Page 143 of Locked in Wonderland

“Queenie and Henry are survivors. They’ll adapt.”

Another step.

“But they never adequately prepared their little darling for the real world, where people will say no to him.”

He stopped.

“I imagine prison will be an education, and I expect he’ll be a slow learner.”

This time, when Nico lunged for me, I was too slow.

A heartbeat later, I was flat on my back with him straddling my hips, both wrists pinned above my head.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said.

“Correct.” Typical Nico statement. “You’re not. Not until I’ve fucked you a few times.”

“A few times?” From anyone else, I’d have taken it as bravado. From Nico, it was simply a statement of intent.

He shifted his grip, trapping both my wrists in one hand while he reached across to the bedside table. I raised an eyebrow as he retrieved a pair of handcuffs and held them up for me to see.

He didn’t ask permission. He simply fastened one cuff around my left wrist, secured it to the headboard, then repeated the process with my right. Sitting back on his heels, he took a moment to admire his work.

“Just like old times,” I said. “What happens next? Do you turn off all the lights, invite twins to join us, and then film the entire thing?”

The corner of Nico’s mouth twitched. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“Good. I prefer it to just be us.”

His gaze drifted to the raven tattoo, fingertips tracing its outline with surprising care. “How many times have you regretted getting this?”

“Every time I arrived in another city and you weren’t there.” Nerves got the better of me as he tilted his head to study it. “Do you really like it?”

He answered with a nod. His hands were already on the waistband of my briefs, tugging them down my thighs and off. Once he had me naked, he stripped off his own underwear, his cock gloriously hard. Had my hands been free, I’d already have been touching him. The gleam in his eye said he knew exactly what I was thinking and didn’t give a damn.

There would always be a part of Nico that delighted in teasing and tormenting. I wasn’t sure how much of that was simply who he was, and how much his upbringing in Wonderland under Queenie and Henry’s influence had shaped him.

“Will you visit them?” I asked.

“Who?”

“Queenie and Henry.”

He looked at me as though I’d asked whether squirrels paid council tax.

“You obviously weren’t listening when I said I’d gotten wind of them making moves against me.”

“I was listening.” I held his gaze. “Only I doubt your relationship is that simple. They raised you in their own twisted way. Nobody would blame you for having conflicted feelings.”

For a moment, I couldn’t read his expression. Then he reached for the lube. “I’m obviously giving you too much time to think.” He upended the lube, making a show of spreading it along the length of his cock. Then he pulled my legs up, baring my hole to his gaze.

“I’d hold them for you,” I said, rattling the handcuffs. “Only…”

“I don’t need your help.” He settled my ankles over his shoulders. “And no,” he said as he moved closer and lined himself up, “I won’t be visiting them.”

A beat.

“Not to reminisce.”