Page 131 of Safe Word

His chest moved rhythmically beneath my cheek, and I allowed my breathing to sync with his. It felt like lying underneath a storm that had finally quieted.

His hand was a steady weight on my hip, his thumb moving in slow circles as if still soothing something in me I had no name for. I stayed with curled into him, his breathing cradling me like a tide.

‘What happened tonight,’ he murmured finally, ‘wasn’t anger. It was structure.’

I blinked slowly, not moving, letting the sound of his words settle into me like heat. ‘You took control without asking. That’s not how this works.’

I opened my mouth to say something, but his thumb brushed over my lips to stop the words from coming.

‘Submission’s not theatre, Scarlett. It’s permission. And it’s power. But only if it’s earned.’

He shifted behind me, his heartbeat settling closer against my back. ‘When you’re mine…’ The word wracked through me, and my body embraced it wholly, my heart flipping inwards. ‘When you give me that role, you don’t just hand me your body. You surrender the frame around it. I decide when you’re touched. I decide when you’re denied. I decide when you’re finished.’

My skin pebbled beneath his hand. His voice alone felt like a shackle locking back into place, soothing.

‘There is no power struggle between us, Scarlett.’ He paused, just long enough for it to sink in. ‘You submit. Or you don’t. But if you do – truly – then I make the rules. And I enforce them.’

The tips of his fingers ran over my jawline.

‘You needed that tonight.’

I exhaled shakily..

He was right. I’d needed it, and I hadn’t even known how much until I was beneath him, begging.

I took his hand. He let me.

‘I need more,’ I whispered. And then I kissed each knuckle, then turned his palm and pressed my lips to its centre as if it were something sacred.

He was so still. Watching. Waiting.

His scent was intoxicating, his powerful frame breathtaking.

I turned his hand slowly, guiding his thumb to my mouth. Tilting to lay on my back, I looked up and met his gaze. My lips parted and took the tip in until the pad pressed against my tongue.

He rumbled, a low, dark sound that rolled through his chest and into mine. His hips pressed forward, grinding his thick length against my soaked centre.

I gasped at the friction.

Sucking gently, my tongue swirled in a wordless, wet, hungry request to appease my need. I dared not say it. Because then he wouldn’t give it.

Another rumble, deeper. His free hand tightened at my waist.

Then he pulled away.

I almost whimpered at the loss, but he was already standing, already walking to the duffel.

My heart started racing.

When he returned, I saw the silk in his hand. He straddled me, dipping until the fabric of his mask brushed the shell of my ear.

‘Lie back,’ he murmured. And though it was low and soft, it wasn’t a request.

I obeyed, allowing my back to sink into the mattress.

His weight was the cage I craved.

Carefully, methodically, he tied the silk over my mask and eyes. The darkness came instantly, blotting out the world and sharpening every other sense.