Page 19 of Bound and Branded

I keep my eyes downcast, panic soaring through my breast, my heart fluttering like a trapped bird.

“Look at me.”

His tone is commanding, rough, and I can’t deny him.

My eyes lock with his and my heart almost bursts, my breath going short and sharp, my body throbbing with anticipation. Need.

Sex has never been this good. The closest I’ve come – ever – to being this turned on is when I’m alone, building fantasies in my own mind, but then I have total control. I’m creating the map toward my own pleasure.

Not here. Not now.

I try to get control of my breathing as I look at him, trembling beneath his gaze. He might tell me to leave. I might die if he does.

If he doesn’t?

I have no idea.

“You need a safe word, Dove,” he says, reverting to my app name.

I’m shaking uncontrollably and trying to hide it. If I speak, my voice will give me away but I know I have to.

A safe word. I asked him about that in the app, before I knew it was Caleb. It shouldn’t feel harder now that I know it is. But it does. It being Caleb has changed everything. Made it sharper. More dangerous.

Hotter.

“H-halt.” It’s the only thing I can think of. It’s how I tell my horse to stop when I need him to. It’s ingrained in me as a way to stop whatever is happening, and I know I’ll need something that doesn’t require a lot of thought.

“If you need the word, use it. Don’t put me in a position where I’m doing something you aren’t comfortable with. This is about trust. If you don’t trust me, you shouldn’t do this. If I can’t trust you, I can’t give you what you want.”

I nod. “I know.”

“Oh,” he says, his lips curving into a smile. “You know? You know because you watched some porn and did some reading? You know.” He releases his hold on my chin, and I’m not sure if I’m allowed to keep looking at him or not, but I do, my heart still thundering erratically. “Dove, I’m going to tell you something right now. You don’t know anything.”

My throat goes dry. I want to argue with him, because it’s what I’d normally do. Just a couple of days ago I was mouthing off to him in my driveway and now I’m half naked on my knees in front of him, knowing I have to surrender.

I don’t have to. I can leave. Any time.

But I’ll neverknow.

He’s right.

Research is just information. I don’t know what it feels like to give my body to someone like this. I don’t know what surrender feels like.

I’ve never done it a day in my life. I came out of the womb crying – the most cantankerous unpleasant baby on record, according to my mom. And I’ve been fighting every day since.

“I understand,” I say. “Sir.”

I know to call him that from my research, so he can’t say I know nothing.

There’s something that flairs in his eyes— desire, I think. I hope. I don’t actually know if he wants me or if he’s just agreeing to my training because it’s what he does.

Then his hand moves to my hair, and he grips it. Tight.

“I didn’t tell you to call me that,” he says, his words hard. “What you’ll learn is to do what you’re told. Now, get up and go into the bedroom and wait for me. If you get impatient and look around the room, I’ll know. If you take your clothes off before I get to you, I will punish you. If you touch yourself, you’ll wish you hadn’t.”

I can stop it now. I can stop it at any time, I know I can. I have the word and everything.

But what I know about myself is that if I obey him now, I’ll be in too deep to ever admit defeat. I either run now, or I’m all in.

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