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“Choose,” he whispers, and it’s another way he’s giving me an out, but is it really a choice? He knows what his commands do to me. Is this another way for him to force my hand?
My choices are obeying or using my safeword.
But it isn’t that simple.
Obeying means giving in to him and accepting that I’ll listen to him explain why he kept the box and the multitude of other things that have ripped my trust away. Whispering zero-day is telling him I won’t listen, and it’s that fear, knowing that he will leave me like I ask and never reach out for me again that makes my decision.
He steps back when my fingers begin to slide the buttons of my blouse free. Chills race down my spine with eagerness and at the loss of his warmth. I don’t feel as overwhelmed, and honestly, I hate the feeling. I want him near. I want him commanding me, forcing my hand, giving me permission to obey when doing so scares the daylights out of me.
Even though I know how this night is going to end, I continue to strip down to my skin. There’s no doubt I’ll be broken when he’s done, covered in his cum and panting from my own release, and don’t I deserve that? Sex and emotion can be separated. I think of the woman on the platform in the main room. She had, at my last count, five men inside some part of her body, and she only looked to one with love in her eyes. She’s able to differentiate the two, and I’m determined to do that same thing.
“On the bed,” he commands the second my body is free of clothing.
I move, my eyes staying downcast. I can obey without giving him the satisfaction of my full attention.
“On your back. Spread eagle for me.”
My legs go to the corners, as do my arms over my head, but I turn my head in the direction opposite of him, thankful for the curtains blocking the windows. Not only do they block others from seeing us, but they prevent me from having to look in his direction.
Gentle hands run down the length of my legs, and I squeeze my eyes closed when the sound of leather and metal echo around the room. I didn’t see the cuffs in the corners, but I’m not surprised. This is a BDSM club after all. I’m sure this room has a dozen more hidden toys for kink.
I don’t kick out at him or tell him to stop. I don’t open my mouth to say my safeword because I don’t want to stop. Not only am I determined to get the full story, but not once has this man made me feel unsafe. I knew I was full of shit when I told Sarah I thought he was a psycho who hurt women.
Even when he “abducted” me he was gentle, using soft cuffs to prevent marks and lowering me gently into the backseat of his rental car even though I had a hood over my head.
He’s not going to hurt me physically, but it’s my heart that’s on the chopping block right now.
His hands trail over my skin, completely bypassing my center as he moves his fingers down to latch the second cuff.
Once my feet are secure, I feel, rather than see him move to my arms. A slow finger dips between my breasts, and my traitorous nipples harden at the sensation. He doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t tease me for being unable to control my body, and that’s infuriating.
With one hand secure, he moves to the other, only speaking after all four restraints are in place.
His breath is on my neck, soft lips brushing against my racing pulse, then his fingers are on my chin. The very first sight of him ruins me because I’m too enraptured by him already to look away.
After the softest brush against my lips, a promise of what’s to come, he pulls back, using his free hand to brush hair from my face.
“Let me start by telling you that I love you.”
“Please don’t,” I whimper.
The emotional agony is harsher than if he were to strike my cheek with a heavy hand.
He doesn’t listen to me. He doesn’t stop even as my pain rolls in rivulets down the side of my face.
“I think I’ve loved you since long before I heard your voice the first time.”
My throat works, trying to swallow down the sob threatening to escape.
“I didn’t even look at the label on that box when I picked it up from the front desk. I had Puff with me, and with Adrian gone and the new girl blinking up at me, I just had to get away as quickly as I could.” Soft fingers trail down my arm, making me jerk from the tickling sensation. “I even forgot it in the car and had to go back and get it. When I opened the box in the breakroom, it wasn’t the speakers I’d been waiting two weeks to get. In front of nearly every single man that works for BBS, I opened a box filled with sex toys.”
