The next eight or nine hours are torture. I desperately want to know what’s in the box, because I know it’s something that I’ll like and shouldn’t.

But I don’t open it, because I don’t want to disobey Julian. Even if he wouldn’t know, I get a strange, deep thrill of satisfaction when I do as he says. It sets something humming deep inside me, something I never imagined could be so… satisfying.

Being trapped and kept is strange. Usually I’d be at the shop by now, tidying up, making sure everything is in order, running through the day’s calendar, all those tasks that a successful business requires.

I’ve got nothing to do here, though. I don’t even have proper clothes — not even a bra or panties, just this black silk robe, and I’m sure that’s not an accident. Every time I move it brushes softly against my skin, my body heat warming it instantly, the movement surprisingly erotic even if I’m just curling onto the couch with a book.

And thinking about Julian, tearing it off of me. Tying my hands over my head to one of the huge posts on his bed and ravaging my body before taking me again, hard and unprotected like he did last night.

Like I’ve never done before, with nothing at all between us. My nipples stiffen even more at the thought that he could get me pregnant, that I’d carry his child for nine months, his mark on me utterly indelible.

But then I clear my throat and shake my head. I’m always hearing that it’s harder than I think to get pregnant, and I’m sure I’ve got nothing to worry about.

* * *

Late that afternoon, I’m sitting on my own bed, nearly nauseous with anxiety because no matter how aroused and excited I am, no matter how much I can’t wait for Julian to come through that door and see what I’m wearing, it makes me nervous.

What if it’s not him?

What if he’s changed his mind?

What if this is some kind of elaborate joke and it gets out that the prim, proper bookstore owner let the prince treat her this way?

I’d never sell another book…

There’s a key in the lock.

I hold my breath.

The door creaks open, and I stand. The door closes, and I can hear Julian putting his things down.

“Belle?” he calls.

I take a deep breath, pull open the door to my own room, and walk out.

The moment I see him the tension all vanishes with the hungry look in his eyes. In seconds, I can see his cock inflate, and I squeeze my fingernails into my palms with excitement, remembering last night and the pleasures it brought.

“Come here,” he growls.

I walk across the room to him, my new outfit weighing strangely on my body even though I’m wearing nearly nothing, just nipple clamps chained together, a tiny thong that may as well not be there, and leather cuffs on my wrists and ankles.

The cuffs clank quietly as I walk, the metal rings on them making a soft sound against the leather. The chain on my nipple clamps sways, tugging on both nipples at once, sending a shiver down my back.

I’m so exposed, so vulnerable.

I don’t know what I’m in for. I’ve got an idea, of course, an idea that makes me shudder and tremble, already soaking through the tiny mesh thong that’s barely there.

Julian doesn’t say anything, but he slowly traces one finger from my jawline to my neck, past the hollow of my throat, between my breasts, until he reaches the chain dangling between them.

He hooks his finger around it and gives it a slight tug, not hard enough to move the clamps but hard enough to make me gasp, my eyes seeking his as my fists clench into balls, the sharp sensation sending a wave of pleasure through my body.

“You’ve never done this before,” he says, giving it another slight tug.

I have to close my eyes, bite my lip, inhale before I can answer.

“No, sir,” I finally whisper.

His finger moves down my body, straight over my bellybutton, until he dips his whole hand into my tiny thong, fingers spreading my lips apart.

I stand there, unmoving, pulse racing as I pant for breath. I’m slipping quickly into subspace, into the place I go where all I want is to please Julian, to let him use me, where the most intense pleasure I can possibly get comes from making him feel good.

I’ll move when he tells me.

Everything for him.

He drags a finger through my wetness, a moan escaping my lips, but it’s short-lived because he brings his hand from my wet panties and holds his finger up to my mouth.

I close my lips around his finger and taste myself instantly, moaning as I suck my own juices from him, tongue swirling around the tip as I relish my own salty-sweet taste.

“You like tasting yourself, my dirty little girl?” he murmurs.

I just meet his eyes and nod, tongue lavishing over his finger. He makes me feel wild and wanton, and right now I’d let him do anything to me.

God, I even want him to.

“Turn around,” he murmurs, his voice still quiet, barely over a growl.

I do it instantly, realizing that we’re now facing a mirror. I’m standing in front of him, fully clothed in a three-piece suit while I’m wearing nearly nothing. He’s so tall that I don’t even come up to his chin, and his broad body is much wider than mine.

Julian anchors one hand in my hair, pulling my head to one side while his other hand explores my body, his thick, calloused fingers exploring me inch by inch while he watches in the mirror.

“You’re so beautiful, Belle,” he whispers in my ear, sliding his hand possessively over my ass, one finger between my buttocks, sliding right over my puckered back hole in a way that makes me gasp and shudder.

“I can’t wait to ruin you.”

He says that with a final jerk to my hair, pulling my head backward, and he captures my mouth in a savage kiss, exploring me with his tongue.

I wrap one hand around his neck, feeling his speeding pulse there, his other hand possessively wandering my body, pressing my hips back against his enormous, still-clothed erection, grinding our bodies together until I nearly cry out with anticipation.

Finally, he releases me, hand still in my hair, pausing for a long moment. Then he lets me go, hooks a finger under the waistband of my thong, snaps it against my skin.

“Walk into my bedroom,” he commands me.

I do it, body pulsing and aching with desire, pussy swollen with anticipation of the moment he’ll push me down on the bed and fuck me with that beautiful cock, the only thing I’ve really been able to think about for the last day.

But the moment we’re inside the door and I’m looking at the bed, he speaks again, still right behind me.

“Pull out the copy of Justine from the shelf,” he growls, his voice so close it’s practically vibrating through my body.

I find the thick title, grab the book, and try to pull it out but it seems stuck and only the top comes.

I frown, tugging at it harder, but then there’s a click and the whole bookshelf moves.

I gasp, jumping back into Julian’s hard body, the wool of his suit rough against my skin.

He just chuckles as the bookshelf swings open, revealing what’s behind it.

Holy shit.