If Oliver accepts this, he accepts me.
But if he doesn’t…
If he doesn’t, he will never return here, and I will end this right now.
Because I can’t go further with Oliver if I can’t give him all that I am.
If I can’t submit to him completely. I will always want more.
I will always long to serve him in the way he serves me, because I have been poisoned by his sweetness, his sugar.
“What’s this room?” he asks.
I hold his gaze.
“What is your safeword?” I ask carefully. He narrows his gaze at me.
“Jabberwocky.”
“Good. Remember, you can use it anytime, Oliver,” I stress as best I can to him.
“I know that, but why—”
“Because this room is not just a room," I say, letting out a heavy sigh. “It is who I am.”
His eyebrows narrow. “I don’t understand, I—”
I push the door open gingerly. It’s dark inside, but as soon as we enter the light will come on. Oliver stares into the darkness, waiting.
“Go on," I say, my voice still and steady despite the nerves I feel.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sloane
Oliver takes one step in the door. Two steps. Three steps and then the lights come on, illuminating everything. I stand and look at him in the center of my paradise, his golden hair catching the light like a halo. His pale blue shirt stands out amidst the dark teal and black. I carefully saunter over to him, circling him as I let him take it all in. The St. Andrew’s Cross. The stocks. The massage table. The four poster bed with built in restraints. The breeding bench. He walks over to the wall, where my whips, canes, and spreaders hang amidst the restraints. His fingers deftly reach out and trail along the leather of my teal cat-o-nine tails. Then they trail over to the long, shimmering, teal satin ribbons. He picks it up and it slips off the hook effortlessly.
“Say something,” I say, my voice shaking only minimally.
“This is—”
I bite my lip waiting for the rejection.
Too much. Perverted. Disgusting. Fucked up.
He turns around, and I watch him fidget with the ribbon in his hands. He saunters over to the bed, reaching one hand out to pull on the open restraints at the headboard.
“Like something out of my wildest dreams,” he sighs.
The relief that floods my system is damn near palpable.
“Oh thank fuck,” I breathe.
He turns to raise an eyebrow at me.
“Do you, uh… bring a lot of people here?” he asks with concern.
I shake my head as I approach him at the side of the bed.
