but uselessly resting on the desk.
