Page 62 of Surrender to Me
Lyra
I frown. “Mirroring?”
“It’s a BDSM technique.” His voice dips low, that gravel-over-velvet timbre wrapping around me like a restraint, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that pins me in place. “One that builds total trust through surrender and synchronicity. You become my reflection—mirroring my every command, my every touch, without hesitation.”
A sudden gust seems to whip away all the thoughts from my brain.
“It’s about letting go of control, Allie, about following me so completely that our movements, our breaths, even our desires blend into one.”
What he’s suggesting is impossible.
“No resistance. Just pure, unfiltered submission. It strips away the barriers, makes the connection deeper, more intimate than anything we’ve done so far. Sensually, it’s profound—heightens every sensation, turns pleasure into something almost spiritual. But it demands trust. Absolute trust.” He pauses, his gaze on me.
The first snowflakes begin to swirl around us like confetti.
“Are you willing to try? To let me lead you there?”
My heart stutters, a mix of intrigue and nerves coiling tight in my belly. Why haven’t I already said no?
“For this experiment only.” He raises one hand. “I’m not asking for anything else.”
Just the world.
If he only knew my history, what I’ve been through.
But…
Sensually? My body craves this, aches for the depth he’s promising. But still, the word “trust” is a warning bell. He wants something I’ve given no one except my father.
Patiently, without prodding me, he waits.
And I know that if I say no, he won’t push.
That alone is worth everything to me.
Maybe it’s because I’m in a bubble with him, the world blurring around us, I’m tempted.
I’m hyperaware of the clock ticking, adding to my emotional desperation.
As soon as the storm passes, I’m out of here. I’ll never see him again.
Never.
“Tell me yes, Allie. Give us both what we want.”
When he looks at me that way, with smoldering intensity, my resistance melts.
Wind whips around us, sending a chill through me, but shockingly I’m not cold. I’m on fire. From the inside out.
“What do you say?”
That I’ve lost my mind? Finally I whisper, “Yes.” The atmosphere seems to freeze the word between us.
“You’re willing?”
I need to have his hands on me, need to be naked beneath him. Need to forget that this is a life I can never have. “I’m willing.”
His smile turns predatory, approving, and he brushes a snowflake from my cheek with his thumb, his touch lingering like a promise. “Good girl. Let me get you inside.”
