I silently agree.
“And remember, you need to trust me.”
“I do.” The words come out huskily.
“Pick a safe word.”
A wave of confusion hits me and I frown. It’s not that I don’t know what he means, I just wasn’t expecting to have to come up with one out of nowhere.
“It’s the only word you’ll be allowed to say without permission. If you speak out of turn, I’ll punish you. If you don’t answer me, I’ll make it hurt.”
I dip my chin to my chest and nervously wet my lips.
“And, Arloe.” Easton cups my face, forcing me to look at him. “If you come without asking, I’ll break you.”
I swallow the lump that forms in my throat. The only response I’m able to give is another weak nod.What have I agreed to?
“Yellow,” I mumble.
Easton doesn’t speak, but he claims my mouth again, and I know he’s accepting my safe word. The thought of needing one scares me but intrigues me all the same. I’m no prude, and I read romance novels, so I know what BDSM is, and honestly, maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to him. The allure of fiction. My mind is so consumed with the things I read that I’m hoping to have even the tiniest ounce of that from him.
Despite everything he’s done since I’ve met him, I’m here, letting him do things to my body I never would have agreed to before. Letting myself care for him when I know I should run away. Caring more about his needs than my own because I can see that he needs this—he needs to let go, and it’s me who’ll remedy that for him.
He lifts my bra so both breasts are exposed, moving so quickly to take one in his mouth that I jump. I moan from the flick of his tongue over my hardened nipple. I arch my back, pushing my mound closer to him.
Easton releases my nipple with a pop only to pluck it, the motion sending a shudder down my spine. Then he licks the space around it, circling my areola with his tongue, rotating between biting and licking.
He grabs my throat again and yanks me to him, his face so close to mine that my eyes start to cross. “I want you bent over this desk; I need to see your pretty little ass.” He growls against my lips.
He helps me down and aggressively spins me before pushing my face into the hard surface, a low hiss leaving his mouth when I’m bent over in front of him.
“I’m going to hit you now, amore. And you’re going to count. If you don’t, we’ll start over, and we’ll keep starting over until you behave.”
I nod.
Smack, and I squeeze my eyes shut as a rush of breath leaves my lungs.
“What do you say?”
“Okay,” I breathe out.
Smack. He hits me in the same spot, and pain shoots up my side.
“Wrong, amore. What do you say?”
I swallow, bracing myself for another hit, but it doesn’t come. He’s waiting for me, and I appreciate the patience, but something tells me that before the end of the night, all of that will be stripped away.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl,” he says while pressing himself close to me, his dick lined up with my sex. Easton pets my head and caresses my ass simultaneously. “Start counting now.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I’m already tensing up, waiting for the next blow, my heart speeding up with each passing second. But he is still behind me, only the sound of him breathing lets me know he’s still there. I want to see him, watch as he enjoys himself, but I know if I move without him telling me to, he won’t like that. So I lie still, as torturous as it may be.
He leans over me, and his skin feels like hot rocks on my back. I can feel his dick twitch through his pants against me as his hand moves to palm my ass where he struck me. I know the gesture is meant to calm me, but it does nothing of the sort. Every time his hand leaves my flesh, I brace for the impact I know is coming.
Finally, another quick smack is planted on my ass. I push my forehead against the wood of my desk and inhale a sharp breath, telling myself not to make any more sound than what he’s asked for. He needs this, and as fucked-up as it may seem, I like it.
