Getting her back was easy. Keeping her safe was murder.
Dallas Detective and Dom Maddox Westbrook is in love with the wrong woman: the wife of a sadistic, abusive jerk. Maddox has worked more domestic abuse cases than he cares to count, but he takes one look at frightened Katlyn Harris and falls hard. But like a professional, he puts his feelings aside and relocates her to safety—or so he thinks.
Katlyn has lived in abject terror since her husband abducted her from what was supposed to be a secret location. Every day, she wonders if this will be the day Jeff finally kills her. She’s nearly given up hope of rescue, but when Jeff learns the cops are closing in, he hurries to move her. In the rush, she manages to escape and runs straight into the detective who has never stopped looking for her.
Love can be tricky when a cop falls for an abuse victim, trickier still when that cop is a Dom. Maddox can’t be Kat’s Dom. The abuse she’s suffered at her ex’s hand would not allow that sort of relationship, and Maddox doubts he could ever not be a Dom. Like being a cop, being a Dom is who he is, but Kat surprises him with her strength, her resilience, and her submissiveness. In her, he finds a depth of courage and passion he never expected. But will love be enough to save them against a past determined to destroy them?
This is book three in the Restrained Fantasies series but can be read as a standalone.
Publisher’s Note: This romance contains elements of danger, suspense, mystery, power exchange, abuse, mentions of prior assault, and adult language. If any of these offend you, please do not read.
Sir left her restrained to the door while he moved around the room, her heart a jackhammer against her sternum. He hadn’t been kidding. Thirty seconds after crossing the threshold, she’d been screaming her lungs out. If he was true to his word, and she had no doubt he would be, then she wasn’t sure she’d be able to speak tomorrow.
Or ever again.
She took a moment to take in her surroundings, and a smile tugged at her lips, one she swore she could feel to her soul. Blue was everywhere. On the king-sized bed to the left. Glowing above the half-dozen sconces around the room. Even some of the scarfs and other toys on a table beside the St. Andrew’s cross were blue.
He’d done this for her, his way of putting her at ease. She knew this level of coddling wouldn’t last indefinitely. The Dom in him wouldn’t allow it. She knew this because their scenes at home had been growing progressively more intense, and she loved it, just as she was sure she would love what he did to her here tonight.
By the time he returned to her, she’d regained control of her breathing. Mostly. She still felt a bit light-headed, but she was pretty sure that was the anticipation kicking in.
Sir didn’t speak as he unhooked her from the cuffs and positioned her in front of the St. Andrew’s cross. With practiced precision, he fastened her wrists and ankles to the four corners of the cross. He didn’t remove her top, her skirt, or her sandals. Instead, he pushed the skirt to her waist and unsnapped the crotch of the bodysuit.
When he’d finished, he took a step back and studied her. “Gorgeous. Both you and the outfit you chose.” He tugged on the left side of the material until he revealed her breast. “So perfect.”
Sir dipped his head and drew the nipple into his mouth. Unlike when he’d made her come, he wasn’t aggressive in his manipulations. He licked her slowly, thoroughly, indulgently, until her breast felt heavy and her chest tight with building need.
He repeated the same process on the other breast. When, at last, he pulled back, a feral grin decorated his handsome face. His was the expression of someone who knew a secret he didn’t intend on sharing. Before she could inquire, his hands snaked out, and he tweaked both her hard nipples.
She yelped, but the discomfort was there and gone in an instant, leaving a familiar heat in its wake, the kind that often came with flogging or spanking. Was that what he planned to do to her tonight? More importantly, did she want him to?
He’d been careful to keep from striking her thus far, but a flogger and a riding crop both lay on the table. She was getting better with being restrained. Was reintroducing a more physical aspect to scenes next on his agenda?
But he didn’t grab the flogger.
He grabbed the wand massager.
He thumbed the massager to low and proceeded to draw the soft tip over her right nipple, her left, and then over each again before slowly pushing it south. “I wonder how many orgasms you could withstand before you’re too exhausted to remain conscious. What do you think, kitten? Two more? Three?” That sexy grin returned. “Wanna find out?”
“I’d like that very much, Sir.”
“Perfect answer.” He swirled the vibrating tip around her navel. “My guess is four, but I’d love for you to prove me wrong and last eight.”
“Four, Sir?” She was already shaking her head. Eight would kill her.
He played the vibrating tip over her mons, so close to her sex that the vibrations teased her clit, but not in the way she wanted.
She wanted more.