Nico pressed his chest forward, caging me between him and the wall with his hands planted firmly on either side of me. “I’m talking about this beautiful body of yours.” He eased in, placing sensual kisses down the column of my neck.

My head rolled to the side, unable to reject the delicious sensation of his touch. As his hands came up between us and massaged my breasts, a wanton moan escaped my lips. “Nico…” A breathless plea, but for more or to stop, I wasn’t sure.

Suddenly, he lifted me, then turned to lay my back on the tile floor with his body stretched over mine. He kissed me long and hard until I was drunk on the taste of him, only breaking free of the fog when he lifted my shirt up over my head. He stretched my arms above me, wrapping my shirt around my wrists, then leaned in to kiss me again. When I made to pull my hands back down, I discovered he had used the strings on one of my aprons to secure my wrists together.

“What are you doing?”

“Shhhh, just trust me,” he soothed, tugging at my wrists again.

I reluctantly allowed him to place my hands far above my head, only to realize he was tying them to the heavy wooden leg of my supply table.

Before I could argue, it was too late. My wrists were bound, and he was lowering to kiss my neck and chest. His hands tugged at my sweatpants, which gave easily, as they had only been held up by a loose drawstring.

“Nico, my parents! We can’t do this in here,” I whisper-yelled, starting to panic.

“Your parents went into the city until late tonight. No one’s here but you and me.” He sat back on his heels, admiring my prone form before him. “I should spank your ass for running from me.”

My core practically dripped with moisture at his words. I’d never been interested in BDSM or kink, but something about Nico made everything sound good.

“My girl likes that, does she? I’ll remember that. These nipples pebbled up so tight, they look like little pink candies I want to suck on all night long.” His eyes lifted for a second before he rose to his feet.

A sliver of fear trickled down my spine. He wouldn’t leave me like this as punishment, would he?

Before I went too far with that train of thought, he made a quick trip to my bookshelf and returned to my side. I had several strings hung in the room where I clipped inspiration photos. In his hand were some of the tiny clothespins I used to hang the pictures. He straddled my waist, and I watched in an intoxicating mix of trepidation and desire as he clipped one of the pins onto my nipple.

I gasped, arching at the intense sensation. It was fascinating—not entirely pleasure or pain, but a heady mix of both. He secured a second clip onto my other nipple, then tied a lose string between them. When he gave a gentle tug, it ignited sensation in both breasts at the same time. My mind felt like it might fracture. “Oh, Jesus, Nico …”