Page 52 of Until I Own You

“Yes, I understand”

I release the ponytail, though my instinct is to yank her head back and kiss her on the lips. “Good.”

Looking at her bare neck, I can’t wait to see my collar there, branding her as mine for all to see. I’ve never trained a sub, never had the opportunity to bestow a collar. It all hinges on tonight.

Regardless of what happens, though, I still want the full fantasy. I want to know what she will look like with my collar on. So, I remove a thin, blue ribbon from my pocket, a chocker that clasps at the back. It is simple and it is fragile. Like tonight. Like our budding sub and Dom dynamic.

However, I intend for this night to be a courtship like no other.

I raise the choker between my fingers. “Will you wear this for me, Bridget? We’ll call it a consideration collar of sorts. Just for tonight. If you accept.”

She smiles, this time with teeth. Her cheeks glow. “Yes, I accept.”

Relief floods through me.

“Let me put it on you…” I try to keep myself steady. “That way we can practice the ritual to the fullest extent.”

Hopefully one day, I’ll get to do this for real. A real collar. My collar. And Bridget…

She’ll be mine.

I take ribbon in both of my hands. Feels as light as a feather, something that might blow away in the wind.

“Stand,” I command her.

She does so. I guide her out from behind the table to stand with her back to me.

I loop the small band around her neck.

Bridget’s skin breaks out in goosebumps.

I clip the choker closed, then turn her back around to observe how it looks against her skin. Pale white and deep blue.

How I want to add red to the mix by marking her skin with my teeth.

In due time…

“There. Beautiful.” I drop my hands to my sides. “During your training, you will address me as Sir. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

I inhale as deep as I can to keep from coming straight away. I haven’t waited all these years only to waste the night. “You will keep your eyes down unless I say otherwise. Is that clear?”

A smile appears on her lips, her eyes veiled by her long ink lashes. “Yes, Sir.”

I run my teeth over my lower lip. “Good girl.”

Though she can’t speak, the minute movement of her lips tells me how good that felt.

I cross to the armoire of toys and grab a pair of soft cuffs for her wrists, ignoring the gleaming spreader bar hanging on a hook.

The image of her splayed before me sends another shock to my pelvis.

Soon.

If I don’t take it one thing at a time, I risk making a mistake. Risk ruining her trust and faith in me as a Dom. As a man.

Domination is a high wire act, a constant negotiation of exercising my authority and reading my sub. She is the center of my world while we are scening, and all I do is for her pleasure, even over my own.

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