Page 43 of Twisted Little Thing

"No, it's perfect," I reply.

There is still a good length of rope left. He holds it in his right hand like a leash as he slowly takes two steps back to look at me.

"There are so many things I want to do to you," he says, casting me a naughty smile. "Rope suits you. You will need more of it. And we need something for your neck, too. Don't you think?"

I am pretty sure that the only answer that will not get me in trouble right now is, "Yes, Sir," but it is not the one on the tip of my tongue.

"Something around my neck?" I ask. "Do you want to strangle me?"

He smirks. "No, silly girl. Leashes suit you – but they belong on a collar, right?"

"A collar?" I ask, blushing. I know very little about these things, but what I do know is that a collar can come close to a wedding ring between a Dom and his sub.

"We are nowhere near that," he adds, as if he can read my mind. "But maybe someday."

He pauses and looks at me with that stern, intense face. His look makes me shiver and causes my heart to skip. It feels like a warm but threatening grip, mesmerizing and paralyzing me at the same time.

I love it. I would do anything for him right now. No questions asked. Seeing him happy and pleased with me would be the greatest satisfaction I can think of right now.

"Would you like that?" he asks. "To be collared by me?"

"Yes," I reply. "Yes, Sir. Very much."

He smiles. "That makes two of us. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. For now, you follow me on this."

"Yes, Sir," I whisper, a dumb smile on my face.

He turns around and starts leading me to the window. I follow along like a puppy on a leash, with my hands tied in front of my body. I startle when he does something unexpected: he opens the curtains!

We are on the twenty-sixth floor, very high up and higher than most buildings surrounding the hotel. Most, not all.

I instinctively take a step back from the window as the light of the setting sun hits me. I feel so exposed, as if a thousand eyes are glued on me at once.

He chuckles as I try to seek safety by hiding behind him.

"Don't worry," he says. "I don't think anyone can see you up here, little girl. The windows reflect too much, especially when the evening sun hits them like it does right now."

He turns around to face me. The sun illuminates him from behind, giving him the contradictory impression of an archangel or some other holy apparition.

"You'll be safe as long as you are with me," he assures me. "Do you trust me?"

I look up at him and convince myself to convey a subtle nod. "Yes, Sir. I trust you."

"Good girl," he says, and leans down to kiss me.

It is a soft, gentle kiss, not as aggressive as his others, but still demanding. I instantly forget about the open curtain and the possibility of being seen. Nothing else matters when this man is kissing me.

"Get down on your knees," he whispers in me ear as he ends our kiss. "And look up at me while you do it."

"Yes, Sir," I reply, at once obediently sinking down on my knees without taking my eyes off of his.

Even his thick blue jeans cannot hide how hungry he is for me. I smile as I notice the telltale bulge even without directly looking at it.

"I didn't tie your hands at your back for a reason," he says. "I still want you to use them. Get it out and show me what a good girl you are."

"Yes, Sir," I say.

As I am about to do as he told me to, I happen to lower my eyes to have a view at the fly that I am supposed to open. He yanks at the rope, making me flinch as the knots cut into my slim wrists. It hurts a lot more than I expected.

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