How to Discipline Your Vampire(122)

            After a few minutes of watching him squirm around on our bed and swear—which is always hysterical, considering what a tight-ass he can be about the English language—I told him:

            “Werewolf-hair rope,” I said triumphantly.

            His eyes bugged, and his eyebrows shot toward his hairline. “What?” he asked.

            I nodded, still smirking. “I thought back to your journals,” I said slowly, pacing the room, enjoying each moment of his distress. “You mentioned a really strict vampire Domme named Laine. I had Breanna get her number, and I gave her a call.”

            Again, priceless face. Good thing I was recording the entire honeymoon. Some people record their weddings from start to finish. Why waste all the good honeymoon sex?

            “Laine gave me a lot of tips,” I crooned, approaching William slyly, bending toward his bound form and stroking the ropes on his wrists with my finger. “Including where I could buy some . . . interesting props.”

            He shook his head in amazement. “You never cease to inspire me, Mistress,” he said, now reveling in his restrained position. “I hope you bought a lot of the stuff.”

            I smiled. “A lot of werewolves are running around hairless because of my purchases,” I said, and proceeded to completely anchor my loving husband to the bed.

            He wiggled; he writhed. He pulled, tugged, and even bit at the ropes with his teeth.

            “Just imagine how difficult this is all going to be once you change me. Now, now, love, do you really want to get out so badly?”

            He shook his head no.

            “Then why are you trying so hard?”

            He shrugged as much as the ropes allowed. “Curiosity.”

            “Oh, my husband, I’ll satisfy every curiosity you have in that gorgeous body of yours.” I slipped off my robe and put on my wedding heels.

            He tossed his head back rapturously. “Good thing we have eternity . . . Mistress.”