The grassy floor expands further from the tree line as he treks up the hill. When he stops, he lets me slide down his front until he practically drops me, so I’m face to face with him. My back scrapes against what I assume is bark.
I hiss.
Caleb cages me in with his arms. Full of primal need, he stares deep into my eyes.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he starts. “I’m going to tie you to this tree.”
I gulp at the thought of being tied up.
“You’ll have verbal safe words and non-verbal cues. Unless you’re using a safe word, you don’t speak unless spoken to. You do as I say, and you’ll be rewarded. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I say with a shaky breath.
“Good. Yellow is pause. If you say it, I stop for a moment to check in. You might use this word if something doesn’t feel right that might need adjusting, or you need a minute. If you say red, all play stops. I untie you and check in.”
Easy enough.
“You’ll need non-verbal signals. These can be stomps and snaps, depending on what”—he looks me up and down, licking his lips, practically groaning as his eyes flash their wolf’s gold—“predicamentI have you in.”
“Predicament? What kind of predicament?”
My mind races at the possibilities.
“Do you understand?” Caleb asks.
I nod.
“That was a question. Speak.”
“Yes . . .”
Caleb peers at me from beneath his dark brows as he retrieves the rope from behind him, waiting for me to address him properly.
“Master,” I add.
I thought the term would trigger me, but there was something healing about it being used in a consensual context. Almost like I’m taking back the word. If I’m honest, it’s been a long time... and I want this.
His eyes stay fixed on untangling the rope trailing him, while mine dry out watching his muscles ripple with each rough pull.
“Good girl. Repeat our rules, so I know you understand.”
I lick my lips. “Yellow, pause. Red, stop. Stomps and snaps, check in and discuss the next step.”
Judging by his sly smile, my comprehension is correct. His excitement tells me he wants this, too.
Are we really doing this? Putting aside our hatred for each other if for just a moment to relieve this tension?If so, I’m game. But is it just for a moment? I want to make sure.
“After this, we go back to hating each other.”
“Oh baby, I never stopped. In fact, I’m going to show you just how much I hate you. Lift your arms.” Caleb unbuckles his belt.
The softclinkechoes in the clearing as he does.
I obey and lift my arms.
Caleb grasps the hem of my shirt and peels the article up and over my head. Suddenly, I’m feeling self-conscious about my average-sized breasts. I’m one of the unlucky ones to be in-between sizes. Constantly having to choose between gapping, the band not fitting or my breasts spilling over the cups and the band being too tight. I’m practically a C, but Bs seem to fit me the best.
Standing in a bra and shorts, Caleb places me where he wants me, I let him secure my arm to the thick branch. Then the other arm. Caleb taps the inside of my thighs instructing me to spread them. When I do, I imagine I look like a scarecrow on display for the birds to taunt. Caleb is the bird.
