“This is it. After this party, we are done.”
“Agreed,” I said, raspy.
“I want to give you a collar.”
My heart skipped. Wes wasn’t quitting. He wasn’t giving up on us. “You want to be…” I stumbled over my words, and Wes caught me.
“Yes, Nova. I want to be your Dom, if you want me to be.Boyfriendworks too.”
He didn’t let go of my hair. If anything, his grip only tightened as his gaze roamed my face in fervent desperation.
Like a near death experience, my erotic life quickly flashed before my eyes. The feelings and attractions I’d been born with, that had always been a part of me no matter how hard I prayed for them to be removed. Secretly enjoying getting chased by boys at my school, my Daphne obsession, my early explorations on the dark corners of the internet and social media. All those years spent denying what could never be smothered. All those years spent associating my desires with the disgusting, abusive men who’d hurt me, who had hurt Lorelei even more.
And then, I experienced the last few months, watching people live out their wildest, kinkiest fantasies like it was as easy as breathing. I saw myself opening up, changing, dreaming of a future for myself I never thought possible, one in which I could befree.
Free enough to fall for someone like Wes, kicking and screaming the whole way down.
Wes faltered as I stayed silent, his grip finally loosening.
I forced the words from my lips. “I want to be yours, Wes.” My shoulders relaxed. My breathing slowed. I placed a hand on his chest. “I trust you.”
The briefest flash of something I couldn’t read passed through Wes’s eyes. Maybe he was thinking of his ex and his own years of self-punishment and denial.
He released my hair and pulled me into his arms, his hand smoothing the back of my head where my scalp was still raw. “We’re only going to do what you marked as bright green for now, understood?”
I nodded, melting into his chest. His scent had become soothing to me. I couldn’t get enough of it into my lungs.
“I’m going to take care of you, Nova,” he whispered. “I promise.”
37
NOVA
“Take off your dress,” Wes instructed.
I stood with my back to Wes’s bed, facing him. My shoulders relaxed at the command, and I gently lifted the fabric over my head, discarding it on the floor. Only my panties and thigh-high black socks remained.
Wes stood back, as if appraising a piece of fine art. “Perfect,” he praised. “However, I believe these socks were worn as a form of psychological warfare.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied, knowing full well every straight man responded in the exact same way to thigh high socks.
Wes chuckled darkly. “You are very brave to lie when you’re already being charged with war crimes.”
“Do I get a defense?” I asked.
Wes lifted his brows, eyes dancing with humor. “No.”
He pinched a nipple, and I gasped in pain. His hand covered my mouth, face moving close to mine. “No one can save you from me now.”
Currents of pleasure radiated from my abused nipple. My thighs shifted together.
Wes removed all touch, towering over me. “Get on your knees for me.” His lips curved. “Please.”
My head felt floaty, but my senses remained hyperalert. I lowered to my knees.
“I’m of the opinion that Doms would do well to mind their manners too, Nova,” Wes said as he opened the top drawer of his dark wooden dresser.
“Except around Archer and Jayne?”
