Her stomach quivered, dissapointment chasing through her swiftly followed by a surge of adrenaline. “Then you're letting me go. No hard feelings?”
“Hardly.”
The police. She swallowed and lifted herself onto her knees. What was more worrying, being arrested or watching her fantasy fade away? Arrested, her mind screamed, remember the mission. Her pussy had another idea entirely.
“Sebastian.” She prowled to the edge of the bed, doing her very best to look alluring. The situation could still be salvaged. Seduction and if not...she eyed the large lamp on the bedside cabinet.
“Kleftisa.” He smiled, though it held that same hint of steel, reached up again, and finally undid the tie.
Excitement returned accompanied by relief. Whatever it takes.
He leaned forward, pushing her back onto the bed so that she lay flat. His big body hovered over her, his musky scent teasing her nostrils. Arousal swamped her and her nipples hardened all over again.
“Only you,” he whispered again and then before Penny could even think to sigh he lifted her arms, just as he had in the hall, right above her head. She allowed it, arching her back until...something was wrapping around them. The fucking tie!
Chapter Eight
She shrieked and bucked, just as he knew she would, her fantastic legs scrambling on the bed, around him, over him, her back arching and flattening. It did her no good. Knowing full well how sly she could probably be Sebastian held her in place, securing the silk to the the iron bed frame.
“You bastard! Let me go!”
“Language, Kleftisa,” he chided.
“I'll give you language,” she spat. “You do not tie me up without my permission.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And do you give your permission often?”
She glared. “Only on very special occasions.”
“Well we'll count this as one.” She was still wiggling and he eyed the situation carefully before heading to his dresser where he grabbed two more ties.
“Don't you dare,” she hissed.
“You broke into my home,” he replied. “I think we're long past the point of daring.” He went to grab one ankle and narrowly missed being kicked in the face. “Are you trying to add an assault charge to you list of offences too?”
“You assaulted me," she screeched. “I’ll have the bruise to prove it and this is abduction.”
Sebastian couldn't help but laugh as he wrapped a tie around each trim ankle. “It's merely me securing you until I decide what to do.”
He dragged each leg to the corner of the bed and tied them to the posts before stepping back. She was furious, her cat's eyes spitting fire, her fists clenched around the bindings and she looked.... He swallowed unsteadily. She looked magnificent. Her legs open and inviting, her tits heaving. He wanted nothing more than to rip off her bodysuit and bury his head in her pussy. He didn't. Self control came at last, a thin thread but enough. “I'll see you later.”
She gaped. “You're not leaving me here?”
“Just for the moment. Be a good girl until I return.”
“You b—” The door closed muffling, her words.
Sebastian took a deep, and much needed, breath, dragging a hand through his overlong hair as he did so. Just an hour ago he sat in his car, bored, wondering how to fill his time and now... He shook his head. A thief was tied up in his room and she might well be the most attractive woman he'd ever met.
Absently he palmed his cock. It was still hard, still desperate to slide into her wetness. It would be so easy to turn back around and have her. She wanted him, too. He knew it. Oh no doubt she had some sneaky plan in mind, but he'd felt her nipples harden, saw the flush of desire in her eyes. It would be so easy to just let it happen. Giving himself a mental shake, he turned away from the door and made his way down the stairs, his mind a whirr of thoughts of what he should be doing versus what he wanted to be doing.
He pulled out his Blackberry and dialed through to his security head. “Max, wherever you are get back to the house pronto and meet me in the kitchen.”
And then, because it was quite possible she was lying, Sebastian checked every single room in his home, all twenty seven of them. They were empty. The thief had been truthful and that disturbed him. He was not a sexist man, but the thought of a female burglarizing his home alone just did not sit right.
Her bag. It was lying on the floor and he picked it up as he walked towards the kitchen, frowning at the heavy weight. Turning it over in his hands he could see it was made to tie aroud her waist, clipping shut at the back.
He waited until he was sat at the kitchen table with a glass of whisky in front of him—because God knew he needed it—before unzipping the bag. Oddly the zipper made no sound as he did. Interesting. The cash was the first thing he saw. Two sealed bags of notes, British pounds. He lifted them and knew they were hundred grand bundles vacuum pressed for ease of movement. He kept ten of them in his upstairs safe because Sebastian was a cautious man and the banks were sly bastards. It was important to have readily accessible cash. Just in case.