Page 71 of First Time

Muttering beneath my breath, I shoved all that shit back into the box in a corner of my mind.

“Becky?” Daniel called from downstairs, but I didn’t have the energy to respond.

Chantelle had dragged shit up I hadn’t wanted to discuss. She’d exhausted me.

Heavy footfalls I recognized announced Daniel’s climbing of the stairs. I listened as he traversed the hardwood flooring in the hallway. Awareness of him skittered down my spine, but I tamped the beginnings of desire away, self-loathing too damned strong to allow me enjoyment of anything.

I could feel his eyes on me but didn’t roll to face him.

He approached, my skin itching to acknowledge him.

Eyes closing, I squashed the yearning for him down deep where it wouldn’t be roused.

Daniel rounded the foot of the bed. The bottom drawer of the dresser squeaked, and my heart rate kicked up at the memory of what he kept there. Regardless of my need to keep a tight rein on my body, craving lit in my core.

“Becky.” He sounded close—too fucking close.

I couldn’t find my voice.

“Do you remember your safeword, sweetness?”

Oh, God. I gulped, his low tone making goose bumps rise along my skin. Every cell giving me life tingled, refusing to be stuffed in the corner of safety I’d created for myself.

I didn’t want to feel. Didn’t want to think. Didn’t want to lose my shit—

“Stand up. Face me, eyes on the floor.”

As though Daniel commanded my mind, I slid off the edge of the mattress without hesitation. Even though I knew he would never hurt me physically, I cowered before him, my focus on the navy blue rug beneath my bare feet.

Rather than tipping my chin up as I expected, Daniel stayed put, feet in a wide stance. “Strip.”

My hands moved on autopilot, pulling my T-shirt off overhead. I unclasped my bra, allowing it to fall to the floor and leaving my large breasts unbound and sagging. The linen sleep pants Chantelle had gifted me slipped soundless down around my ankles once untied from my waist.

Skin once more pebbling, I shivered…unsure if it was due to want—both physically and to escape where my emotions couldn’t be flayed open.

“Panties too.”

An audible swallow worked my throat as I did as told.

“Good girl,” Daniel murmured.

I closed my eyes, my breath leaving in a rush at his simple words of edification. I’d made the right choice…had listened to his commands. Although broken parts of me wanted to hide, my subconscious insisted on doing what was right—necessary to move on.

Even in his death, Stephen had somehow spelled me into submission to his darkness, the complete hindrance of anything positive in my life. But I was done with the man. He, along with all the memories of our many years together, needed to be shoved in that goddamned box in my head keeping me from a better future.

The numbness broke me apart at the seams, unraveling…leaving me shaking.

“Becky?” Daniel checked in with me, his voice full of concern.

“Green, Sir,” I rasped out, on the verge of breaking.

“Do I have permission to touch you?”

Throat thickening, I nodded, a desperate ache for him settling in my chest. “Yes—Master Cooney.”

A low groan escaped his lips and swept warmth through my core, giving me something delicious to focus on.

Arousal—blessed need pulsed to life inside me.

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