Chapter Fifty-Seven

He doesn’t hesitate. He sweeps me into his arms and marches to the bedroom. The lights from the harbor illuminate the dark wood and bedding. Later, I’ll do my last post for Susanne standing by this window.

Now, though?

I don’t think about work. I think only of the man whose arms hold me as if I’m light as a feather.

“I’m yours,” I say. “Do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes darken. “That’s a tall order, Skye. Are you sure?”

“Absolutely sure.”

He lifts his gaze to the contraption above his bed. “Anything?”

I nod, trembling. “What is that thing?”

“It’s no longer functional,” he says.

I hold back a sigh of relief.

“It was a harness, where I could suspend a partner, but I found that sort of play wasn’t particularly enjoyable for me.”

“Oh? What about your partner?”

“Depended on the partner.”

I opened this can of worms, and I suddenly wish I hadn’t. I’m about to give up control for good to this man, and I don’t want to think about all the other partners he’s had in this room.

“Why is it still there, then?”

“I just haven’t gotten around to having it removed yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because I met a woman who invades my mind every fucking second.” He sets me on the bed. “And all I can think about is all the dark and dirty things I want to do to her.”

I swallow. It’s okay. I want these things as much as he does. I want to give in.

“Did you like it when I bound your wrists?” he asks.

I nod, my body thrumming.

“How about these?” He tugs the chain between the clamps. “Do you like these?”

I nod again, inhaling swiftly against the torturous pleasure the clamps inflict on my nipples.

“Say yes, Skye.”

“Yes. I like them. A lot.”

“Did you like it when I covered your eyes?”

“Yes, Braden.”

“What else would you like me to do to you, Skye?”

I suck in a breath. “Whatever you want.”

He raises his eyebrows, sits down on the bed next to me, and fingers the odd notches on the runs of his headboard. “Do you know what these are?”

“No.”

“I had this headboard specially designed. I have bindings that secure here and here, and same on the footboard. They’ll hold you in place, all four of your limbs, render you completely helpless, Skye. What if I want to do that to you? Tie you up spread-eagle and then have my way with you?”

My body pulsates. “Then I want you to.”

He stands and walks to his highboy, opens a drawer, and pulls out what appears to be a riding crop. “What if I want to use this all over your body while you’re tied up?”

“I want you to do it.”

He sets the crop down and picks up a stainless steel object. “This is the anal plug I used on your body while you were blindfolded. What if I want to put this in your ass and then fuck you?”

I clear my throat. I’m determined to finish what I’ve started. “I want you to.”

He sets down the plug and picks up something else—something I don’t recognize at all. It looks like a collar but has a silver ring with four prongs sticking out of it. I shiver.

“This is a spider gag, Skye. Do you know what it’s for?”

“No.”

“It holds your mouth open so I can fuck it. What if I want to use this tonight?”

I’ve come too far to back down now. “Then I want you to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Braden,” I say, “let me be clear. I’m giving myself to you. I’m giving you the control you so desperately want. If you want to put a collar on me and lead me around on a leash like Sasha or Penny, do it. I’m yours.”

“For good this time? I get your control in this room?”

“Yes, Braden. I yield to you. I give up control.” He’s opened up my dark side, and at this point, I fear nothing from this man.

Nothing.

I want him. I want it all.

He groans, pushes me onto my back, lies on top of me, and dry thrusts his cock against me. “See how hard I am for you? See what you do to me? All these things I love to do, all these toys—I don’t even need them with you. All I need is your lush little body, your gorgeous parted lips, those luscious tits. Your control. But mostly I just need you, Skye. I can fuck you all damned night.”

I open as he slides his lips against mine, pushes his tongue into my mouth. We’re still fully clothed, but I feel as though we’re already making love, our bodies already joined in that most intimate way. He deepens the kiss.

I’m in love with this man. So freaking in love.

Can he possibly return my feelings?

He breaks the kiss, gasps sharply, and gives the chain between my breasts a hard yank. I arch my back, my whole body reacting to the tingles that flow outward from my nipples. Then he grasps the fabric of my dress and rips it, tearing it from my body.

“Braden!”

“I already told you. I’ll have this dress remade as many times as it takes.”

My nipples are red and hard from the nipple clamps that still grip them. Only my black panties are between Braden and me now.

“Grip the rungs of the headboard, Skye,” he says darkly.

I don’t hesitate to obey. I grip the wood firmly.

“Don’t let go,” he commands.

“I won’t.” He rises and walks back to his highboy.

What does he have in store for me? I want to know, and just as desperately I don’t want to know.

But I’m all in now.

I’ll take what he gives me, and I’ll take it gladly from the man I love.

He returns with a piece of rope. “Nylon,” he says, “doesn’t cause rope burns.”

I nod as he deftly ties my wrists in place, using the strange notches on the rungs. I pull against my restraint to no avail. I’m secure in his bindings. Secure in what he has in store for me.

He walks back to the highboy and returns again, this time with a piece of black silk. He covers my eyes.

“Do you remember the last time I took your sight?”

“Yes.”

“That was to heighten your other senses. But that’s not why I’m doing it this time.”

I don’t respond.

“This time, I’m taking it because I can. Because you’re giving it to me.”

“Yes.”

“You can’t move your arms. You can’t see. What else should I take from you?”

“Whatever you want, Braden.”

He yanks the chain between my breasts once more. I arch into the sensation, my feet flat on the bed as my hips rise. I pull against the restraints, my fingers itching to run through Braden’s silky hair, to trail over his masculine jawline and scrape over his stubble, to touch his hard shoulders and corded muscle.

Rustling wafts to my ears. He’s undressing, I think. Soon. Soon he’ll touch me with those warm hands, those firm lips, that beautiful hard cock.

But nothing.

Nothing, until—

Whip!

A lash comes down on my breasts, jiggling the chain and clamps and sending an intense sensation through me.

Another whip and then another.

“The tops of your breasts are rosy pink, Skye. So beautiful. Do you want me to do it again?”

“Yes, please. Whatever you want.”

The lash comes down once more and then again. I gasp and then sigh. Gasp and then sigh. Gasp—

“Oh!” Something pricks my nipple. Then again, on the other one.

What happened?

Then softness, wetness, a suck of one nipple. The prick wasn’t a prick at all. Braden pulled the clamp off without loosening it, and now he’s licking and sucking the already sensitive bud. I’m so ready for his dick, I think I might die a slow death if he doesn’t get inside me soon.

But he continues his torturous teasing, licking and nipping at my nipples, and then—

“Oh!”

Something cold makes my areola shrink so tightly, I think I might pop. He hasn’t told me not to speak, but I stay silent anyway.

He has my control. I give it up freely, and it feels…

It feels free.

I feel free.

Free as a bird soaring through the blue skies. Who knew giving up power could be so freeing? How do I feel so unbound when I’m bound?

The icy trail extends over my breasts and then down my belly, where it pools in my navel for a few seconds. Then down, over my vulva, and onto—

I jerk, arching. The tip of the ice melts against my clit, and it’s an influx of heat and chill together mingling in an intense spiral. Tiny droplets trickle over my labia, chilling and blazing at the same time.

“Braden!” I cry.

“Baby,” he says huskily. “We’ve only just begun.”