“Shh, you’ll see.” He brushes his fingertips over my hairline, studying the braids Lea made after I had finished eating. “The braids suit you.”
“Thank you.” I touch a hand to the one over my left ear. I feel pretty. Feminine. But even more so, I feel like something is changing. Or maybe falling into place.
“Hands up,” Asbjörn guides, reaching for a pair of leather cuffs on the bed.
A swoosh of anticipation rolls through me, and my pulse thrums in time to the steady beat outside as he attaches leather cuffs to my wrists and ankles. The excitement builds rapidly when he steers me toward the tall, wide window in a bump-out, which I remember seeing outside and thinking it must be a new addition.
“A front-row seat,” he whispers, reaching for something at the top corner.
I gasp when I see what it is.
A chain.
I glance to the other top corner, then to the floor. Four chains with open padlocks are attached to the walls, just waiting for a prisoner.
My voice thins. “Are we playing here?”
He hums warmly. “This time you guessed right. Third time’s the charm.”
Asbjörn releases the chain and reaches down to the hem of my dress. Ever so slowly, he pulls it up, toward my breasts, about to remove the only coverage.
A slow pulsing of trepidation merges with the anticipation as I stare into the courtyard. Several people are gathered around the fire at the far end, playing on drums and now singing and chanting too. Other people are preparing to play. A woman in a square cage is bound and blindfolded, just waiting. Another woman is kneeling at her Dom’s feet while he puts a collar on her neck. And two women are already strung up on the crosses. A Dom behind one of them rolls out a long whip, steps back, and slashes it through the air. The tip connects with her upper back, and she screams, her head dropping back and her hands clutching the chains.
With a gasp, I step back into Asbjörn, pressing myself against the solid planes of his chest. “Isn’t he supposed to warm her up?”
Asbjörn releases my dress, bunched up around my waist, and trails his knuckles down the side of my neck. “Some women enjoy severe pain. The shock and the fear.”
I instinctively tilt my head, making room for his touch. “Why?” I know about pain, but not like that. Asbjörn always warms me up first. And the fear…
Slowly, he trails his hand to the front of my neck, turning it as he goes, wrapping his palm around my throat. “For the same reasons you enjoy this.”
My breathing turns shallow, more trepidation infiltrating my system even as a warm rush of heat stirs deep in my belly.
“It’s the chemicals in the body. Your own drugs that make you high. Adrenaline. Endorphins. The speed of your pulse. It makes you feel alive.” He reaches his other hand up to my face and covers my mouth with his huge palm. Two fingers come up to my nose, threatening to close my last passage of air, but just touching the edges. For a staggering moment, he holds me there, breathing hard through my nose. And then he pinches.
“Are you afraid, Elina?” he whispers in a raspy tone as he steals my breath. My airways close, and my lungs stutter as they try to draw in air without getting any.
I nod against his hand.
He hums, and when he presses his hips against my ass, I feel the huge bulge in his pants. I can’t help my reaction. Even though my oxygen is running low, I tilt into him, pressing my ass against his erection. He has never fucked me, and for a while, I was okay with it. But tonight has shifted something inside me. I want more. That rush of belonging. Being claimed. Being part of something bigger.
My need to draw in fresh air grows more urgent, and my hands dart up to Asbjörn’s arms. Holding on. Or maybe pulling? I can’t tell. All I know is that I need to breathe.
“Give in, sweet Freja,” he whispers. “Let me decide when you get to breathe.”
I dig my fingers into his arms. I’m so damn scared, but the desire dulls the fear. The desire to submit makes me want to accept it.
But then another scream rips through the night, and fear flashes in my brain. A strike of lightning. I jerk in his arms, and a choked yelp escapes me, drawing on the last breath in my lungs.
Asbjörn immediately releases me, flips me around, and gathers me tight in his arms.
“You’re safe,” he assures, pressing tiny kisses to the top of my head. “I’ve got you, Elina. You’re safe here with me.”
I reel from the shock—the fear still beating against my rib cage.
It takes a few minutes of shuddery breaths and calm caresses before I recover. Asbjörn easily senses when I’m ready again. He knows my reactions well, and I’m more than grateful for it.
Leaning back, he cups my face between his hands. “Do you trust me?”
