Page 204 of The ARC Unit: Breach

He cut the center of my bra in one sure stroke. The cups fell aside, and my breasts spilled free, nipples tightening immediately in the cool air.

“Perfect.” His finger traced the edge of one nipple, barely touching. “Every single inch of you, Mercer.”

The knife was placed back in its sheath on his belt. He let his gaze travel over my body with the same intensity he had used on my face during the argument, cataloging the swell of my tits, the dip of my waist, the puffed lips of my cunt already parting with arousal.

“Arms up.”

I hesitantly raised them above my head, determined not to make him tell me twice. Wolf caught my wrists, crossed them together, then wound the webbing around them before feeding the loose end beneath the desk and cinching it tight around the steel support bar mounted under the desktop.

The restraint pulled my arms forward and held them there, leaving almost no room to shift without feeling the webbing tighten.

“Comfortable?”

I tested the bonds. “Yes.”

Wolf pulled open the shallow drawer beside the desk and took out a folded strip of black fabric. It looked like something he kept with the rest of his gear, plain and soft enough that I understood what he planned to do with it before he even stepped closer.

“What are you doing?” I still asked.

He didn’t answer.

“Wolf.”

His fingers caught the fabric at either end and folded it once before covering my eyes.

“Hold still.”

I started to turn my head, but he was already tying it behind me, the knot settling beneath my hair until the office disappeared completely.

“Wolf-”

“Quiet.”

The lack of sight made everything else sharpen. His boots moved somewhere beside the desk. I could hear my own breathing and the faint creak of my restraints moving when he leaned over me.

Then I heard the slow scrape of fabric being pulled over skin, quiet enough that I might have missed it if I had not already learned enough of his sounds to recognize exactly what he was doing.

His mask was coming off.

“Don’t even fucking think about looking.”

Without the fabric covering his mouth, his voice reached me differently, rougher and clearer, and so close to my ear that my breath caught before I could control it.

I turned toward him on instinct, barely moving my head before his hand closed around my jaw and forced it back against the desk.

“I said don’t.”

His grip tightened just enough to make the order unmistakable.

“Keep your fucking head where I put it, Mercer.”

Heat crawled through me as I went still beneath his hand. Every stupid part of me wanted to turn toward him anyway, to find his face in the dark, to learn the shape of his jaw beneath the scar or feel the mouth I had spent so long thinking about. I was painfully aware that there was nothing between us now except the strip of fabric covering my eyes.

Wolf seemed to know exactly where my thoughts had gone.

His thumb pressed into my jaw.

“Whatever the fuck you’re thinking about doing, don’t.”