I swallow hard. “You. I want you. I want... more.”
“More of what, sweetheart? Use your words.”
Heat floods my cheeks, but I push through. “I want you to touch me. Really touch me. I want to know what it feels like when you're not just taking care of me but taking me. Inside of me. Owning me.”
His eyes darken. “That's very direct.”
“You said you don't do indirect.”
“I don't.” His thumb strokes the inside of my knee, and the sensation makes me shiver. “But once we cross this line, everything changes. Once I take you, I won’t stop taking you.”
“I want it to change.”
He studies me for a long moment, and I can see him thinking, see him weighing risks, considering consequences, making sure this is right.
“Stand up, baby.”
I do, on shaking legs.
“We're going to establish some things first. Safewords, limits, what you want and don't want. Because sometimes, in the bedroom, kinky play can turn intense pretty quickly.”
“I already told you my limits,” I say, impatient. I don’t want to go over any of this again. I want him to throw me on the damn couch and fuck my brains out.
“Tell me again. Out loud. So there's no confusion.”
I take a breath. “Nothing that leaves marks I can't hide. Nothing degrading. And I want to feel safe, even when you're in control.”
He nods. “Safeword?”
“Red to stop. Yellow to slow down. Green means keep going.”
“Good. And if you can't talk—if you're too overwhelmed or too deep in subspace to use words—what's your nonverbal signal?”
“I... didn't think about that.”
“Three taps,” he says, taking my hand and demonstrating on his own thigh. “Anywhere on my body. Three deliberate taps mean red. Can you remember that? If my cock is down your throat and you can’t speak, if you have a gag in, if you can’t vocalize, I need you to tap me three times.”
“Yes, sir.”
His expression softens. “One more thing. This isn't just sex, Madison. This is me claiming you. Fully. Completely. Are you sure you are ready for that?”
My pulse is in my throat. “Yes.”
“Then bedroom. Now.”
The walk down the hall feels like miles. My heart is pounding so hard I'm dizzy with it. But when we step into his bedroom—our bedroom—and he closes the door behind us, everything else falls away.
“Strip,” he says quietly. “Slowly. I want to watch.”
My hands shake as I reach for the hem of my shirt. His eyes never leave me as I pull it over my head, leaving me standing there in my bra and underwear. I reach for the back of my bra,but he clears his throat and makes a circular motion with his finger.
“Turn around.”
I do, and I feel his gaze like a physical touch, tracking every curve, every line.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs. “Absolutely perfect. Now the rest.”
I reach back to unhook my bra, let it fall. Then slide my panties down, stepping out of them with as much grace as I can manage while completely naked and vulnerable.
