Page 9 of Surrender to Me

“Will you trust me?” he asked, voice low, gravelly, sending a shiver straight through me.

I swallowed hard, the weight of the moment settling over me like a heavy, unseen hand. I didn’t know this man but I knew the way he made me feel. The way my body responded to him before my mind could catch up. The way his presence alone felt like something undeniable, unshakable—something I had no desire to fight. So I nodded.

His smirk deepened. “Lay back.”

Before I could process it, he was moving. His hands—strong, warm, practiced—gripped my wrists and guided them to the wooden bedposts, looping the soft silk around them in precise, controlled motions. The silk was cool against my skin, snug but not uncomfortable, the perfect amount of restraint that made my breath quicken.

Once my wrists were bound, Legend stepped back, admiring his work, his gaze dragging over me like he was memorizing the way I looked, laid out for him, helpless beneath his control. I bit my lip, shifting slightly, testing the ties. They held firm and I was officially at his mercy.

His voice was quiet, unreadable as he trailed a fingertip down the inside of my arm. “Too tight?”

I shook my head. “No.”

His eyes flickered, dark and pleased. He moved down to wrap the silk around my ankles. When he was finished, I was completely spread for him, my body tense, burning with anticipation, my breathing uneven as I fought the urge to squirm beneath his gaze. Legend took a step back, dragging a hand over his salt and pepper bearded jaw, admiring me like I was some kind of masterpiece he had just finished painting.

Legend smirked. “You look good like this.”

Heat flashed through me at the roughness in his voice. “I can’t move,” I whispered.

He arched a brow, amused. “That’s the point, baby.”

I swallowed, my pulse pounding in my ears. “So what now?”

He didn’t answer. Not with words, anyway. Instead, Legend reached back into the drawer and pulled out something small and purple. I gasped the moment I recognized it. A fucking rose and I could tell it was brand new. Cleaned and ready to go.

My breath stalled, heat flooding my skin, my fingers instinctively tugging against the silk restraints. He saw my reaction and grinned. Slow. Dangerous. Wicked. “I’m guessing you’ve used one of these?” he asked, turning the rose over in his hand, his thick fingers tracing the edges.

I licked my lips, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sure you know the answer to that.”

He hummed, pleased, then clicked it on. The low, powerful vibration filled the air, and I tensed, my thighs clenching as the sound alone sent a sharp pulse of need through me.

Legend’s gaze darkened, watching every subtle movement, every reaction. “Damn. You’re already squirming?” he teased. Then, with no warning, he pressed the rose against the inside of my thigh on the lower setting but still enough to make me jolt. He chuckled. “You’re sensitive as fuck,” he observed, dragging the rose higher, tracing achingly close to where I wanted it. “I like that.”

I clenched my fists, writhing slightly, but the silk held me still. I was completely at his mercy. He dragged the rose up again, letting it hover just close enough to drive me insane, his free hand gripping my thigh, holding me in place.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he murmured, his lips just inches from mine, his breath warm and minty.

I gasped, my head falling back against the pillows, my body tense with need. “Legend,” I breathed.

He grinned against my jaw. “That’s not an answer.”

The second the rose pressed against my aching, swollen clit, a sharp gasp tore from my throat. The vibration was intense, a low, rhythmic pulse that sent a white-hot ripple of sensation through me, spreading from the point of contact to every nerve in my body.

My fingers tightened in the silk restraints, instinctively trying to close my thighs, but I couldn’t. This man had me open, exposed, bound to his will and he knew exactly what he was doing. He watched me, his eyes dark with amusement and raw hunger, the rose gliding in slow, taunting circles, never giving me exactly what I needed.

“Shiiiit,” I whispered, my back arching, my legs trembling from the relentless teasing.

Legend chuckled, low and deep, the sound vibrating through me just as much as the rose in his hand. “Too much?” he murmured, dragging it away slightly, letting the buzz of it thrum against my inner thigh instead.

The sudden loss of pressure made me whimper, my body searching for the friction he had just stolen from me. “Oh, my God,” I exhaled, half pleading, half demanding.

He smirked, obviously pleased with himself, his tattooed fingers adjusting the setting on the rose, upping the intensity just a notch. The moment he pressed it back against my clit, a sharp jolt shot through my entire body. I gasped, my thighs instinctively trying to close but the way he had me tied left me powerless to stop it. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp, thick with approval.

I barely heard him. My mind was drowning in sensation, the steady pulse of the vibration sending me spiraling, every inch of me hypersensitive. I tugged against the restraints, my body straining toward him, but he didn’t let me move. “I… can’t…”

Legend didn’t let me take control and for the first time, I let go of the need to. I let him hold me down, keep me open, keep me spread, keep me desperate. I surrendered to him. I let him have me. A slow smirk curved his lips as he shifted, lowering his mouth to my ear, his breath warm, teasing, cruel in the best way. “You like this shit, don’t you?”

I didn’t answer. Shit, I couldn’t. The way he was applying pressure and alternating the settings on the rose had me gone. Moaning. Shaking. My stomach tightening.

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