Page 84 of Puck & Her Blades

Jackson slips his finger under the scarf, checking that it’s not too tight. “So fucking beautiful like this. Do you have a safe word? If you say that, then everything will stop. Straight away and no issues. There’s no shame in saying it, and I want to know that you will, if you need to.”

“How about figs?” I suggest. “They’re my least favorite fruit, and I’m never going to yell that in a moment of passion. That should work, right?”

“I’ll use the same safe word then because I hate them too.” Jackson grazes his lips over mine. “See, we’re already finding things out about each other on this date. Now, I can look forward to taking you apart in all the filthy ways that I’ve imagined for years. I’m going to make you feel so good. You’re tied down. You’re not going anywhere.”

My chest aches.

I know why he needs this.

He lost me once. This is his second chance.

He needs to feel that he has me, securely.

I need this too.

I love feeling that he’s in control and I can’t be taken away from him, now that he’s found me again.

I relax onto the bench. “I’m yours. I’m never going anywhere again.”

And that’s what does it.

Jackson growls, revealing his canines.

He rears back, snatching me by my middle. Then he’s ripping at my pants and underwear, pulling them down and off my legs. He hurls them across the arena, before pushing my legs, until my ankles are caught either side of the bench.

I’m spread and exposed.

I blush.

It’s exhilarating.

My breathing is ragged. Hot and cold rush through me.

Jackson’s wild.

Unrestrained.

Feral.

He stares down at me, running his hand through his hair.

I’m laid out before him, as he studies me.

I squirm under his intent scrutiny but I don’t struggle or try to close my legs.

I want this as much as he does.

Need it.

“So, is this what you do with Cygnus?” I ask.

Then I wish that I hadn’t because immediately, Jackson looks even wilder, leaning over me and ripping open my shirt.

I gasp, as the buttons explode off into the shadows.

Jackson drops his hand to palm over my breast. He circles it, until I’m squirming and tugging at the scarf that holds me, unable to do anything but take the delicious pleasure that he’s forcing on me. Then he tweaks on my nipple, adding a shiver of pleasurepain to the mix.

Jackson studies me with a cold mask that makes my stomach flip.

---