Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
DARIO
Three days after the rescue operation, I can't stop thinking about my conversation with Judith.
Her simple "yes" when I asked if she'd thought about submission echoes in my mind during quiet moments in the workshop.
The awareness between us has shifted from polite distance to a current running beneath every interaction.
I sand the edge of a mahogany console table, focusing on the repetitive motion to ground myself. Normally, working with wood centers me. Lately, my thoughts keep straying to the woman currently occupying my guest room.
The woman who hasn't given me an answer yet.
I've been careful to give her space, to maintain the boundaries of our arrangement. But each time our eyes meet across the dinner table, each time our fingers brush as we pass the salt, I feel that boundary weaken.
Micah called this morning to confirm details for the tree lighting ceremony tomorrow night.
The entire town will be there, watching us play the happy newlywed couple.
The thought of Judith pressed against my side, pretending affection while this unresolved tension simmers between us, tests my control in ways I hadn't anticipated.
I set down the sandpaper, running my palm over the smooth wood surface. Like everything in my life, I approach furniture making with precision and care. Each piece meticulously designed, methodically executed. No room for error or impulse.
Unlike the situation with Judith, which feels increasingly unpredictable.
The workshop door opens, letting in a blast of cold air. Judith steps inside, bundled in one of my sweatshirts that swallows her slender frame. The sight of her in my clothing does things to me I'm not prepared to examine.
"Sorry to interrupt." Her breath clouds in the cold air of the workshop. "I was wondering what time we need to leave tomorrow. For the tree lighting."
"Six." I set aside my tools, giving her my full attention. "It's about an hour drive, weather permitting."
She nods, but doesn't leave. Instead, she moves further into the workshop, eyes taking in the various projects in progress. Her curiosity is something I've come to appreciate. She observes everything with sharp intelligence, cataloging details others might miss.
"These are beautiful." She runs her fingers along the curve of a half-finished chair back. "You're very talented."
"It's just practice."
"False modesty doesn't suit you." Her lips curve. "You know exactly how good you are."
I study her face, the slight flush on her cheekbones, the way her eyes hold mine with newfound boldness.
"Have you made your decision, Judith?"
"Yes." She draws a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. "I've been thinking about it."
"And?"
"And I want to know what it's like."
My body responds instantly to her words, heat pooling low in my stomach. "What what's like, exactly?"
"Submission." She meets my gaze steadily. "With you."
The workshop suddenly feels too small, the air between us charged with possibility. "That's not something to enter into lightly, Judy."
The nickname slips out without thought. I've been calling her that in my mind for days now, the softening fitting the woman I'm coming to know beneath the polished exterior.
"I know." She doesn't correct the name, seemingly unaware of the shift. "But I've been thinking about little else since I found that room."
I approach slowly, giving her time to retreat if she chooses. She stands her ground, chin lifting slightly as I stop before her. "Our arrangement is temporary."
"I know that too."
"And you still want to explore this?"
"Yes." Simple, direct. "Do you?"
I study her face, looking for any sign of hesitation or uncertainty. Finding none, I make my decision. "Come to my bedroom tonight. Nine o'clock."
Her eyes widen slightly, but she nods. "What should I wear?"
"Nothing complicated." I brush a strand of hair from her face, watching her pupils dilate at the simple touch. "And Judy? Once you enter that room, you follow my instructions. Completely. Understood?"
"Yes." Her voice drops to nearly a whisper.
"If you change your mind between now and then, that's fine. No questions asked, no explanations needed." I step back, creating necessary space. "But if you show up, I'll assume you're sure made your decision."
"Nine o'clock." She repeats, a small smile playing at her lips. "I'll be there."
The hours until nine crawl by with excruciating slowness. I finish my work, take a long shower, and prepare the bedroom meticulously. The playroom downstairs would intimidate her for a first experience. My bedroom offers a more neutral territory while still being my domain.
I select several items from my collection, placing them discreetly beside the bed. The blindfold, soft restraints, massage oil, and a small vibrator. Options, not requirements. I light several candles, dim the overhead lights, and wait.
At precisely 8:58, there's a soft knock at my door.
"Come in."
