Page 97 of Bratva Menace

“Head up.”

What the fuck is this feeling I get every time she orders me around?

I tilted my head toward the ceiling. She fastened it around my throat, and I had to suppress a groan at how good the weight felt around my neck.

Her honey-colored eyes lit up with appreciation. She took a moment, just standing there, admiring me.

“God, I can barely contain myself around you,” Lyla breathed out, her fingers dancing along my skin. “Take the robe off.”

I did as she ordered, the fabric slipping from my body to pool on the floor around me. There was a metal ring on the front of the collar. She clicked the snap hook of the leash onto it, wrapped it around her fist, and tugged slightly. Blyad, fuck. My head swam, every ounce of me begging for her touch. It was hard to keep my hands off Lyla.

“Stand,” she commanded huskily.

My legs shook as I got to my feet.

“Come.” Spine straight, head held high, she turned and marched out of the room, me following behind her like a good little dog.

I wanted to be good for her. I wanted to please her. Because pleasing her pleased me.

Her heels click-clacked along the hardwood floor as she walked, echoing throughout the quiet home. My eyes were glued to her ass the entire time, so many dirty and kinky thoughts running through my mind.

What does she have planned?

What is she going to do to me?

What do I want her to do to me?

She led me up the stairs and straight to one of the rooms on the left side of the house. I’d done a thorough walkthrough my first few days there. I knew what was in every single room of the house except that one—it was the only room that was locked.

The jingle of a set of keys hit the air. Anticipation bubbled up inside me. It must have been something good if she kept it locked. I secretly hoped it was some kind of dirty sex room. Or maybe it was a weapons room, filled with all different kinds of knives and guns. I wasn’t opposed to a little bit of knife play.

“Is this your sex dungeon?” I asked, only mildly joking.

Lyla looked over her shoulder as she placed a black key into the keyhole. “Would it freak you out if I said yes?”

“No. It would excite me.”

“Then it’s my sex dungeon.” She unlocked the door and opened it, pulling me inside. Darkness enveloped me, and I froze, waiting for the lights to come on.

They didn’t.

“Lyla?”

“Huntress,” she whispered suddenly from behind me, right in my ear.

Goose bumps shivered over my skin. “Huntress,” I amended.

“Good.” A soft, featherlight touch danced down my back, stopping just before my ass. “You ever been taken here?”

I shook my head. The collar pulled taut, and my head snapped back. I groaned at the suddenness of it. The harshness of it. I wanted more.

“I told you before, I want to hear you speak when I ask a question. Have you ever had your ass fucked?”

“No,” I panted.

“Is it a red line?”

“Red line?” I questioned, unsure what she was asking.