"But you're here," I point out. "You came to my bed. You let me inside you. You cried in my arms and let me hold you through the grief. Those were choices."
She closes her eyes, and when she opens them, something has shifted.
"And if I choose this?"
Heat floods through me, dark and possessive. "Then we establish rules. The most important one is your safe word. One word that stops everything immediately, no questions asked."
She considers this, her gaze drifting to the leather restraints, the attachment points, the carefully curated implements of pleasure and pain.
"What word?" she asks.
"Anything you want. Something you wouldn't say during sex."
"Pineapple," she says after a moment, and there's a hint of defiance in her voice that makes me want to kiss her.
"Pineapple," I repeat, committing it to memory. "You say that word, and I stop. Immediately. No matter what's happening. Do you understand?"
She nods, but I shake my head.
"Say it. I need to hear you say it."
"I understand," she whispers. "If I say pineapple, you stop."
"Good girl." The praise makes her shiver, and I file that response away for later. "This room is about trust, Eve. You trust me with your body, your pleasure, your pain. And I trust you to use that word if you need it."
Her pupils dilate. "Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir."
The words unlock something feral in me. I kiss her hard, claiming her mouth with teeth and tongue while my hands strip away my t-shirt. Can't wait another second. Her lips are soft, yielding, and when she gasps in surprise, I take advantage, deepening the kiss.
She tastes like champagne and something sweeter, and the small sound she makes in the back of her throat destroys the last of my control. She's naked underneath her shirt, soft and perfect and mine. I tear it off impatiently, her skirt following a second later.
I back her against the wall, caging her with my body. She arches into me, her hands fisting in my jacket. The kiss turns desperate, hungry, all of my obsession crystallizing into this moment.
When I finally break away, we're both breathing hard.
"Come here," I rasp, taking her hand.
I guide her to the leather bench, positioning her on her hands and knees. Her ass is perfect, curved and full, and I can see how wet she already is.
But her eyes are dilated, her breathing quick. "What are you going to do to me?"
"Everything." I stroke my thumb across her lower lip. "But tonight? Tonight I want you to stop thinking. Stop worrying about your company, your ex, the whole fucking world. I want you to just feel."
"How?"
"By taking away everything except my touch, "I say, running my hand down her spine. "Do you want to be fucked mercilessly?"
"Yes." The word is desperate. "Please."
I’m so fucking hard, but I need to teach her a lesson first. I retrieve soft rope from the wall, the kind that won't damage skin. Working efficiently, I bind her wrists to the bench, then her ankles, spreading her wide and vulnerable.
She whimpers, testing the bonds. They hold.
"Beautiful," I murmur, circling her again. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to see you like this. Bound and open and completely at my mercy."