Judith enters, wearing black leggings that cling to her curves and a simple tank top. Her hair falls in loose waves around her shoulders, freshly washed and smelling of vanilla. The sight of her, nervous but determined, sends blood rushing south.
"Close the door. Lock it." My voice drops lower, authority coming naturally.
She complies without hesitation, then turns to face me. I'm seated in an armchair beside the bed, watching her intently.
"Before we begin, we need to establish some basics." I keep my tone matter-of-fact despite the hunger building inside me. "Safe words. Green means continue, yellow means slow down, red means stop everything immediately. If you say red, everything ends without question. Understood?"
"Yes." Her voice is steady despite the visible flutter of her pulse at her throat.
"What's your safe word if you need to stop?"
"Red."
"Good girl."
The simple praise brings a flush to her cheeks. Interesting. I file that information away for later use.
"Come here."
She crosses the room to stand before me, close enough to touch but not touching. Her scent surrounds me.
"Kneel."
Her eyes widen slightly, but she lowers herself gracefully to her knees, looking up at me with a mixture of uncertainty and arousal.
"Have you ever fantasized about kneeling for a man, Judy?" I keep my voice soft but commanding.
"Yes." The admission comes with a deepening flush.
"Tell me."
She hesitates, then says, "I've imagined surrendering control. Being told exactly what to do. How to please someone."
"And that excites you."
"Yes." She meets my gaze directly. "Being strong everywhere else in my life makes me want to surrender here."
Her insight impresses me. Many submissives never articulate that fundamental truth so clearly.
"I'm going to touch you now." I lean forward, brushing my fingers along her jawline. "You'll remain still unless I instruct you otherwise. Understood?"
"Yes."
"Yes who?"
She swallows. "Yes, Dario."
"Good." I trace the outline of her lips, watching them part slightly at my touch. "Tonight I want to learn your body. What makes you respond. What makes you beg."
Her breath catches audibly.
"Would you like that, Judy? To beg for my touch?"
"I don't know." Her honesty continues to impress me. "I've never begged for anything in my life."
"There's a first time for everything." I smile slowly. "Stand up and take off your clothes."
She rises, hands moving to the hem of her tank top before hesitating. Not embarrassment—I can read her well enough now to know that—but the significance of the moment.
"Second thoughts?" I keep my tone neutral, giving her space to choose.
"No." She pulls the tank top over her head in one fluid motion, revealing a black lace bra that contrasts beautifully with her brown skin. "Just... absorbing the moment."
"Wise." I lean back, making no move to touch her yet. "Continue."
She hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her leggings, pushing them down her legs and stepping out of them. The matching black lace panties beneath reveal more than they conceal.
"All of it."
Her hands move behind her back to unhook her bra, letting it fall away. Her breasts are full and perfect, nipples already hardening in the cool air of the bedroom. When she slides her panties down, revealing the neat triangle of dark curls between her thighs, I have to fight for control.
"Fucking stunning." The words come without thought, genuine appreciation rather than calculated praise.
"Thank you." She stands before me, completely naked yet somehow undiminished by her vulnerability.
"Come here."
She steps between my spread legs, close enough that I can feel her body heat. I place my hands on her waist, feeling the gentle curve, the softness of her skin.
"I want to taste every inch of you." I look up at her, watching her reaction. "I want to learn what makes you whimper, what makes you moan, what makes you scream my name. But first, I want you to tell me what you want, Judy."
She draws a shaky breath. "I want you to show me. Everything. How it feels to truly submit to someone worthy of that gift."
Her words affect me more than I expected, a tightening in my chest that has nothing to do with physical desire. "Get on the bed. Lie on your back, arms above your head."
She complies immediately, the picture of willing submission as she arranges herself as instructed. I stand, moving to the edge of the bed to look down at her. Still fully clothed while she's completely exposed, the power imbalance is deliberate and effective.
"I'm going to blindfold you." I pick up the black silk blindfold from the bedside table. "It will heighten your other senses."
She nods, lifting her head slightly to allow me to secure the blindfold. Once it's in place, I run my fingers lightly down her cheek, her neck, between her breasts, watching goosebumps rise in the wake of my touch.
"Can you see anything?"
"No."