I want to do this for him. We’ve been playing on the edges of it for a while now, but I trust him.
Completely.
“I know you came to Mask that night looking for something… and I know you’ve been gentle with me since then because you’re trying to make sure I’m okay, that I feel safe.” I bite my lower lip and step closer to him, sliding one hand up his chest so I can lean up on tiptoe and press my mouth to his as I speak. “I want to know every part of you, Maddox.” Saying his name feels saccharine on my tongue, like sin… like all the wrong things I’ve ever been afraid to do finally spilling over me.
“Luca…” His voice is a torn mixture between a growl and a groan—almost painful, almost reverent.
“I want you to take me into that club and show me what would have happened that first night if I hadn’t run away.” I raise my gaze to his, and crash under the waves of heat in his eyes. “Show me what it would really mean to beyours.”
Chapter
Twenty-Two
MADDOX
“Tell me your limits, little lamb,”I whisper from behind him, rubbing my fingers through the hair at his nape. Redness creeps up the back of his neck. I’d give anything to see the flush on his face, but I don’t want to put him on the spot. He needs to do this on his own.
Clearing his throat, he says, “Don’t crowd me.”
“What else?”
“I want to see you. No blindfolds.”
“Anything else, little lamb?” I press close to him so he can feel the heat of my body, so he knows it’s me.
He lets out a long breath, then looks back at me with those wide brown eyes. His cheeks are pink and that bottom lip swollen from how he’s nibbling on it in his nervousness. “No. I trust you, Maddox.”
I’ll never get enough of my name on his tongue. I love Professor, love how he says that title with such reverence, but him saying my first name? It’s like we’ve crossed some barrier, like we’ve passed some mark to solidify that he’s mine.
There’s no need to lie to myself anymore. Luca isn’t getting away from me. This is more than physical. It probably has been for a while. I just refused to see it.
But for once, I don’t need to take out that box and examine how much Luca is like or unlike the man in my past. Luca is just himself, just the sweet, caring, sometimes fluttery man who barged into my life as some kind of quiet, chaotic storm I was forced to notice. Now that I have, I’ll claim him as mine.
“Are you comfortable using some of the equipment here?” I ask.
“Yes,” he whispers. I hear the fear in his tone, but it’s tinged with excitement. Hewantsto be here with me. He’s willing to try for me.
There are a few pieces of BDSM equipment I’m familiar with, but I don’t want to push him too far too fast by immediately taking him over to the St. Andrew’s Cross. When we stepped in, his eyes swept the room, but when they landed on the cross, I thought he’d bolt.
One day, maybe.
Taking his hand, I pull him towards a spanking bench, wiping it down before I ask, “How’s this?”
“What is it?”
“A spanking bench.” The bench is black and red with padded arm and knee rests on either side. It’s equipped with restraints, and has an elevated portion where the person being spanked can lie flat, chest down.
Luca steps forward and fingers an ankle restraint, looking at the bench thoughtfully. “I think this is okay.”
I hum and bring him in for a quick kiss that he deepens as he stands on tiptoe. “Let me make sure the door is locked.”
My little lamb laughs, though redness creeps high on his cheeks. “God, yes. Please.”
I plant one more kiss on his lips, then go over to the door, checking and double checking the lock. I know it’s locked, as I threw the bolt myself, but I want to assure Luca that no one will see him in his private moments.
When I turn around, my jaw practically hits the floor. I watch with my breath trapped in my lungs as Luca starts to undress, pulling his shirt over his head in a smooth motion. His creamy skin is flawless, every single inch of him perfect.
He’s so sure of himself now, much different from the man I met here all those weeks ago.
