Because You Are Mine Part VIII: Because I Am Yours Read Online Free

more.”
    It’d been too much for him. He’d already been slain by the news James had given him just after the attendants had carried away his raving mother, that Francesca was in the morning room . . .
    . . . that Francesca had witnessed everything that had happened.
    He experienced an untenable need to punish her for seeing not only his mother when she was so vulnerable, but himself. He’d spent a good portion of his life guarding Helen from prying, horrified gazes. Somehow, knowing Francesca had witnessed the full extent of his mother’s madness felt exponentially more painful than a stranger’s observance of it.
    He went over to the bureau and unlocked a cabinet. A jolt of excitement went though him when he saw her eyes widen as she stared at what he carried a moment later. “Yes. I keep only a few items here on the plane, and not the ones you’re used to. We’ll start with your punishment and then move onto other ways to make you squirm.”
    Her cheeks turned pink at that, but he couldn’t tell if her reaction was from arousal or anger at his words.
But he did want to see her squirm
, he thought as he picked up the black elastic flesh plumper. He wanted to see Francesca squirming in regret and undiluted lust; he wanted her to beg him through those pink lips that haunted his dreams . . .
    . . . he wanted to hear her say she loved him again.
    The thought was banished almost as quickly as he had it. He maneuvered a padded chest that sat at the end of the bed toward the center of the room.
    “Step into this,” he told her a few seconds later, approaching her, holding the elastic restraining strap. Standing this close, he could the smell clean, fruity fragrance of her shampoo. “Hold onto my shoulders to steady yourself.”
    “What is it?” He tried to ignore how soft but sure her grip felt through his dress shirt.
    “It’s a band that will bind your legs while I punish you, restricting you. It might be a little uncomfortable, but it will give me great pleasure.”
    “I don’t see how,” she said, her face grimacing as he stretched the black, five-inch-wide, circular elastic band, pulling it up until it rested just below her buttocks, binding her thighs tight and plumping her ass over the edge, displaying firm flesh for his hand and paddle. He reached out and molded a buttock in his palm. His cock jerked.
    “Now do you see?” he asked her pointedly, reluctantly letting go of her plumped ass. The elastic binder achieved the equivalent of what a bustier did for breasts, fully showcasing her ass, even as it bound her.
    “Ian!” she exclaimed in surprise when he suddenly lifted her into the air, carrying her toward the padded bench.
    “I have to carry you, with your legs bound,” he said, lowering her knees onto the cushion. “Stay on your knees for a moment. Don’t move.” When he returned, he carried a pair of handcuffs. Unlike the soft leather ones he typically used with her, given her sensitive skin, these were metal. “Wrists at your lower back,” he said. He frowned after he’d fastened her hands at her back. “I don’t want you struggling against those cuffs, Francesca. You might bruise yourself.”
    “O . . . Okay,” he heard her say. He met her stare, looking into dark, velvety orbs. A wild surge of something went through him—lust, raw need, anger—when he recognized what shone in her eyes.
    “Why do you look at me with so much trust?” he bit out.
    “Because I do trust you.”
    “You’re a fool.” He touched her elbow, guiding her. “Stay on your knees. Bend over. Expose your ass. Rest your breasts against your knees. Press your forehead to the cushion and keep it there throughout your punishment. Do
not
look at me, or I will punish you harder.” She truly was a nymph; her eyes possessed some kind of magic over him. If he looked into them enough, he’d soon start to believe in what he saw there shining like a steady, unwavering beacon.
    He went and got the