Page 54 of Surrender

"Jesus, fuck, Ser."

She sits and waits for my command; my logical brain has barely taken back over. I feel like I have to violently pull myself back into the scene.

"What a good fucking girl you are, holding my cum on your tongue." I caress her hair again and she leans into my touch, eyes fluttering shut, as if my cum, a touch and a little bit of praise is everything she could ever want.

"Do you want to swallow? Keep it all for yourself?"

The gleam in her eye is intense, determined, demanding.

"You may swallow, Ser," I say before murmuring another "Good fucking girl."

She doesn't know the kind of instinctual, possessive, caveman thoughts I had as I came.

And she can never know.

Chapter thirty-one

Serenity

"Ihave a favor to ask you," Declan says as he holds my elbow and tugs me into one of the hallways of The Envelope.

I don't know if he knows, but I'm beginning to suspect he knows I would do anything for him.

"Of course." I don't even have to ask what it is. I know I'll do anything for this man.

"I forgot I'm hosting a shibari demonstration tonight."

Oh! I remember researching about this once I got my computer. It's a practice that was originally a Japanese form of torture, of restraining a prisoner so tightly they couldn't move.

It's easy to see how it would translate into bondage.

"It doesn't feel right to rig someone else..." he says in an uncharacteristically self-conscious way.

Ah. It makes sense. We still haven't communicated about boundaries and expectations, but I've come to learn that actions speak louder than words with Declan, and what I know about his actions is telling. He fired his naked housemaid, has rejected every advance a woman in The Envelope makes, and takes mehome every night. I don't believe he's been with anyone else since I moved in.

And with how we're exploring submission and sex together, I think we're exclusive.

Rigging and domming someone else doesn't feel right to him.

"Can I take a break and do it for you?"

In an instant, his shoulders sag in relief. A moment of mutual understanding passes between us, and I can see how relieved he is that he didn't have to spell it out for me.

I know he's fighting whatever is growing between us, and talking about it would make us have to face it. So instead, we both pretend everything is fine and go about our days.

The uncertainty of it all still makes my mind spin on a loop, but it's not a doom spiral. More like a friendly merry-go-round of possibilities with him.

"I'll make sure it's a simple one. And you can wear what you're wearing."

I nod, and he leads me to the changing room behind the stage, with a large, warm hand on my lower back.

The touch is strangely intimate for the club. Normally, we keep things distant and professional here, opting to keep anything sexual in the safety and privacy of our own home.

I let him usher me through the curtain and onto the stage. The lights blind me for a moment and are hot against my face. To our right I see a table with a long, white cloth with several bundles of thin red rope.

As my eyes adjust to the light, I plaster on a tight, fake smile to cover my nerves. Sitting in my section is Volkov, and his eyes look like they want to burn Declan alive.

Did Declan do this on purpose? Am I caught in some sort of rich guy pissing match? Is he staking a claim on me in front of Volkov? Does he see the same look of anger that I do?

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