Page 29 of Exquisite Temptation

"I'm sorry you had to go through such a traumatic event. I admire your courage and fighting spirit because I imagine it could have been easy to give up at that age, but you didn’t," I murmur. He places his hands down on the table and cranes his neck in my direction.

"Thank you. I guess as humans we can’t escape tragedies, loss, and suffering, but these experiences can help us learn about who we are, find meaning, and build our resilience. Yes, it would have been easy for me to give up and wallow in self pity, but, luckily, I'm a fighter, not a quitter."

I exhale a long sigh of contentment. Having dinner with Christopher and sharing the deepest parts of ourselves feels natural and safe. It’s like we have known each other forever.

"I agree wholeheartedly and believe everything happens for a reason or reasons we can’t always see when we are in the throes of grief. In my experience, as time passes, the jigsaw pieces slot together, revealing the bigger picture. So, all we need to do is to have faith, trust the process rather than fight it."

He nods empathetically. "Absolutely. As Sensei Ueshiba said: ‘Don’t look on this world with fear and loathing. Bravely face whatever the gods offer.’"

During the main meal, the conversation shifts to favorite book genres, tv shows, and best holidays. He confesses he is a massive Tolkien fan who also enjoys classical literature, poetry, and sci-fi books. We end up having a heated discussion on the dismal series finales of Lost and Stargate Atlantis.

"You’re right. The flash sideways timeline was a waste of time, and the show ended with too many questions left answered. You need to accept you won’t ever get a closure wrapped in a nice bow and move on. Unless you are like Sheldon—then you can always call the network and complain." He tips his head, laughing out loud.

"What makes you think I haven’t done it already?" I let out a giggle.

"It wouldn’t surprise me. You are a feisty firecracker." Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare at him with mock outrage, fighting to suppress the grin building inside me.

"Coffee?" He wiggles his expressive brows, making me dissolve into laughter.

I clear the dirty plates and glasses while he makes coffee and gets the dessert. I make my way to the living room, with Isis stalking behind me, and sink into the couch. Jumping on her bed, she curls into a ball.

Christopher comes back with our coffee and desserts, placing them on the table, and positions himself opposite me. For a moment, unwelcome silence stretches between us as his unblinking black eyes search my face, reaching for my thoughts, and probing the depth of my soul. A flicker of apprehension courses through me, making my breath congeal in my throat.

"I imagine Katie has told you that my wife died in a car accident four years ago?" No point in denying, so I bow my head once.

"Since Amelia’s death, I haven’t had any kind of D/s relationship, nor have I played with any submissive more than once, apart from Emma, who helped me with the impact play demonstrations." He lifts his cup to his lips, taking a long swig as if he needs time to gather his thoughts. "The chemistry between us is undeniable, and we are kink compatible, too, so I'm interested in negotiating a D/s arrangement with you, but I can’t offer you a serious, long-term relationship right now."

A tumble of confusing thoughts and feelings assail me, making me unwilling to face him and, yet, unable to turn away.You already knew this, girl.

"Are you saying you want us to be friends with benefits? Meaning we would both be free to play with other people?" I glance at him, biting my lower lip until it throbs like a pulse. He stares at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Let me be perfectly clear. I don’t share. From the moment I put my collar on you and until the day I remove it, you will surrender mind and body to me. I will own you. You will be my personal fuck toy. Mine to play with whenever I want to. Is that understood, pet?" Gawd, he knows how to make a girl feel special. Leaning back, he crosses his legs, making his T-shirt ride up. My inner submissive fans herself at the sight of his toned stomach.

"When you put it that way, yes, I do." I squeeze my coffee cup between my hands as my mind reels with conflicting emotions.

"If you agree, we can discuss the terms, boundaries, and duration." He inclines his blond head, studying my face with interest.

"I need to think about your offer. It’s not a decision I can make tonight."

The yearning to be collared and owned by Christopher crushes through me like a tornado. But if I agree to his conditions, would I be strong enough to survive another devastating loss if he never opens up and loves me like I hope.Look at Katie and Master Dan. They started as friends with benefits, and now they live together, my eager submissive reminds me. Maybe there is hope for me and Christopher. He could fall in love with me. Stranger things have happened.

He straightens into an upright position, his gaze holding mine, making my heart flutter in my chest. Time to get the hell out of here before I throw caution to the wind and accept his offer.

"Take all the time you need."

I place my cup on the table and stand up. "Thank you for the amazing dinner. I’d love to stay, but I have an early start tomorrow."

He walks me to my car with his hands in his pants, waiting for me to pull out and drive off, not looking forward to another sleepless night.

Chapter 19

Micaela

Thedoorslamsshutas my last student leaves. I inhale the sharp odor of hand sanitizer drifting through the air as I survey the damage. My gaze darts from the rainbow of dirty handprints on the whiteboard to the round tables filled with open books, crayons, and half-eaten apples. Shutting my eyes, I drive a harsh breath out as tides of fatigues and despair engulf my body. I have spent the entire week tossing and turning, my mind replaying our conversation and agonizing if I should accept Christopher’s proposal or not. I can't get him out of my mind. In my gut, I know we met for a reason. The strange dream I had last night seems to prove my theory. I submerge myself into the memory.

Christopher leads me to his playroom. A soft gasp escapes my lips when I step inside. Candles of different shapes and sizes light up the room. Two golden goblets and a long ceremonial knife lie on the table adorned with black cloth. A blanket of white and red rose petals lie strewn on the wooden floor while soft music plays in the background. We stop at the table. Christopher lifts the knife and cuts his thumb. Blood wells up, dripping on the floor. He takes my right hand and smears his blood on my ring finger, gazing at me with adoration on his face. He gives me the blade, but I refuse to cut myself. Instead, I open my left hand, and a trinity ring made of platinum gold appears on my palm. Suddenly, a strange man wearing dark robes walks in and tells Christopher that this is a ring of prayer. Nodding, he extends his arm, and I push the band on his finger.

During lunch break, I trawled through dream interpretation websites, and most claimed the blood vow and prayer ring mean spiritual blending, the binding of two souls for eternity. Is the dream a confirmation that we are soulmates? Is it a prediction of what will happen? Damn it, I don’t know what to do. I'm caught between a rock and a hard place. If I agree or I don't, either decision would lead to heartbreak. I whip my phone out of my pocket and drop a message in the group chat.

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