Page 55 of Forever Not Yours

He’d shuffled closer as he’d spoken, making Flossie jump out of his lap and onto the floor. He followed her, getting up and closing the door behind her. She’d be back scratching at it in minutes. She didn’t like being shut out. Then he sat back down on the bed, right in front of me, slowly and carefully removing the tie that was still around my neck, the fabric gently sliding betweenhis fingers.

“Give me your hands,” he said sternly.

Okay? I put my cup on the side and laid them on my lap. A swift swirl around my wrists with the silk tie, and then he knotted the fabric. A sharp yank.

Oomph.

“Colour, Bastien.”

For the first time, ever, I didn’t have a clear answer. Reds and yellows and greens dancing over my lips like some demonic chant.

“I’m going to need an answer. Red stops everything. Green? I take control, and you do as you’re told.”

“Green,” came out of my mouth. My dick tapped weirdly in my pants. I wanted to adjust myself, but he had my hands, and instead I had to wriggle awkwardly on the bed.

“Stand up,” he demanded next, tying another knot in the tie. I was now absolutely stuck, my wrists pushed together. I wriggled my fingers.

Coping mechanisms. I had a lot of those. Little things I did to calm myself down, things I did to make myself feel better. Other times, I needed out of my own head, something to take everything away from me.

Control. I was out of it.

He hadallthe control. Just thinking the words made me relax, the fear of what he was about to do with me was nothing against the fact that I had no decisions to make here. Nothing was on me.

He’d unbuttoned my trousers and pulled them down and was now leaning over, waiting for me to step out of them, my movements slow and clumsy as I tried to catch up with myself. My underwear pooled by my feet.

I leant forwards, assuming this was what was happening, ready to take whatever punishment he was planning to dish out, but he stopped me with a firm hand on my chest.

“Not today. Never in anger, Bastien. Spanking is for when it turns us both on, not for punishment, because I think Juliet was wrong there, however much you may have deserved it in her book.”

Okay? I’d have taken it. All of it. Bruised my skin for days again, just to make him forgive me.

“Lie down,” he ordered instead, his hand still firmly gripping my tie, guiding me where he wanted me. His joggers coming down, a couple of strokes around his growing dick.

He had such a nice dick. Hairy legs. Balls that hung nice and low. Strong legs, the thigh muscles bulging as he stepped out of his pants and pulled his T-shirt over his head, swapping his hands so he never let go of my restraint.

I was already hard, stupidly so, a heady mix of anticipation and confusion, wondering what he was going to do with me.

And here were those gloves again. No—different ones this time, being removed from the bedside table drawer. Rubber. Just one.

“I like the glove,” I breathed out. No lie there.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“They’re really thin, so I can feel everything. Every little shiver.”

Iwasshivering. Even more so as he adjusted the glove on his hand and then reached out, ran a black-rubber-clad finger down my chest, over one nipple.

A pinch over the nub. I made a little squeak, and it made him smile.

“You need this. You need to relax and get out of this anxious state you’re in. And I will make that happen. Colour?”

“Green.” I was certain this time. Absolutely so, because he was right. He carefully moved my pump to the side before giving my wrists a sharp yank as he lifted my leg, bent it up towards my chest, and rested it over his shoulder.

“Open up.”

His fingers. My mouth. Soft rubber over my tongue.

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