Page 31 of Safe Word

Silent, but somehow louder than words, his presence filled the room – tangible and overwhelming, commanding me without a single word.

My heels clicked softly against the floor as I approached. My breath stuttered with every inch I closed between us. My gaze fell briefly to the chair and the straps hanging loosely from its sides. The sight sent a jolt of nervous energy through me, but I kept walking, my back straight, my chin high.

I stopped in front of it. Silent. Waiting. I could feel his attention assessing me already. My breathing was too shallow, the restlessness building in my knees, but I didn’t move. I knew better than to speak first.

Angling his head slightly – without a word – he lifted a hand and beckoned me closer with two fingers.

As if drawn by an invisible thread, I moved, my gait slow, my pulse louder in my ears.

He dipped his head as I approached, his height only intensifying his dominance. At my five-foot-three, his size was a reminder of just how easily he could overpower me.

His hand came up, fingers curling around my chin with a firm but careful grip, tilting my face upwards. The cold, polished surface of the mask loomed just above me, the scleral contacts giving away nothing of the man behind it.

He stayed like that for a moment, silent and unnervingly still, until his thumb brushed over my lips. The movement was slow, almost reverent, smearing the crimson lipstick with the faintest pressure. My lips parted instinctively, a soft gasp escaped.

Then he turned, his large hand guiding me by the elbow towards the bed. My knees pressed into the mattress as I climbed onto it, the softness beneath me doing little to calm the electric charge between us. I knelt there, breathless, as he reached up to the shackles hanging from the canopy – the ones he’d been adjusting when I first walked in.

‘We’re stepping up tonight,’ he rasped, the chain clinking as he pulled it taut. A shackle hung inches from my face, its metal catching the low light. ‘What’s the word?’

I froze, breath catching as the meaning sank in. My gaze followed the cold gleam of the links anchored to the beam.

‘Think carefully, little angel,’ he added. ‘After these go on, you’re mine.’

The shackle wasn’t just a prop – it was a line. A line I hadn’t crossed before.

My chest pulled tight. For a second, panic crackled through it – too sudden, too fast, too much. What if I couldn’t handle it? Travis used to—

But he wasn’t Travis, was he?

I remembered last time. How Ghost had handled me like I might break. How every command had been swathed in care. His strong hands had been steady. Patient.

I exhaled slowly, grounding myself in that memory instead. He hadn’t failed me then. And I wasn’t about to fail myself now.

I reached out, hand trembling, and curled my fingers around the metal.

He waited. Watched, as I felt the cold links beneath my fingers, allowing the silence to aid me in making the choice.

The click was deafening as I fastened it myself – my answer given in steel.

I wish I could have seen his face in the prolonged quiet.

He moved.

The metal clicked softly as he clasped another shackle around my left wrist. Each movement was calm and calculated, his hands brushing against my skin just enough to make my breath stall. My arms hung suspended, leaving me stretched but supported, the faint tug of the restraints awakening something raw and dangerous inside me I hadn’t even known existed.

I wasn’t afraid – which was concerning. I should have been afraid. This man… I’d seen him once for half an hour with his mask gleaming and his knife as sharp as his intent. And yet here I was again, back in his claws. Wanting them to dig into me.

And then he moved lower. My focus had been so fixed on his hands at the canopy that I hadn’t noticed the straps at the base of the bed until he pulled them forward. Slowly, methodically, he looped them over each knee, securing them with the same care. My legs spread slightly as the leather cinched against my skin, locking me in place, leaving me open.

Cool air kissed the burning skin between my thighs. I hadn’t worn the underwear this time. What was the point?

My breath was coming faster as I knelt there, my body stretched and bound, entirely at his mercy. The anticipation was unbearable, like a coiled spring of tension and need ready to break.

He stepped back, his head slanting a little as he regarded me in silence.

My lips parted, desperate for something – anything – but no words came. His gaze alone was enough to make me shiver, and I knew, without a doubt, that I was his to control.

If he didn’t touch me soon, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could take it.