Page 81 of Kneeling to Candy

A twinge of fear grips my insides, squeezing my stomach uncomfortably. I eye the belt wearily.

Whether he senses my duress or sees it in my expression, Butch holds up his free palm. “This is not for you, Candy. It’s for me.”

“It is?” I question, eyes wide. “How?”

To answer my question, Butch slips the leather strap through the buckle and comes back in the opposite direction through the buckle again, creating a figure eight. His hands go into either side of the loops before he takes the long strap between his pristine teeth, pulling the figure eight tight around either of his wrists.

My biker has made makeshift handcuffs for himself.

Seeing my tough biker restrained has me rubbing my thighs together. There’s something very erotic about seeing a man behaving submissively. I bite the inside of my cheek to stifle my wanton moan.

A tiny smirk plays at the corner of his mouth, probably because he’s enjoying taking me by surprise.

Holding out his restrained wrists to me, he says, “I’m ready for my punishment.”

Gobsmacked, I stare at him. “Punishment? For what?”

“For displeasing you earlier in front of the others, for losing my temper, and for not asking to speak to you privately about my annoyance.”

This is a lot to take in. “What do you expect from me?”

“As your sub, I’m expecting you to discipline me for my poor behavior.”

“Discipline you how?”

“There are a lot of ways. Spanking, flogging, paddling?—”

Holding up my hand, I stop Butch from speaking.

“I won’t beat you,” I object in a shaky voice. “The BDSM lifestyle is fine. Not shaming it. However, my experiences with it from the sub level are not pleasant. I will not abuse you if you upset me. That’s a hard no.”

Butch’s lust-filled eyes sober at my words. “Punishment will never be a beating, Candy. Your experiences were not consensual. You were at the mercy of sadistic abusers.”

He waves his cuffed hands between us. “What we have is consensual. Perhaps it’s better if we first discuss what you’re comfortable with and not comfortable with, and I’ll do the same.”

Releasing a sigh of relief, I nod. “I think that would be best.”

He holds his arms out in front of him, wiggling his fingers. “Should I remove my restraint?”

My eyes wander over my tall biker, handcuffed in worn leather. He’s massive compared to my smaller stature, and he’s experienced in this type of sexual dynamic. I’m not.

It’s oddly comforting seeing Butch in a vulnerable state. Almost like the playing field has leveled.

Bashfully, I bite my lip before meeting Butch’s eyes. “Would you mind leaving it on?”

His eyes soften, crinkling slightly in the corners. “Don’t mind at all, Goddess.”

He sits on the bed, motioning with a head tilt to take a seat beside him. “Let’s talk.”

With some of the awkwardness out of the way, I sit beside him, our thighs grazing each other. I peek at him, feeling my cheeks heat under his gaze.

“I don’t know why I feel shy, but I do.”

“It’s ’cause this is new to you,” Butch explains gently, contradicting the roughness of his fatigued voice. “Things are uncomfortable until you’re familiar with them—in all things.”

“True,” I agree, already feeling more at ease.

“This is our safe space, Candy. What we share between us is ours, and no one else’s. I want you to feel comfortable sharing any of your concerns with me—sex or other. There are no stupid questions. What’s on the table to start with can always be changed based on preference or curiosity.”

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