Page 101 of The Silencer
Tatum.
Even in my dreams he haunts me, consumes me. I can hear his voice, smell his scent, feel the way he moves across my skin as he straddles me, his fingers threading with mine. I arch up and let him have me, missing his touch the longer he lingers in my dreams.
My eyelids flutter open when I hear my name.
Anthony.
As I slowly wake, I see the object of all my obsession hovering over me, his hair falling into his face, his eyes sparkling with something mischievous.
My hands reach to touch him, but I suddenly realize that I can’t move. My wrists have been handcuffed to the bedpost.
I yank at them, my eyes widening. Tatum just tuts at me, like I’m some spoiled child.
“Now, now, Anthony. No need to get so feisty. I got these handcuffs from Bane. Bomb proof, he said.” He runs his hands down my skin, his nails rough against my heaving chest.
“Let me go, Tatum,” I grind out, my voice rough and angry. He tied me up. That little shit tied me up while I was sleeping and subconsciously, I let him.
I probably even helped him, I was so desperate to have him again.
He taps his lips with a finger. “Um. No. Not happening.”
He tweaks my nipple roughly and my nostrils flare.
“Tatum, you have no idea what you’re doing,” I warn, my anger building, and yet that switch has flipped and I feel my cock perk up despite it all.
“But I really do know. I have so many ideas, Anthony. I’m so mad at you. I have sat for two days thinking up ways to make you pay.”
I huff and yank on my restraints once more, but they don’t budge. And if what he’s said is true, then they won’t. Bane has a knack for collecting impenetrable things.
Handcuffs would be one of them.
I crane my head to the right and see the pink fuzzy fabric lining the insides of the metal cuffs and give in to a small, aggravated laugh.
Of course he gave Tatum these ones. The two of them probably conspired at the wedding. I saw them hunched over and talking lowly. I barely stopped myself from walking up to the two of them and yanking Tatum away. I know Bane has an unhealthy obsession with him.
Not that mine is healthy, but still. He’s mine.
I found him first.
Mine.
“We’ve discussed this,” I say as Tatum tweaks my nipple again, harder this time, making me hiss. “But you didn’t get your way, so now you’re acting out.”
Tatum’s eyes flash and then he reaches for something behind him. He pulls out a silk cloth and waggles it in front of my face.
“I think I may have to gag you, Mr. Costello. I don’t want you to speak. At all. Unless it’s to beg me. I’m honestly just here to make you suffer.”
My cheeks heat when I see the lube in his hand and a small dildo in the other.
That little shit is going to fuck me while I’m tied up and possibly gagged. My admiration for him grows, and I feel my cock jerk between my legs. I like it when he takes charge. Love the fierceness in his gaze.
It makes me want him all the more.
My little kitten has claws.
“Just know this, Tatum,” I bite out, my chest heaving as he straddles my thighs and pours lube onto my hard length. “When I’m free of these restraints, you will regret this.”
“Oh, how scary,” he teases and then grabs on to my cock roughly, making my breath come out in a hiss. Tatum is stronger than he looks. “I’m so worried.”