Malakai’s voice was low, firm, and left zero room for disobedience. My heart hammered wildly as I slowly moved my hands behind me, pressing my wrists together above the curve of my ass. The cool night air brushed against my skin, making me tremble. I was painfully aware of how exposed and vulnerable I felt — bent over the hood of my own car, short skirt riding up, thin tank top doing nothing to hide my hard nipples.

The metallic click of the handcuffs echoed in the quiet night like a gunshot. Cold steel closed around my wrists, locking them securely behind my back. I instinctively tugged at them, the...