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A shiver runs down my back with my hair tickling along my shoulders. Every little touch feels heightened knowing I’ll be bound and blindfolded.
The apprehension is an aphrodisiac.
“What should I call you?”
Zander’s brow arches. “Like when we’re in here … when we’re …” A long exhale leaves me, my chest rising and falling with the newly found heat.
“You call me Z,” he answers easily. Although I’m well aware he’s toying with me.
“That’s just a nickname.”
“Like ‘my little jailbird,’” he comments affectionately. He wears a simple smile yet somehow, there’s pride hidden within it.
“I really—” I start to say love. I was going to say love it when he calls me that. Little bird was cute. Jailbird, though … I love it when he calls me that. Swallowing down my admission, I clarify, “I mean, should I call you Sir when we’re in a scene … or something else?”
James like it when I called him Sir. And I loved it. I loved being in a room with him, knowing he could do whatever he wanted and that by the end of the night we’d both be sated and even more in love with each other than we were the day before.
“Two things. The first is that we will always be in scene. There isn’t a moment where I will hesitate to reward or punish you. Is that understood?”
“Yes.” The word rushes out of me with more want than I previously knew existed.
“Second. I’ve barely touched you, Ella. I only just tasted you last night. Honorifics like Master and Sir are earned. It means something more than … the name of an avatar in a game. It’s like a collar.”
“How do you earn it?”
“A collar or an honorific?” he questions, the devilish look in his eye turning me on even more.
“We can consider it when you don’t hesitate to tell me what’s on your mind. When you trust that if I’m asking you a question, it’s because I want nothing but the truth. That my opinion of you and our relationship will remain as it is regardless of what you tell me. That I’ll protect you from all things, including all that insecurity, all that fear, everything and anything that could keep you from being content.”
All I can do is whisper, “So serious.” His thumb graces my lower lip, trailing along it until I part my lips as Zander slips the tip of his thumb into my mouth. His pointer curls under my chin and he tilts my head up, staring deep into my eyes.
“That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble,” he warns. Then he informs me, “We’re only getting started, Ella. I have yet to break you in and toy with you.” A wicked grin plays along his handsome face. My heart pounds harder as he drops his grip and brushes the hair from my face. “You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to breaking you in.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, but even more heat pools in my core. Longing for him to touch me there. No, needing him there.
My desperation urges a soft sound from my lips. It’s not quite a moan, and merely an audible exhale. Without breaking my gaze, Zander groans deep in his chest, “The fucking sounds you make…” With a gruff sound he turns away from me, tossing the duffle bag with more force than necessary to the floor. It doesn’t escape me that there is more in it, but I’m not given a moment to question what it could be.
Instead, Z commands me, “Get on the bed, I’m ready to play with you.”
Zander
Ready to play is an understatement. I’m rock hard, my adrenaline pounding, ready. Ella is so fucking beautiful with her cheeks flushed like that. So willing. So submissive. I want her under more of my control. I want all of her.
We’ll take it slow so she learns what she’s agreed to. It hasn’t escaped me that she compares what she had before to what we’re doing now, and there’s no chance in hell that James knew what the fuck he was doing. They toyed around with the idea of submission. I have every intention of training her to be my submissive.
It’s essential that I don’t dive in too deep with her too fast, though I want to. God, I want to. Every inch of me craves every inch of her with a physical longing.
Four-count breaths. Four of them. Trailing along the edge of each of the additional toys I bought just for her, I control everything. I have to be in control of myself before I can be in control of her. I have to stay in control of myself, damn it.
She perches on her knees on the edge of the bed, her nightgown a silk puddle next to her. I approach her slowly so she has time to take me in. To see how I rise above her. How much stronger. How much restraint I have. That’s an easy one. Instead of pushing her back on the bed and abandoning myself to her, I run my fingers through her hair and arrange it over her bare shoulders. The shudder that runs down her teased skin travels lower and hardens her nipples. I’m careful with every touch, and Ella responds to it, her large dark eyes on mine. She trembles under my hand.
