Page 8 of His Talisman

He grunted and shrugged, making his crisp shirt fold and slip across his chest, reminding me he had a male body under there.

“Well, you are.”

“You like spanking and light domination.”

The heat of a blush rushed over my face. Him knowing about my smutty books was somehow less embarrassing than this, and I’d been to BDSM clubs. “So what? I’m not sure I’m sane to be thinking about doing…this.” Did he want a sex slave?

“I’m probably insane to be offering.”

So we were both crazy.

My head was in chaos trying to maneuver between what was wise, my libido, my need to be free, and who knew what else.

“You begged me. That part I liked.” I watched and didn’t edge away as he pushed his bench-leaning arm nearer and raised his hand to gently run his fingers along my jaw. Then his thumb found the corner of my lips and stayed there.

Fuck.

Squirming or closing my eyes would be a dead giveaway, as would fucking licking him, and I desperately wanted to do that. I made myself be still. The warmth running up my spine…it was nice. Panty-melting nice.

His voice was steady. “You are used to my examinations.” His thumb revolved on that small but sensitive part of my mouth. “So this is my test for you. Lie back, pull off your panties, and open your legs to me here, and you can come home with me, today.”

I flinched away. “What? No! The gardener is here!” My horrified tone was obvious.

I sneaked a look, and the man had clearly heard something. He was standing, leaning on a rake, watching us. Or watching me. Amusement broadened his smile to a grin.

I shook my head and mouthedno, while also pleading with my eyebrows. “I can’t.” I should have said,not ever. Never ever in a million years.

“No? Okay.” Businesslike, he stood and dusted off his pants. “In a month, I’ll return. I’ll get them to allow you out here, under supervision. I prefer not to blackmail you into this. You have to go back to your room now.”

“Oh?” What the fuck was this if not blackmail? “Wait…”

“Yes?”

I was mortified at myself, at what I was going to say. “What about if I do it in there. Inside the building.”

His eyes narrowed. “Is that ayes, no matter what else I do?”

I blinked wildly. “What does that mean?”

“Trust me.” He smiled, and I sensed the devil in him—there was a sinister, if mischievous, aim to whatever he was doing here. Preparing me for his needs?

“You want an explicit yes?”

The doctor nodded. “Unequivocal consent.”

“Five weeks ago…” Saying a number might be telling him I’d lost track of time, but that was the least mindfuck in this situation. “…or thereabouts, I was raped.” I wasn’t sure what else to add.

“Yes, and you are safe here, if bored. And I need consent for my game, but…and this is a very largebut, my game is twisted and dark. I need assent. Even if you come with me, if you find it too much, I will return you to this place.”

Blackmail? I frowned. Or was it a version of consensual non-consent?

I opened my mouth and found my next word stuck in my throat.

Saying either yes or no was like nailing shut a coffin, like leaping off a high diving board into unknown waters. Choose one. Choose wisely. I heaved out a breath and thought.

“I will say, yes.”

“You’re certain?”

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