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Always his eyes, raging and intense, at odds with his gentle voice and manner. He doesn’t need any cuffs or chains or collars to bind me to him. All he needs is that dark, all-consuming need that swallows me whole and leaves me crying for more. It takes all my concentration to force out one word. “Master.”
Now it’s his turn to examine his slave. With my arms cuffed behind me, my breasts are already lifted and presented to him like a prize, but I arch my back more, offering myself to him. I inch my knees apart as wide as I can, baring myself to him.
I can almost feel the heat of his gaze flickering over my body. My skin puckers, goosebumps racing up and down my flesh until even my scalp tingles with energy. The more he looks, the higher the energy pulses. I can only imagine the resulting denotation when he finally touches me. I don't know if I'll survive.
Finally, he moves closer, his big hands casually shifting the layers of cotton that hide his cock. I want to see it. I want to taste it. I want it in me, claiming me as his, using my body for his pleasure until I can’t hold any more of him. I want his sweat on my body, his scent thick and heavy in my nose, my face crushed into his pillow, the one I cradled to my chest last night.
“What’s your safeword?”
I blink, unable to think of a word that he’ll believe. Any word I say will just be that. A word. It won’t have any meaning or belief behind it.
“I can see I’m never going to have a problem with you lying to me.” He lets out a rueful laugh, shaking his head. “You don’t have a safeword? Never?”
I shake my head, afraid I’ve let him down again. “I don’t stop. I don’t hit bottom.”
“You go all the way.” His eyes widen. “I knew it, but fucking hell, Ranay. What are you going to do to me? You’ve got to be able to stop me.”
I don’t want to stop him. That’s the whole point of being owned. “Why would I want to do that?”
Eyes narrowed, he comes to stand before me, but I can’t hold his gaze. Not with his pants sagging open, the purplish head of his cock peeking out of the top of the waistband of his briefs. He fists his hand in my hair and forces me to look back up at his face. “This isn’t about what you want, Ranay. This is about whatIwant. I want you to stop me. I want you to have a limit that you don’t allow me to cross. I need to be able to trust you in this, or we can’t be together. I’m too dangerous otherwise. I need you to be able to stop me.”
Desperate tears burn my eyes. I want him so badly I can almost feel the strain in my jaws as he surges into my mouth. The thought of him zipping up, releasing my hands and sending me home makes me want to wail at the top of my lungs.
But worse is the idea that I’ve failed him somehow. He wants something I can’t give, though I’d die to give him everything I have.
“Give me a limit, Ranay. I need to know what’s too far for you.”
I try to think of something, anything. He could tie me up, gag me, whip me, torture me any way he wants. I’ll love it.
He shakes my head a little, tightening his fingers to emphasize the command.
Finally, I squeeze my eyes shut and blurt out the only thing I can think of. “Don’t make me run!”
His fingers convulse in my hair. “What?”
“I don’t like to run,” I whisper, my voice shaking. I feel like a complete idiot, but it’s the only thing I can think of with him so close and demanding. “I’ll do anything you order, Master, but please don’t make me go running with you.”
He makes a soft sound of what’s surely disappointment. If I wasn’t already on my knees, I would drop to put my face on the floor. Shaking, I twist my icy fingers together in the small of my back. I hate to let him down.Hate.If he’s angry…
“Look at me.” The hard, unforgiving tone of his voice makes me involuntarily squeeze my eyes shut even more. “Look at me!”
My eyes fly open, and my breath catches in my throat.
His eyes dance and he cups my chin. “I suppose I can continue to take my daily run alone. Is that all?”
He makes me look him in the eye with all my misery, all my failings. And damn all the brokenness inside me, but that’s exactly what I want him to do. I nod. “I’ll run if you make me. Though I might curse you with every single step.”
“No, you’ve given me a limit. I must respect it. So, I expect you to respect the safeword I give you. Agreed?”
I nod again, though I can’t imagine how he’ll ever make me need to use it.
“Red,” he whispers. “This is the safeword I give you. We’ll work on you being able to tell it to me and mean it.”
I burst into tears. I can’t help it. I’m too relieved he’s going to give me a chance, even though I know I’ll fail miserably.
I don’t cry prettily. I choke and wail and sob like a baby, struggling against his grip to get my mouth on him.
He relents enough to let me get my wet face on his stomach. “Shh, kitten. I’ve got you. I’m not letting you go.”
