So I let it rip. I’ve never been a crier, but the moment I let my guard drop, the tears start pooling in my eyes.
He looks from my one eye to the other, and I’ve never felt as exposed. It’s terrifying. But I want it just the same. Because I’ve never felt as seen either.
“That’s it. Let them spill.”
My chest shakes as I heave a ragged breath, and my exhale breaks the dam. I close my eyes tight as a broken whimper forms in my throat and the tears spill over.
Ulf leans in and kisses one eye at a time. It’s soft and reverent like when he kisses my forehead. He cradles my head between his hands, stroking his thumbs along the trail of fast-falling tears.
“Look at me, sweet Elina. Let me have them. These are my tears, and I want to see them.”
I open my eyes, and that’s when everything crashes. A sob tears from my throat, and I cry in earnest. I can’t control anything. I shake with the force of it, sobbing and sniffling, fisting my hands to find a modicum of stability.
He keeps watching me, straight-on, without restraint. He soaks up every little nuance of my grief—every ragged breath, every tiny tear.
I feel like I’m drowning. It’s too much—too intense, too intimate, and too revealing. Yet somehow, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted. And that only terrifies me even more. Because I know I can’t have him.
“Please.” The word falls from my lips before I can stop it. I already made one transgression with the apology. But I guess this doesn’t count as speaking. Because the word just keeps coming—a litany of grievous sounds. “Please. Please. Please.” I’m not sure what I’m asking for. Not until he brings me down to lie with him and wraps me tight into the safety of his arms, legs twining with mine like roots anchoring into the soil. It’s everything I need. And I’m so damn scared to lose it.
“Shh. I’m here. I’m staying,” he says as if understanding the exact meaning of my broken words.
“Please,” I keep begging, because I don’t believe him. Not in the way I need to. I have no idea what’s happening to me, but the tide keeps throwing me around, crashing me into big rocks, and dragging me underwater.
But at some point, Ulf’s pull becomes stronger. I start noticing the way he gently rocks me and the small caresses and kisses he peppers over my skin, my temples, and my hair. His hushed words of comfort. I start believing that he’ll stay. At least for as long as the storm keeps raging. And I guess that’s all that matters right now.
So I let go of the fear. I let the current take me away as I find stability in the gentle flow of his reassurances.
A smile brightens his voice. “That’s it, such a good girl. Nothing to fear. I’ve got you.”
16
Elina
Over the next few weeks, things go back to normal, and yet they change. I play with Asbjörn at the club every Friday, and Ulf is there watching. But instead of having me face the wall, Asbjörn restrains me with my back to the cross, allowing Ulf to watch me straight-on. And Ulf doesn’t just watch. He quietly slips into my private sphere, takes and dominates without saying a word. And I succumb every single time.
The first few times, he remains on the couch at the back of the room, but one night, he moves closer, bringing a chair up to the play area, demonstratively taking a seat as a spectator.
The trap of his gaze is much more severe up close, and I can barely breathe.
“Look at Ulf,” Asbjörn keeps demanding while he snaps a cane against my thighs. But his words are superfluous. The lock of Ulf’s gaze has already snapped shut, forcing my attention on him. I couldn’t break free even if I wanted to. That’s how strong his hold on me is.
Asbjörn goes at my thighs without mercy. I scream and buck in the chains, squeezing my eyes shut as the pain slashes through me, then staring at Ulf as I capitulate in utter, overpowering surrender. Asbjörn pauses every now and thento toy with my pussy, and then I’m moaning and panting uncontrollably as pleasure overcomes me.
I forget myself and my modesty as I get lost in the demanding authority Ulf quietly wields over me. But when Asbjörn gives me a pause to breathe after a particularly severe strike, my brain wakes up. It’s just for a moment, but as I see it all from the outside, clarity strikes. I’m not just giving a little piece of myself; I’m givingeverything. To a man I haven’t spoken more than three words to. A man I ache for but can’t have.
My heart contracts, panic takes over.
“It’s too much, it’s too much,” I erupt, squeezing my eyes shut and shaking my head. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep allowing him access to my deepest, most intimate parts. I just can’t.
“Stop. It’s too much,” I keep begging even though Asbjörn has already dropped the cane and is reaching for the right cuff.
“Please get me down,” I implore, even as he’s doing just that, opening the carabiner and releasing the cuff.
He’s about to reach for my left hand but steps aside when someone else moves close. I sense his presence—Ulf—but I don’t look. I can’t. I just want to get away. I can’t take this anymore. Pining so obviously for a man I can’t have is humiliating—not knowing why he keeps watching. Whenever I ask Asbjörn, I only get some vague explanation.He’s the chieftain,oryou’ll find out soon enough.I thought I could control my emotions—that none of it mattered; it was all just a little fun and exploration—but suddenly, I can’t deny that Ulf has a tight grip on my heart.
“Please,” I repeat with urgency, pressing my hand to my mouth as I try to hold in the sudden burst of grief. But I know all I can do is delay it.
The steps come closer, a powerful presence closing in. And then arms wrap around me. Tight and tender. It’s not Asbjörn.
