Page 154 of Callan

A therapist might say it’s about my survival instinct, which has been refined in challenging situations over the years.

I can’t afford not to have control over a situation.

It makes me go crazy.

Panic floods me, my brain goes haywire, and my thoughts turn into chaos.

It’s bad.

But something happened last night.

As intimidated as I was, having my body under his felt like the epitome of empowerment.

On the one hand, I freaked out.

On the other hand, I felt freed and relieved.

You’d think it was only about him fucking me.

Well, it wasn’t.

Things happened to us last night––to me, at least––and I wish I could feel them again.

“This time, we’ll make it better,” he says.

He must’ve liked it, too.

He must’ve noticed how I tensed up and fought and relished his weight on me at the same time.

How my legs shook when he spread them and entered me repeatedly.

He rounds the bed before entering an adjacent room and returning with a pair of shackles.

He shows them to me, and my eyes go to them as the back of my head hits the pillow.

They dangle from his hand before he unlocks them and slowly slides them around my wrists.

“You have no power over me…” he says quietly. “Except one. You come for me as many times as you want.”

He pins the shackles to the bed and moves away from me while I roll to my side to see him.

“Turn the other way,” he says, his hand latched onto the edge of his towel.

I roll to my other side and peer through the open curtains.

Thick fog hangs over the windows.

He slides next to me, and his naked body touches me shortly after. Goosebumps spread across my skin.

One confident hand brushes my hair to the side, clearing the way for his lips.

He moves even closer, his skin igniting small fires across mine, and presses his lips to the back of my neck.

A shudder moves through me at meteoric speed, and my nipples turn to stone.

His hand travels to my boobs, and then his thumb circles a nipple. He pinches it and sinks his teeth into my shoulder, awakening pulsing pleasure in my core.

Growing hard against my lower back, he splays his fingers over my chest and kneads my breasts with patience and determination.

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