Page 22 of Dark Embers

“Because...” My brain is whirling, but my body no longer responds to its commands—it has a new master now, and he’s staring at me with intense blue eyes. “I want you,” I murmur.

“I couldn’t hear you speak up!” Oleksi barks out the command.

Now that my brain has relinquished control, I allow my system to operate autonomously. “You. I want you, sir!”

His brow lifts. “And?”

There’s no going back or denying it now. “This,” I breathe. “I want this.”

“I didn’t hear you.”

“I want this, sir,” I say louder. The word 'sir' scorches my lips.

His eyes darken, but he doesn't smile. “Drop your dress. Slide the straps from your shoulders and let it pool at your feet.”

My heart pounds so loud I can hear it in my ears. My clit pulses with heat as I slide the straps off my shoulders and let the silky black dress slither down my body to the floor. Goosebumps rise across my skin as I stand in nothing but black lace and heels.

“Beautiful,” Oleksi says.

And fuck me, that word—that one word—means more than it should. It strokes something deep and achy in me, fanning a sense of pride that Oleksi is pleased by what he sees.

“Go to the window,” he commands, “and bring me one of the gold curtain cords.”

I step out of the pool of silk, walk across the room, and pull the tie free from its hook. It coils like a serpent in my hand. My skin tingles with anticipation as I walk back to Oleksi.

He watches me, his expression unreadable.

“Offer it to me. Get on your knees and ask me to bind you with it.”

I hesitate for half a second. Then I drop to my knees, holding the cord out in both hands and bowing my head.

“Please, sir... would you bind me with this cord, if it pleases you?”

My voice shakes. My voice trembles, but not out of fear. With want.

Oleksi takes the cord from my hands, his fingers brushing mine. “Look at me.”

I lift my eyes.

“Do you trust me?” he asks again.

I hesitate, the last bit of doubt lingering.

“Forget who you are out there. Forget who I am out there.” He points to the door. “In here, it’s just us—master and submissive. You give me your trust, and I will never break it. I’ll never harm you. If you ever feel uncomfortable, you say the word and we stop.”

He crouches in front of me, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Pick your safe word.”

“Daffy,” I blurt. “It was my favorite cartoon as a kid.” I realize I just spoke out of turn. My eyes widen. “Sorry, I’ve spoken without permission, sir.” The apology slides off my tongue without a single hesitation, and a tiny part of me is disgusted. That part of me that still won’t switch off sends a faint rush of humiliation through me.

“Don’t do that.” His knowing eyes hold mine. “There is no humility here. There is no shame. Understand?”

Unable to trust my voice, I nod, and he smiles. It hits me like a bullet to the chest. It’s not cruel. It’s not smug. Just... pleased, and that gives me a feeling of such pride it overwhelms me—what the fuck? Am I this needy?

“Look at me, malenkaya.” Oleksi takes my chin and lifts it. “You are perfect, and what you are giving to me…” His eyes fill with emotion and burning desire. “It is the most special thing one person can give another, so never ever feel anything other than proud of who you are, because you, malenkaya, are fucking perfect.”

Emotion clogs my throat, and he leans forward to press a soft kiss on my lips.

“Daffy is our safe word,” he says softly before standing, and his demeanor changes to one of commanding control once again. “Now, hold out your wrists.”

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