Dirty boots rested on her grandmother’s white duvet, hands clasped behind his head as he lounged casually on her bed. He could have been a model, ru...gedly beautiful, brutally masculine, but she knew he was a demon. “Hey, Babe, you’re looking…” his eyes traveled down her shaking form, “allot slimmer than the last time I saw you.” His Lips tilted up a bit more as well as her bile. “How have you been?” He tilted his head, smile never reaching those savage eyes. “Missing me, wife?” Emily’s mind. ’ ‘O….okay’ ‘Excuse me?’ ‘Okay, sir.’ ‘Good girl.’ She lay down and he joined her. ‘Place your hands together above your head.’ She did so, looking intently at him the whole time, a little nervous. He wrapped one of the straps around her wrists and pulled her arms high over her head. He secured the strap to the frame of the futon. Sliding down the bed, he took two other straps in hand. ‘Spread your legs wide.’ She complied and he bent them by the knees, bringing them up on either side of her. More

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