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His hot breath lashes the side of my face. “I’m going to push those soft limits you told me about. And push… And push… until I get the pleasure and compliance I need from your eager little body.”
“Greyson,” I breathe, knowing he likes me using his full name when he’s in Dom mode.
“There are days when we’ll make love. And there are other days when my desire for you renders me uncivilized. And those days, I require you to submit to me. Those nights, I want you to be my compliant little whore.”
Fuck…
“Tonight is one of those nights, Indigo. And because I require a lot from you, I’m going to give you a minute to leave my room. No consequences.”
He shifts his weight, standing straight up so that I can see his face as I peer over my right shoulder. He stares down at me, unmoving but for the tensing of his muscles as I contemplate defying my wickedly aroused body and walking out. Only I want him like this. Raw, wild and uncivilized. I want to experience the pleasure of submission again, even if it's at the hands of the beast that sometimes comes out to play.
“If I stay, I can still use the safe word if I need to?” I ask.
“Always,” he replies swiftly. “You have the power, Indigo. I can only do what you allow me to do.”
“Even if I’m tied up?”
“Especially if you’re tied up. That’s when you’ll need it the most. You have twenty seconds left.”
I feel every single one of them beat in my chest as he stares down at me, some dark statue backlit by the pregnant ink-wrapped moon behind him.
“I’m not leaving,” I respond.
His eyes flare before I lose contact with his skin, turning to see him walking towards the door. He locks it using a deadbolt near the top, the scrape of metal making me jump.
I know the lock is just for effect, but damn, this man knows how to make a woman feel vulnerable.
A few moments later, I watch him head to a black dresser on the back wall, open the top drawer and bring something out.
I turn back around, unable to control my breathing, flinching as his fingers begin to brush my neck upwards as if lifting the tiny errant hairs that have resisted my bun.
I close my eyes for a second as I feel him wrap something around my neck. It’s smooth, thick and firm and as he clasps it into place at the back, I know instantly that it’s the black leather collar, the one he wants kept in his room for when I come into it.
My fingers reach for it, haltingly exploring the thick leather strap with the metal studs embossed in it.
My body is in a state of confusion—wildly aroused at the idea of wearing his collar. One he designed. One with my name inside it.
But at the same time, my mind short-circuits at the thought of wearing something that turns me into someone’s property. Can I really do it?
My eyes open to find Greyson standing before me, studying my no-doubt flushing face in the darkness.
His eyes drop to my fingers as they pry themselves between the leather and my skin, as if not sure if I can keep the thing on. It’s one thing wearing the daintier silver or gold chokers, but another to wear a thick leather collar with silver rings in it, one you most definitely could not get away with wearing in public.
“It won’t be comfortable at first, Indigo. In life, we are equals, but in bed, you’ll need to submit to me, and that will take some time for you to accept,” he says, as if he has a hotline to my inner thoughts. “Once you feel safe with me, you’ll drop to your knees and beg me to put it on you.”
“I don’t know if I like it. The collar.”
His eyes taper up at the corners. “I don’t expect you to like it yet. You’re a very disobedient little brat. I’ll enjoy you fighting it because I know, with time, you’ll reach for it when it’s not on you. You’ll miss feeling like my property.”
I swallow nervously, my arousal currently being the only thing stopping me from ripping it off. “I might take it off,” I say.
“You can always take it off,” he says gently, “or ask me to take it off if your hands are… unable to assist you.”
Relief lightens my body as he says it, mixing with pleasure at the thought of him restraining my hands, a fact that makes no sense to any part of me.
As I decide that I want him to reset my body, to allow me to enjoy submission again, to give me the pleasure I've felt lacking in sex for so long, my hand drops to my side and I peer up at him, letting him know I’ll wear it… for now.
His gaze hungrily stalks the curves of my body. “Are you ready?”
