Free Hope Restrained (Estate Series) by M.S. Willis Page B

tired eyes. When the chained had been stretched taut and her
hand couldn’t go farther, she groaned and rolled so that her face was pressed
against the pillow.”
    Turning, he went back into the bathroom to get a glass of
water, filling the cup, he took a vial of clear liquid from his pocket, adding
a few drops. It wasn’t fair for him to keep her drugged, however he wanted her
shoulder to have time to heal before she moved in a way that might injure it
further. He’d lied to tell her that the last dose had been given when they’d
removed the bullet, but he didn’t feel guilty for having done so.
    When he approached her again, he placed the glass on the
table, reaching his hand beneath her back and pulling her up into a seated
position. The chains had just enough slack that she could move about
semi-freely; another good reason to keep her sedated.
    “Drink this. It will make you feel better.”
    Her mouth and throat worked hungrily at the liquid, her
tongue sweeping out against the glass, desperate for the last drops of
moisture. He pulled it away and set it back on the table.
    Her head rolled in his direction, the sluggish movement
youthful and endearing. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to beg you not to
fuck me?” Her gold eyes flicked open but remained hooded. “Where I say I’ll
tell you everything if you’ll just spare me my dignity?”
    He thought about her words. Smiling, he replied, “Well, it
would make things easier.”
    “Fuck you.” The corners of her lips curled. “You’re wasting
your time, unless it’s for your own benefits more so than for making me talk.” Her
speech was slow, slurred, but he appreciated the intelligence that remained hidden
behind the fog he’d created in her head. However, his dissatisfaction with her
continued fight rubbed irritatingly across his nerves.
    Slipping his hand between her legs, he slid upwards against
the skin, pinching it between his thumb and finger while the other fingertips
gripped into the muscle of her thigh. Her head rolled back, her body arching
slightly in response to the hints of pleasurable pain he was forcing through
her. Reaching the apex of her thighs, he pulled up, barely brushing against the
flesh, his eyes taking in how her body responded to every soft touch.
    Running his hand over the slight curve to her stomach, he
stopped at her ribs, tracing his fingertip along her breast. His words came out
in a throaty whisper. “I don’t need to fuck you to get inside you, Hope. I know
what you like, what excites your body despite your hatred of me. I know your
dirty little secret, the one you use to your advantage.”
    Her eyes widened as much as the haze would allow and she
looked at him, focused on the features of his face and appeared to study him; every
expression, every movement. He enjoyed these moments; ones where she was
between doses, when hints of her drive and personality peeked through the fog
until the next wave of euphoria returned her to oblivion. He pressed his hand
up until it covered her breast and, after taking the soft skin on the side
between his fingers, he bent down to bite on the hardened tip while pinching at
the side. His tongue laved across the tip and she arched up almost instantly,
the flexibility of her body apparent in the way it bent towards him. While
continuing to work at her breast, to apply just enough pressure to awaken the
nerve that ran to her core, he looked up at her. Her lip curled up, her teeth
grit together. Her hands wrapped into the chains to which they were secured and
she writhed, silently begging for more, for a sharper high — a stronger
hit to her system in order to induce the rush of blood and endorphins that came
after it. His body shivered over her, his own rushing blood creating in him an
inferno of desperate want. He enjoyed overtaking her, empowered by not only
dominating her, but for sending her to heights he wasn’t sure she’d reached
before.
    When he released her breast, he