Total pages in book: 170
Estimated words: 160166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
My heart races even faster. A lightheadedness takes over at the idea of having all these things used on me. I can trust him. I’m sure I can trust him. But something in my body isn’t so sure. I just want to leave.
There’s a knock at the door. Saving me, telling me I should go now. That I’m not in the right mindset for this. I can’t shake the feeling of Travis’s hands on me and I don’t want to do this right now.
Fuck, I thought I was long over this. It takes everything in me not to cry. At the disappointment in myself, at the shame, at the fact that Travis did such a number on me.
I just want to be okay.
“One minute,” Declan calls. Then his eyes are on mine again. “I have an appointment, so you’ll have to wait. You haven’t chosen your punishment, so this may count if you handle it well.” His tone sounds hopeful. His lips even kick up into a smirk as he brushes my hair back. I could lean into that touch, his strength and his warmth, but he pulls away too quickly.
“You’ll sit how I place you and stay just like that. It’s called mental bondage.”
Blinking, I question, “Mental?”
“Because the restraints are psychological.” Declan leads me back to his desk and guides me to the floor so I’m kneeling.
“I just … stay like this?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“For as long as I’d like.” The calm comes with this so-called punishment. Hell, I think I need it. Just a moment to sit and think. To get these thoughts out of my head rather than letting them stew.
Getting down on my knees, I peek up at him in all his authority. His hand runs down my hair as if he’s petting me and I’m able to lean into it for just a moment. I shouldn’t feel so comforted, but I do. It’s Declan. Declan takes my hair in his fist, tilting my head and bends down to whisper in my ear. “You are mine, aren’t you?”
It doesn’t hurt, to be gripped and moved by him as if I’m a doll. “Yes,” I whisper.
He pulls out a plush cushion and tells me to sit. It’s black velvet and at least two by two feet. It’s simple. Kneeling. Sitting. But I’m naked. He arranges my hands on my thighs and tips my chin up so I’m staring straight ahead. “Do not look at the floor,” he orders.
“Yes, Sir.”
My gaze shifts to my dress forming a puddle in front of his desk. He doesn’t cover me, or make any move to grab my clothes as he calls out for whoever is at the door to come in. My face heats with embarrassment when the door opens and a man comes in. He sees me on the floor with a flick of his eyes.
I have no idea who he is.
Declan gestures to the desk like I’m not even there. “Have a seat.”
“I like the furniture,” the other man comments with a quiet laugh. Declan doesn’t laugh. The look he gives the man is deadly.
The other man takes a seat across from Declan, and the conversation begins. Something about the docks and when a shipment is coming.
The news anchor comes to mind.
Every sordid rumor flicks through my mind. I can’t stop it and when I do, I wish I hadn’t.
It doesn’t take long for my mind to fly back to when I was with Travis.
I wish I could stop thinking about him. Wish I could stop remembering everything he did. He used to embarrass me, purposefully. The memories are upsetting enough, and now I’m naked on a cushion. My skin heats, and my heart pounds. I swallow heavily. Declan and the man don’t seem to notice my dilemma. Whoever he is, he keeps glancing over at me.
“What do you think?” Declan says, and it takes a moment for me to register that he’s not speaking to me. Both of the men stare down at me expectantly.
“Is she in trouble?” he questions.
“A bit of a punishment, yes.” The man readjusts in his seat and nods with a grin. “She’s doing very well if you ask me.”
I hate that they talk about me in front of me. This is different from before. I nearly speak up, moving from this position until Declan’s hand cups the back of my head and he says, “She’s a good girl. Just had a moment earlier.”
It’s odd to feel such relief, such warmth, while also anger. A moment. It was just a moment for him. It’s not one moment for me. My throat tightens, my emotions at war with one another.
The stranger asks, “Is she a new pet?”
“She’s mine.” Declan’s tone is severe as he takes his hand away. I love his possessiveness, but it’s not enough.
The conversation continues without me as the focus.