Page 33 of Yours on the Canvas

I start to move to the bed, but stop dead when his voice hits me from behind.

“Don’t move.”

I feel the second my body responds to his voice. That voice. He knows I need this tonight, and I didn’t even say anything. His voice is like a physical caress, as the edges of my world start to soften, my muscles loosen, and my thoughts quiet, and a small grateful smile pulls at my lips.

Tonight, I’m his.

I turn, and my breath catches as he approaches. He’s shed his shirt, the button of his jeans popped, the ink covering his skin stark under the low light. His piercings catch my eye, the small hoops hanging from each nipple.

My tongue flicks across my bottom lip as I drink him in. His presence alone fills the room, and I feel my body settle under him. My breathing stutters, not so much from desire, but from the sheer relief of having him nearby.

But then I see something in his hand, and my breath stops in my throat.

“Only if you want to, dove,” he says softly.

A red vibrator, handcuffs and black silk hangs loosely from his fingers. My pulse jumps. I know he will stop the second I safe word. And with everything that I’m feeling tonight, I know he’s offering me a way to let go.

So, I take a leap, I nod.

“Good boy.”

The words land like a jolt, a sharp static buzz snapping through my skin. It races through every nerve, locking my muscles in place and stealing the air from my lungs and heads straight to my cock.

He walks toward me, his voice low. “Keep your eyes forward, boy.” A single finger trails over my hand—feather-light, deliberate, as he moves past.

His body is a warm pressure at my back, and when I feel his lips brush the nape of my neck, a ripple of need races through my body, and I whimper at the touch.

He lifts the silk, letting it whisper against my skin. I pull in a sharp breath and start to move my head, but his gentle “Shh” stops me.

He lifts it over my eyes, soft and cool and I take one last look at the room before everything disappears behind black silk.

“I’m going to touch you, Jack. I’m going to remove each piece of clothing, and when I’m done, you will stand where you are until I tell you to move. Do you understand?” His voice is soft and quiet, yet unmistakably commanding. Warm breath brushes my skin, and a ripple of goosebumps rises across my skin in response.

I nod, swallowing hard as a heavy, electric ache settles deep in my stomach. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy.”

I feel him shift to stand in front of me, his fingers brushing the hem of my shirt. My body flinches automatically at the the first touch, heat rushing to my cheeks in a sudden vulnerability.

“Sshh. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Silas speaks so gently it almost breaks me. His voice is low, soothing me the way you’d calm a frightened child.

I let my mind go entirely, surrendering control as the material lifts, sliding up my skin, over my face, and off my head until if falls away somewhere in the quiet room.

He steps in behind me, close enough that his weight presses lightly against my spine. The cool bite of his nipple rings contrasts sharply with the heat radiating off his skin as his hands settle heavily on my arms.

He takes one elbow, his fingertips running a feather light touch down to my hand. A soft kiss lands on my shoulder, a reward, and I hear the clink of the first cuff. He repeats the same with my other arm, never rushing.

All the while, Silas keeps talking. His voice wraps around me in a stream of quiet reassurance, cutting through the white noise in my head and pulling me down into a place where I know, that I am safe and cared for.

I hand the control to Silas, letting myself fall into the space he creates for me. Everything disappears, and I feel a profound peace as I wait there, blindfolded and half exposed to him, my chest heaving with every breath as he whispers against my skin, pressing kisses so light they seal his every word straight into my flesh.

And, finally, I am steady.

And I wait, wrapped in steel and silk.

8