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Chapter 11
Chelsea
My heart pounded against my ribcage, and my pulse roared in my ears. The butterflies in my stomach were violent, a vast contrast to the softness in Graham’s stare. I reached for the hem of my shirt, tugging it off over my head and tossing it to theground. His eyes widened and then darkened, and he stepped towards me.
“Keep going,” he said, nodding to my jeans. His voice was low and controlled, and my fingers moved quickly to the button. I fidgeted with it eagerly when he smiled. “Very good.”
I dropped my jeans to the ground with a quiet thud, standing in front of Graham in a thin layer of black lace and a matching bra. “Now what?” The words stuck in my throat.
Graham smirked. “You get on your knees.”
I surprised myself when I knelt on the carpet. My stomach twisted, and my breath caught. I knew I should feel ashamed, that I should stand back up and leave, never looking back or taking another stupid quiz, but my curiosity and the warmth radiating from between my legs got the best of me. I sat back on my heels, looking up at him from under my lashes.
“You’re beautiful on your knees, butterfly.” He stepped forward, slowly circling me, and I held my breath when he was behind me. “What did your research teach you, hmm?”
I shivered when he brushed his hand over my hair, and I nuzzled against his palm. “That giving up control could be good for me. That I might like it.”
“Are you saying you want to give up control with me?” Graham chuckled, tracing my jaw with his fingertips. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes, and I nodded. “You have to say it out loud, Chelsea.”
“Yes. I want you to have control.” What was I saying? I always had control.
“Good. We’re going to have a great time. Do you trust me?” When a half-sinister smile tugged at Graham’s lips and he stepped away from me, the butterflies in my stomach crashed into my ribcage.
I nodded again, speaking up quickly when he cocked his head to the side. “Yes. I don’t know why, but I do.”
Graham laughed, throwing his head back. “It’s a start.” He tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head and discarding it on the floor as he walked to his closet. I started to move off the ground when he turned and opened the sliding door, freezing when he looked over his shoulder. “Stay there. I didn’t tell you to move.”
I gasped and settled back on my heels, becoming increasingly aware of my racing heartbeat. It wasn’t too late for me to back out. I knew that, and it was emphasized in my research too. I could take away consent at any point, but I didn’t want to do that. My hands shook with my breath, and I closed my eyes, trying to steady them both.
You want this.
Graham returned with a pair of velvet cuffs that hooked with a clasp in the middle, and he unclipped them, reaching his hand out. “Give me your hand.” I listened, extending my arm so he could wrap the velvet band around my wrist and fasten it. It was soft but tight, and I gulped. “Now the other.”
Graham circled me to fasten the second cuff around my wrist, gently dropping my wrist to my side. “Now what?” I asked when he reached for both cuffs and pulled them behind my back, hooking the clasp between them. I tugged slightly to test the strength of the restraints, both nervous and excited to find that breaking free from the cuffs would be more difficult than it appeared at first glance.
“Now, we go over the rules. For starters, you can end this at any time. Do you know about a safe word?” He slowly and gently ran his fingers through my hair, gathering it in a ponytail in his hand. I nodded; I understood the concept. “Do you have one already?”
I shook my head. “No.”
He looked at me thoughtfully, pursing his lips while he thought about it. “Valentine.”
“What?” I scrunched my nose, growing frustrated with the confusion and lack of friction. I fidgeted, pulling against my restraints.
“That’s your safe word.” Graham chuckled, wrapping my hair around his hand and tugging it lightly until I was looking up at him. The playful look on his face was mixed with a serious, daring stare that made my pussy clench. “If you want this to end at any point, you say the word, and we stop. It all stops. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” My mouth was dry, but I licked my lips, reveling in the slight tug at the roots of my hair.
Graham bent down until his lips hovered over mine. “What is your safe word, butterfly?” My stomach fluttered, and I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth, gasping when he pulled my hair harder.
“Valentine.” The letters raced towards my throat, and a small smile stretched my cheeks at the familiarity.
He looked proud of the single word. “And remember, you should only use that word if you need it to end. If it gets to be too much to handle—"
“I’ll be fine.” I held his stare, and my eyes started to burn with the need to blink. “I can handle it.”
With just a smile, Graham tugged at my restraints. “I know you can.”
He unclasped the cuffs, and the slight relief when I dropped my arms to my sides was satisfying. My legs twitched as the urge to stand up came over me, but his reminder to stay put kept me frozen in place. I rested my hands on the tops of my thighs, focusing on my posture and the curve of my spine. Graham released my hair, reaching down and taking one of my hands before helping me to my feet.
