The corners of his lips tip up in an arrogant smirk as he easily keeps my fists pinned to the bed. “Five years, Meredith. A little over five years to be exact.”

He gives my nipple one long stroke of his tongue then his head lifts, abandoning my breast.

He stares me down as my pulse starts to race. The implications of that confession fills me with cold panic. He could be lying, yes, but why the fuck would he lie about that? Why be so specific?

“Five years getting to know every little thing about you.”

I shake my head and again try desperately to jerk my hands free from his grip. If only I was bigger and stronger… If only I was a man, I’d kick his fucking ass.

He suddenly yanks my arms up, pinning both hands above my head. I arch my back and buck my hips, but his hips grind back into me, pushing me down. The pressure torturing my still throbbing sex.

“I know what breakfast you eat each morning after you’ve had a rough night…”

And… that would explain the breakfast he brought me this morning. Shit.

He looks over my head, his eyes searching for something.

“I know that when you sleep at night you always end up hugging a pillow tight to your chest.”

“Creepy fucker,” I mutter and his smirk sharpens. Of course he was watching me while I was sleeping.

His face lights up with pleasure and he reaches for something above me.

“I know of the game you’ve been playing, Meredith. I know that you’ve been preying on weak, foolish men…”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Does he know what I did to Ahmed? Was he somehow watching then too?

His fingers squeeze around my wrists and I glance up as he begins to wrap something soft around them. Dammit. Fucker found his tie.

“I am neither weak nor foolish,” he says as he wraps the silk around and around my hands, binding me.

“I know you never bed your prey. Which is a good thing, because then I’d have to kill them.”

The silk suddenly digs into my skin as he yanks hard on the tie to secure it in a knot.

He leans back, watching me as I attempt to wiggle and pull my hands free. I have to get out of here. He’s way fucking crazier than I ever thought…

He’s probably going to kill me after this and wear my skin or something.

“I know that you’re not due for your next period for fourteen more days. So it’s impossible to excuse your behavior as PMS.”

“Jesus Christ!” I exclaim and gape at him. He’s keeping track of my fucking menstrual cycle too? This is too fucking surreal to be real.

Satisfied that I can’t escape my binding, he sits back and begins to unbutton his shirt.

“Shall I go on?”

“Oh, please do… tell me everything about me,” I say sarcastically, but he must take it literally.

“I know your favorite color is black,” he says and his fingers move deftly down his buttons. Each one pushing through a hole as he states a fact he knows about me.

“I know your favorite song is Purple Rain. I know you were born in Saint Nicolas Hospital, and it was snowing that day. I know you lost your first tooth when you were six. You have a scar on your hip from when you fell off your bike while learning to ride it. You took a boy to prom who stepped on your toes all night. I know you would have graduated at the top of your class if you would have applied yourself better…”

“I guess you know me better than I know myself because I don’t remember any of that shit!” I snap, utterly flustered and frustrated.

Simon reaches the bottom button, quickly undoes it, and shrugs his shirt off. My eyes must have a will of their own because despite all the crazy stuff he’s spewing, they take a moment to admire all of his chest muscles.

Especially the way they flex with the tiniest of movements.

“Yes, I do believe I know you better than you know yourself. In fact, if you knew yourself as well as I know you, then you’d know that all you really need to reach your full potential in this life is…”

He reaches down and begins to undo his belt buckle and my eyes snap to his waist.

“A firm hand to guide you.”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, spare me.”

Simon yanks his belt out of his pants and my heart flutters with apprehension. Is he going to hit me now? Punish me?

“Is that really what you want, Meredith?” he says, gripping the belt in his hand. “Is that really what you need?”

Memories of last night rush through my head. Of being draped over his lap and completely at his mercy. The way his erection dug into my stomach… And his hands. His big, warm hands roaming over me, exploring me, squeezing me.