Page 49 of Forever Mr Black

He glances at the bedroom door and then warily back at me. “I don’t want to hurt you …”

“You won’t. I know the real you. The one who loves me.”

“I’m not sure, Sophie.”

I look him straight in the eye. “I want to see the dark side to Art Black.”

“Sophie, you don’t know …”

“There are no boundaries. No limits. No holding back. My body belongs to you. Do whatever you want, and I won’t stop you. Because I trust you.”

I see the fight in his eyes as he wrestles with himself. His head’s telling him no, but his body’s deceiving him. His breathing’s uneven, and his jeans are pulled tight across his groin from his erection. He wants this as much as I do. I’m going to end this once and for all.

I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him deeply, raking my fingers through his hair and making him groan with need.

He exhales slowly in defeat, pulling his lips from mine a fraction and looking straight into my eyes. “If you’re sure about this …”

“I’m sure.”

“If at any time either of us wants to stop, we use the safe word—red. Okay?”

I nod.

“You need to give me a minute.”

“Okay.”

He gives me one last kiss and disappears into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

I chew my thumbnail while I wait in the hall, listening carefully for any clues as to what he’s doing in there, but there’s nothing but silence. A few moments later, the door opens an inch. Intrigued, I push it open and step inside.

One of the bedside lamps is on, bathing the room in a faint light. Two black neckties are looped around the wooden slats of the headboard, and a pair of handcuffs lies on the covers at the bottom of the bed. Art stands, facing the door, wearing a black T-shirt and jeans. His face is set in a mask-like expression, which I haven’t seen before, and there’s a hard look in his eye.

“Take off your clothes,” he orders in a harsher tone than I’m accustomed to.

My defiance streak springs to life at his rudeness, and I’m about to tell him to ask nicely, but I suddenly realise that’s not what this game’s about. I need to get used to doing as I’m told—for a little while at least.

“Take. Off. Your. Clothes,” he demands, walking right up to me. “If you’re not naked in ten seconds, I’ll fucking tear them off myself.”

His rudeness puts me on the back foot. Cold, dark eyes bore into me. He’s right. He is a bastard. I don’t know this man. I bite my tongue to stop myself from telling him to fuck off. I should be appalled at how he’s talking to me, but the throb of desire shooting through my body says otherwise.

I unfasten the side zip of my dress and let it fall to the floor, and then I unfasten the clasp of my bra and toss it aside. Art tilts his head, running his eyes up and down my body as he walks around me while I undress like he’s inspecting a gift being unwrapped. I suppose I am. I’ve offered my body up to him. There’s no look of awe or admiration this time. His gaze is scrutinising and lustful. I feel exposed.

He stops behind me. His warm breath against the back of my neck tells me how close he is. My skin prickles with knowing. I shut my eyes, waiting for him to touch me, but he doesn’t.

“I want to make a few rules clear. Firstly, you only speak when I ask you a question directly. When I do, you’ll answer with yes or no unless I ask you a specific question. Understood?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“You must obey my instructions at all times. Understood?”

I feel nervous. But this is what I’ve agreed to. Total submission. “Yes.”

“Very good.”

He brushes his lips against my neck, rewarding my good behaviour. I jump at the unexpected contact. I’m wired. And we’ve not even begun.

“Take off your shoes and lie on the bed with your feet at the headboard.”

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