Page 105 of Unexpected Redemption

Quite possibly, this was a colossal mistake.

Yet I’m too damn stubborn to quit.

Ineedthis.

I can fucking do it. I am not broken.

Once upon a time, I loved doing this with him. Craved it

When he first tied my hands together, I was fine. He talked to me the whole time, and I watched his face as he worked, relying on his presence to soothe me. He suggested stopping at that point, but I’m a damn mule. A persuasive one.

So I coaxed him into adding my forearms into the mix instead of just my wrists, then told him I wanted to do a standing suspension with only my upper body attached to the rig.

Like a dumb donkey.

And here I am, a breath away from bursting into tears or blacking out.

Tomer finishes attaching my bound wrists over my head to the apparatus in his room. Or rather,ourbedroom.

The realization sets in that I’m bound to something. Panic explodes inside me like a bomb is detonated.

Itrybreathing normally, but it’s taking all my concentration to prevent my body from trembling. To fix my breathing, I’ll have to redirect my focus away from my other efforts, and the shudders will overpower me.

Then he’ll stop, which is the opposite of what my stubborn ass wants him to do.

My heart slams wildly in my chest, and my legs wobble.Shit. I might pass out.

Breathe, Lettie, breathe.

To push past this fear, I need to be strong.

Well, stronger.

Tomer’s back in front of me, my other senses tracking his movement. I keep my eyes closed to shield my rising panic.

He places his warm palms on my cheek. “Talk to me, Lettie baby.”

A serrated exhale forces its way out of my chest, and an involuntary shake rolls through my shoulders.

“That’s it. I’m taking you out, sweetness. Just focus on my voice. You’ll be free in a few seconds.”

My right eye attempts to pop open, but my irrational fears over being restrained—even by the man I love and trust most in the world—are too numerous to let my vision focus, so I slam it shut again.

“Why are you stopping? I’m f-f-fine,” I lie like a rug.

Not sure why I even bother fudging the truth. He can see through me like a pane of glass.

“You’re panicking. I’m almost done with the last knot. Count to three with me, and your hands will be down. One. Two.Three.” As promised, the rope falls to the floor, and he lowers both my hands, leaving them in front of my waist.

Immediately, he goes to work unwrapping my forearms while placating me in soft whispers. “I’m here with you. You’re safe. Your wrists and hands will be free in a few more seconds. Just count for me. I’m so proud of you, Lettie. You’re doing so well.”

“No, I’m not,” I cough through a rapidly brewing sob. “I’m not doing well. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Fuck this. I’m gonna cut you free, sugar bear. Just breathe with me. I’m right here with you. Not going anywhere.” He grabs his safety sheers off the dresser and begins slicing through the remaining bands from the middle of my forearms up to my elbows. “Count with me, sugar. One. Two. Three...”

I try to count along, but I’m sobbing too much. My hands spring apart by the time he gets to seven.

“There you go, Lettie baby. All free.” He rubs his palms along the length of my forearms briskly, then opens my arms to the sides, showing me that I’m no longer restrained. “You’re fine. See? Nothing holding you. I’m here, and you’re safe. Talk to me, sweet girl. Let me hear your voice.”

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