His eyes darken. He leans in closer, his forehead pressed to mine, his thick, warm fingers encircling the back of my neck. “That’ssirwhen we’re in this room.”
Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god.
“I’m a little nervous,” I say quietly.
“Good,” he says, turning to face me. “You should be. You were a naughty little thing, weren’t you? Testing me, right before I went into the ring.”
My heart pounds. I’m not prepared. Nothing could have prepared me for this.
This room is bathed in a deep red light, shadows dancing across the leather furniture and exposed brick walls. Beyond the door, the music thrums low and hypnotic—something dark and primal. The room is larger than I remembered, with a massive bed that dominates one wall, covered in charcoal gray. There’s a wooden sideways cross, mirrors on two walls, along with one full wall of… things. Leather straps, whips, things I don’t recognize.
“Eyes on me, love,” Cavin growls.
He’s watching me as his fingers travel to his waist and he unbuckles his belt, sliding the leather free. It’s a sound that makes me shiver. I watch as he coils it and places it deliberately on a little table.
“The last thing I want to do is control you,” he says quietly. “This is for both of us. You and me. This only happens if you like it. If you’re into this. If you want this.”
I swallow hard and lick my lips. Part of me wants this, and part of me is scared as hell.
“So there’s a safeword. A system,” he says. “You say the word ‘purl’ and this stops immediately.”
“Purl? As in knit and purl?” I bite my lip so I don’t giggle. He was listening, then.
“Mm-hmm,” he says. “But unless you say that word, you take what I give you. You obey. You submit. And this is not the time to sass me, woman. This is not the time to test me.”
I swallow hard. He’s giving me an out, but I’m not sure I want to use it. I want to see where he can take me.
He circles me, and I feel his gaze like a physical touch, trailing over my skin.
“You wanted to provoke me tonight,” he says. “You wore that top, knowing full well what it would do to me. And you did it, knowing I didn't want you there. You pushed and pushed, and here we are.”
He stops behind me, so close I can feel his heat, and his mouth goes to my ear. “Congratulations, love. You have my full attention now, don't you?”
I do.
His hand slides up my spine, his fingers finding the zipper of my skirt. He drags it down slowly, deliberately. “Now strip. Don’t make me say it again.”
My hands shake as I comply. The damned backless top that started all this comes off first, followed by the skirt that pools at my feet. I step out of my heels and stand there in just my black lace thong—vulnerable and exposed—while he drinks me in.
“You're fucking beautiful. And all mine,” he murmurs, circling back around to face me. His hand comes up, fingers gripping my jaw firmly. “Look at me.”
My eyes meet his.
“Good girl. Now, who do you belong to?”
“You?” I whisper.
“That a question?”
I shake my head. “No. No, sir.You.I belong to you, Cavin.”
His grip tightens. “Louder.”
“You. I belong to you.”
“That's right.” He releases my jaw only to fist his hand in my hair, tilting my head back. “You've been racking them up, haven't you, love? Your punishments. Every little act ofdefiance.”
I move toward him on trembling legs, but he stops me with a hand on my chest.
