Page 22 of Blue Velvet

I end our kiss with a sudden abruptness that surprises her. Her dazed and confused eyes follow me when I straighten up to my full heighth, never releasing my touch on her. She remains in place, her body pressed against mine and her arm forced against her back, her head tilted back into her neck so she can keep eye contact with me.

“What’s your secret?” she whispers hoarsely.

I let a few moments pass, relishing the feeling of her fast-beating heart against my chest. She uses the time to grind against my hard length with such subtle movements that they’re merely more than suggestions.

“I’m not who you think I am,” I say. “I’m not your client.”

Our eyes are locked, and for a split second, I see terror punctuating the expression on her pretty face. But she quickly regains her composure.

She believed me for a second there. It was evident in the momentary wildness reflected in her dark green eyes. But then she cast the thought aside.

She believes me—I know it—but she doesn’twantto.

13

Ruby

He’s been awfullyneglectful when it comes to abiding by the rules set out in our contract. He almost hit me in the face, even though that’s clearly stated as one of my hard limits. He refused to let me have my bracelet, and he continuously asks questions that he shouldn’t be asking via our agreement.

And now he’s put the cherry on top by telling me that he’s not the man I think he is.

There was a moment when it all made sense to me, that moment when I heard a loud voice, a terrified girl screaming for help—but that was before I silenced her. I can’t believe any of this. I don’twantto believe it. It doesn’t make any sense.

And yet it does.

That’s what’s so terrifying about what he told me. It makes sense on so many counts.

I’m not your client.

The words echo inside my skull, and with them comes a wave of relentless fear. If what he says is true, I’m in real danger.

Ifwhat he says is true.

He might be lying. He might be lying to evoke a reaction from me, a reaction that he’s been waiting for me to show. It’s obvious that he hasn’t been happy with my performance so far, so maybe he’s just trying to scare me so I panic?

I moan when he removes the towel that’s covering me, baring me to him, while his hard length continues to poke against my belly. It’s the first time that I can feel his hand on my body, exploring, claiming every part of me while his tongue invades my mouth anew. He’s so much taller than me, and so much stronger.

A faint yelp escapes my lips when he lifts me up, his hands digging into the flesh of my behind, as he carries me over to the stretching bank.

“No,” I whisper, as memories of that horrible first night come back to me.

“Yes.”

His reply comes out as hisses between our kiss. I wrap my legs around his slim waist, grinding against his crotch as if I could stop him from going through with his plan. But of course, I can’t. His lips never leave mine as he lowers me onto the hard wood.

“Arms up.”

I cast him a pleading look, but obediently I move my arms up to the shackles. My hair is still damp from the shower and my face free of make-up. I wonder why he’d want me like this. Why did he order me to dress up like a fuck doll, only to strip it off and use me like this, bare-naked, with nothing to adorn my rather plain body. There’s nothing particularly special about me, except for the fake tits.

He’s moving slowly and deliberately, closing the shackles around my wrists without ever looking at me.

“Legs.”

His commands are sharp and short, always. And I jump at them like an obedient puppy.

I’m not your client.

There it is. Panic blossoms in my chest when he closes the cuffs around my ankles, and I finally allow myself to believe his words. This would be unsettling even if hewasmy client, but if he’s telling me the truth and he’s really not...

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