Page 42 of Surrender

It sounds like a horror movie. It looks like a horror movie.

My eyes widen as I try to take in the room around me. The bars are backlit with dimmed light so I can see them, and vaguely the outlines of chairs and tables, but then a black figure dashes past me, and I jump, a small scream escaping my tightening throat.

I nervously run to Benji's bar and hide behind it, chest heaving, breaths sawing in and out of my lungs. I can't breathe. My heart races. I'm having a panic attack.

A chair overturns somewhere nearby, and I startle again, squeezing my eyes shut and clasping my hands over my ears.

"Ser?" Benji's words are muffled, underwater, and I can't reply.

"Shit." A moment later. "Boss, I think something's wrong with Serenity."

I focus on my breathing until another scream, a thump, and then skin slapping against skin makes my eyes water and my body tremble. I've never been sexually assaulted, and I logically know the women aren't being hurt. But this is every one of my nightmares wrapped into one, painful moment.

"Shit." Declan's voice has my eyes springing open. Together we reach for each other. He's become my safe place. The only person who sees me as something other than defective.

He presses his hands against mine, signaling me to keep them over my ears. He tucks me against his side, and I turn my face into his suit jacket. The smell and warmth of him have me relaxing just a bit.

I'm ushered to his room where he shuts and locks the door behind him. I lower my hands and stare at him, waiting for him to make it better. There's a loud bang on the door as a body or two falls into it and I jump again, a small whimper escaping. I reach for him, fisting his lapels in my hands.

"Fuck!" Declan spits out before his large hand wraps around my neck, and he pushes my back against the wall next to him. He's so close our noses could touch.

He's not hurting me, but the hand around my throat has brought all of my attention to the skin-on-skin contact and the scowling man in front of me.

"My eyes, Ser. Look at my eyes." Deep forest-green irises look back at me. From this close, I can see black, blue and even gold flecks. They're gorgeous. And I feel my body relaxing and my breaths evening out. I have one purpose, and that's to obey.

"That's it, baby. You're doing so good for me. Deep breath in, deep breath out."

My blood pressure drops at his praise at the same time as my panties dampen.That's it baby, you're doing so good for me.I would do anything,anythingfor this man's praise.

I follow his breaths as he walks me through it. The horror happening outside this room seems further away, unable to touch me. Declan won't let anyone hurt me. He's protected me before, I know he'd do it again. And giving up that fear does something to me. It feels like a weight lifts off of my chest.

"Kneel."

I don't hesitate a millisecond before I drop to my knees for him, head cast down, palms up, like I'd seen others in the club do. It's pure submission. I don't know how he knew I needed this, but I do. To give up my fear, my stress, my anxiety to someone else. To submit and know that I can trust him to take care of me. My chest vibrates with happy nerves this time and grateful tears gather on my cheeks. For the first time in maybe my entire life my brain quiets, as if it knows it doesn't have to overthink every tiny interaction. It doesn't have to wonder about the history of kinks or subs and doms or the psychology behind it. It doesn't have to wonder if he really likes me or not. It doesn'thave to obsess over the last time I was socially awkward and convince me no one could truly like me.

I may be crying, but a smile spreads across my lips.

Declan caresses the back of my hair affectionately when he notices my tears. "Ser?"

I lean into the contact, before looking up at him, a serene smile on my face. "Yes, sir?"

He frowns; his brows furrowed. He looks like he wants to say a million things, but when another woman screams, and I press my forehead against his slacks-covered thigh, he shifts gears. The hand not on my head digs his phone out of his pocket.

"I'm having Joseph come and get you. You shouldn't be working tonight. I'm sorry I didn't think of it earlier."

I know, as a sub, I'm not technically supposed to initiate anything, but I can't help myself. I need more touch, more contact. I slide one hand around his pant cuff and up his dress socks to touch his calf. I run my hand gently up and down the inside of his calf, reveling in the feel of him.

His conversation with Joseph seems far away as I'm lost in the euphoria of this moment. He's holding my head tenderly. I'm touching him in the way he only lets me touch him these last two months. I've watched women approach him in The Envelope, but he has politely declined any advances. And my fears and panic attack are long forgotten. I'm safe in this submission. I'm safe, and cared for, and maybe for the first time in my life I feel like I can breathe. That I'm not carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. Like every decision I make isn't life or death. Food or starvation. God, is this how the rest of the world feels? It's freeing. It's enlivening. It's addictive.

"Stand up. Joseph's at the door."

I do gratefully, eyes still cast down. After everything he's done for me, I'll submit. I'll be good. I'll be the best sub he's ever had. I'll make him happy.

Declan turns, unlocks his office door and while I expected Joseph to be at the front door, he's here, at Declan's door.

"Take her home. Make sure she's safe," he commands.

"You're not coming?"

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