“A little eager?”
My gaze drops to his groin. “I can say the same thing about you.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? You are a very sexy man.” He takes my hand and guides me toward a strange metal contraption in the center of the room that looks like it was built to break men.
My stomach twists. But I keep fucking moving.
The stand is cold and industrial, but with a padded platform at about a forty-five-degree angle. I’ve seen one before.
An immobilization stand.
I whip my head around to Adrian. “Yeah, no. I’m not a submissive.”
His hand brushes the back of my neck, gentle at first, but then his grip tightens. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make my breath hitch. “Are you afraid?”
My upper lip twitches, my eyes narrowing farther. “No.”
“I’m not asking you to give up control of your life, Jasper. Just to experience it during sex for once. To enjoy the freedom of surrender.”
I snort.
“Being in control is tiring. I know from experience. Let me take care of you, of your needs, so all you have to do is just experience the pleasure.”
My jaw clenches, my throat tightening.
I can’t remember the last time—or anytime—someone took care of me. Not even my parents.
Adrian gives the nape of my neck a squeeze, then pushes me forward until my chest presses against the padded platform. He holds my head down as he locks the metal collar and wrist restraints, immobilizing me from the waist up.
It isn’t uncomfortable. Well, not physically.
But how is this freeing?
I glance at my reflection—at the man who always takes charge. Now, all I see is a man about to completely fucking break.
“Let go, Jasper. You’ll be fine.”
I grunt, hating the way he’s exposing the cracks in my confidence.
“Look at yourself again. Not at your face, but at your body.”
My gaze travels back to my reflection, dropping low. My dick’s hard, red, and dripping. A string of precum hangs off the tip. I buck at the sight, a small moan escaping my lips.
“See, if it was so bad, you wouldn’t be responding like this.”
“Whatever.”
He chuckles as he undresses, neatly folding his clothes into a pile off to the side. Then he circles to my back, his fingertips trailing down my spine, slow and deliberate. “Have you ever bottomed before?”
“Once.”
“Was it a bad experience? Is that why you’re so resistant?”
“Bad in the way it was boring as fuck.”
“I promise this will be anything but boring.” His hands glide over my ass, his touch light but firm, causing me to gasp.
The restraints bite into my wrists and neck, forcing me to remain still as his fingers trace intricate patterns across my skin. Every touch is electrifying, amplified by my inability to move or reciprocate.
