Page 29 of The Contract

So much control. So many expectations—all threaded through a flimsy strip of silk.

“Why do you need this?” I whisper. “I can just… close my eyes.”

“Because for this kiss,” he says quietly, “I will remove my mask.”

He will?

“And you can’t see my face.”

Again with the face.

No name. No identity.

Just a kiss. A blindfold.

And me—spread-eagle for a total stranger.

For my captor.

Heat flickers low. So much so I have to clench my thighs.

My voice barely scrapes its way out.

Thin. Shaky. Not even recognizable as my own.

“If it’s just a kiss…Can I… can I at least keep my clothes on?”

Flames in his eyes ignite.

“Yes.” No pause. No cruelty. Just a concession that comes so readily, it throws me.

The word hits like a blowtorch between my thighs, and a wrecking ball against the flimsy armor I barely managed to keep in place.

Inside, it’s war.

Fury collides with hope.

Hatred crashes into curiosity.

And fear—fear licks at the heels of something darker.

Something I don’t want to name.

Something hot.

“When you’re ready,” he continues, gaze like fire over ice, “slip it on and lie back.”

Or maybe it’s the way he says it.

That bob in his throat. The flicker in his voice.

The stare.

Control on the edge of collapse.

I bite my lip so hard the taste of metal floods my mouth. It jolts me back just enough to move.

Before I know it, I close my eyes and slip it on.

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