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He was on his feet, had spun her around toward him. With one loop and a shriek of metal, he had the slack of the chain wrapped around her throat. One hand held it taut, his other in her hair, holding her fast against his body.
He had her in mass and power, which was clear from the unshakable strength of the hold, his mouth a twisted slash beneath the blindfold.
The most dangerous situation involving a prisoner was when he invaded an officer's personal space like this, leaving very little maneuvering room to strike back.
"I said"--his voice wasn't steady--"let me go." His body twitched, which meant his fist did as well, twisting the links of chain on her throat. They bit into her flesh, pinching, and the blood vessels started to constrict.
He could kill her. The idea jumped from surreal to real in a heartbeat. She'd fucked up, not realizing how close to the top
she'd brought his darkness. Aftercare for him should have been her cutting a wide swathe around him, turning off the light and leaving him to lie here for about half an hour, working through a mass of emotions far blacker than a dark room. But she didn't want to leave him alone with that. She didn't want him alone in the dark.
"Duncan," she said, trying to ignore the break in her voice from restricted air flow. "You're hurting me. Scaring me some, too. Please let me go."
A split-second calculation and risk, which name to use. She didn't overthink it.
"Doesn't matter. It's over. Right?"
He didn't sound as if he was talking to her, but she answered anyway, forcing her fear at bay. It just fed devils; it wouldn't help her at all. "I don't know. I've never had a sub try to strangle me, so I don't have a protocol for it. I could try to knee you in the balls, but I think you're ready for violence." She swallowed and it was painful against the unrelenting steel links. "I think you'd rather lie down and let me curl around you, stroke your hair and hold you."
His lips became a straight line. "That's what you do to a child. I'm not a fucking child. I was never a fucking child. I want to fuck you. I'm tired of you holding it out of reach like a fucking carrot."
She realized his cock was starting to stir again, the violence fueling his arousal. "Bringing me to climax wasn't enough?" She softened her voice with the query, kept it calm. "You didn't like that?"
Something flickered over his expression, at least what she could see of it around the blindfold. "Yeah, I did. I wanted...to do that."
"Yes. And you did it. Honestly, purely, and with a hunger that took my breath away. The kind of sub any Mistress would want."
His grip hadn't increased, but it was tight enough. As her lungs tried to expand, she forced herself to take shallow breaths.
His lip curled. "Don't want to be any kind of sub, faceless...only faceless for you. But don't want you to care...want you to stay apart. Above me. Don't get down on the ground with me."
The words didn't make sense, but she thought she picked up enough of the underlying meaning that it heartened her. It was like he was trapped in worse-than-usual sub-drop, a post-session state of mind where a sub floundered in dark places, often thanks to triggers inadvertently tripped during the session.
"Then let me go." Carefully, she lifted her hand to his on the chain and lightly stroked his knuckles. Blood was pounding in her ears, but she pushed past the roar to move her hand to his nape, her other to his biceps, caressing. A soothing touch. "Right now."
Clamping down on his neck, she slammed her elbow into the side of his head, twisting her torso to knee him in his side. When he staggered, she shoved him back, breaking his hold. There was a terrifying yank on the chain that bit into her throat like a dog's teeth, but then he'd let go and it loosened. She ducked out of the loop and backpedaled out of his range.
He didn't pursue, though he looked as if he was about to blindly charge her. If he did, depending on how fast he came at her, he'd dislocate his shoulders when the chains went taut. Training kicked in and she was prepared to move forward, strike against his biceps with all her strength to shove him back again. The tactic could prevent him doing himself that kind of damage.
Though never mind what he'll do to you if he gets hold of you again, girlfriend.
"Prison guard." He breathed through the pain, bending over to brace his hands on his thighs. His breath was short from the shot to the midriff. The side of his face was red from the impact of her elbow. "Fucking forgot that."
"Correctional officer, and yeah, you did." She took a breath. "You got a little lost all the way around. You back?"
He shook his head, and dropped to his knees. "Stay away. Just leave me here. I'm sorry. Fucking sorry. That wasn't how I wanted that to go." His voice broke, startling her, but he'd turned away. As his fists clenched, every muscle in his back tensing, she reached for the wall, because another wave of lightheadedness hit her. This one came from the cold, hard realization of what could have happened. Her throat hurt. Those chain links were going to leave marks.
Don't be a fucking child right now. Be the woman and badass Mistress you know you are.
She went to her cabinet as he spoke dully. "I'll go. I won't bug you again. Tyler was right about me."
"Of course he was," she said briskly. "The man is right about everything. But what you're thinking he's right about is the wrong thing. Don't start with the self-pity crap or you'll piss me off worse. You tried to choke me. You fucked up. We'll deal with it."
He removed the blindfold. She saw a flashing, dangerous eye as he tilted his head her way, but there was desperation there, too. She quelled her gut reaction, which was still trying to get her to run far, far away from an imminent threat.
She tossed a new set of steel manacles on the floor in front of him with a sharp clank and thud. "Ankles."
They were combination locked, so once latched, the only way out was with the combination. She crossed her arms.
