CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Palisade
He was tall, with broad shoulders that filled the doorway. Dark slacks, a black button-down with sleeves rolled to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms. His mask was simple: black leather covering the upper half of his face.
My heart hammered against my ribs as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him with a quiet click.
He turned slowly, giving me time to adjust to his presence. Even with the mask, the sharp line of his jaw was visible, the hint of a beard. Something about his build seemed familiar, but athletic men in Amber Falls weren't exactly rare.
"First time at Sassy's?" His voice was deliberately pitched lower, the standard disguise for masked encounters.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
"First time with a Dom?"
"It's been… a very long time."
He moved closer, each step deliberate. "We'll go at your pace. Nothing happens without explicit consent. Your safe word is 'red'—use it any time, for any reason. Everything stops immediately. Understand?"
"Yes."
"There's also 'yellow' if you need to pause or slow down. Repeat those back to me, Ava."
Hearing the fake name helped. I wasn't Palisade here. I was Ava. Someone who could surrender without consequence.
"Red stops everything. Yellow means pause or slow down."
"Perfect." He was close now. Close enough that I caught his scent. Something woodsy and clean that made my pulse kick up. "I need to know about injuries and physical limitations."
"None."
"Good." His hand came up slowly, telegraphing the movement. When I didn't pull back, he traced my jaw with one finger. The touch was electric. "The restraints and sensory play are your choice. What would make you feel safest tonight?"
My body already hummed with anticipation. "No blindfold. I want to see. But… the restraints. I'd like those."
"Then that's what we'll do." His thumb brushed over my lower lip, and I shivered. "But first, what brings you here tonight? What do you need?"
The question was unexpected. Intimate.
"I need to let go," I whispered. "To stop thinking. To stop being in control of everything."
"Then tonight, I'll take that burden from you." His voice dropped even lower, and heat pooled in my belly. "Tonight, you belong to me. You surrender, and I'll give you exactly what you need. Understand?"
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
The words came easier than expected. "Yes, Sir."
"Good girl."
Those two words shouldn't have affected me so powerfully, but my body responded immediately. My nipples tightening, breath quickening, wetness gathering between my thighs.
His hands settled on my waist, confident. "You're trembling. Nervous or excited?"
"Both."
"Perfect." His hands slid up my sides, deliberate and slow. "Fear and arousal light up the same parts of the brain. Right now, your body can't tell the difference." His palms cupped my breasts through my dress. "But this? This is definitely arousal."
My breath caught. Through the thin fabric, the heat of his hands, the calluses on his palms. Working hands.
"I'm going to undress you now," he said, his breath warm against my ear. "Slowly. And you're going to stand here and let me look at you."
The zipper descended, cool air hitting my spine as the dress parted. It pooled at my feet, leaving me in only the black lace bra and panties I'd chosen specifically for tonight.
"Beautiful," he breathed, his hands skimming up my sides. This time, when he cupped my breasts, only thin lace separated his skin from mine. "Fucking perfect."
He unhooked my bra with practiced ease. When his hands returned to my bare breasts, I gasped. His palms were warm, slightly rough, and the way he touched me made my knees weak.
Cupping my breasts, his thumbs brushed over my nipples until I was trembling. Then his hands left me entirely, and I almost whimpered at the loss.
"Turn around," he said, voice low and commanding. "Slowly."
I obeyed, turning until my back was to him. I felt his gaze on my skin like a physical touch.
"Hands behind your back."
I brought my hands behind me, wrists crossing.
"Good. Now keep them there. Don't move unless I tell you."
The command settled over me like a heavy weight. My wrists stayed crossed without restraints, held there only by his words.
By my choice to obey.
He circled me slowly, every sense heightened by my exposed position. As he circled, the air shifted, and I could feel his warm breath inches from my skin.
"You're shaking," he observed, his voice coming from behind me now.
"I can't help it," I admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't want you to." His hand traced up my spine with a feather-light touch. "Every tremor tells me exactly what you need. Your body's already surrendering, even if your mind hasn't caught up yet.
"You're doing so well," he murmured. "Standing here. Vulnerable. Trusting me to take care of you."
"Yes, Sir."
"Are you wet for me, Ava?"
My face burned. "Yes, Sir."
"Show me."
I froze. "What?"
"Touch yourself," he said, voice dropping even lower. "Show me how ready you are."
My hands were still behind my back. I hesitated.
"That's not a request," he said, his voice harder now. "Move your hands. Touch yourself. Let me see what I do to you."
Slowly, I brought my hands forward. My fingers were shaking as I trailed one hand down my stomach, over my hip, between my thighs.
I was soaked.
My fingers slid through my folds easily, and I gasped at the contact.
"That's it," he said, voice rough. "Don't stop. Let me watch."
I circled my clit, my breath coming faster. I couldn’t believe I was touching myself while a masked stranger watched. But the command in his voice stripped away any shame. There was only obedience. Only sensation.
"Are you always this wet?" he asked. "Or is this just for me?"
"Just for you," I gasped.
"Good girl."
Those words sent a fresh wave of heat through me. My fingers moved faster, chasing the building pressure.
"Stop."
I froze immediately, hand still between my thighs.
"Good," he said, satisfaction in his voice. "You listen so well. Put your hands at your sides."
I did, trembling with need. My body screamed for release, for touch, for more.
"That's what surrender feels like," he said, stepping closer. I could feel his heat at my back now. "You give me control. You show me what you need. And I decide when you get it."
His hand slid around my waist, pulling me back against him. He was hard against my lower back, and the knowledge that I affected him, too, made something inside me clench with need.
"The restraints are a choice," he said against my ear. "I could make you come right now with just my words. Make you stand here and touch yourself until you shatter. But I want to tie you down. I want you completely at my mercy. Understand?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Do you want that?" His hand splayed across my stomach possessively. "Do you trust me enough to bind you? To make you helpless?"
I should say no. I should keep some kind of control.
But I didn't want control. That's why I was here.
"Yes," I breathed. "I trust you."
"Then show me." He turned me to face the bench. "Bend over. Arms stretched out."
"Please," I heard myself say.
"Please, what?" His mouth was at my neck, lips tracing the tendon there. "Use your words, Ava. Tell me what you want."
"Touch me. More."
His fingers tightened on my nipples. It wasn’t quite pain, but intense enough to make me arch into his touch. "Like this?"
"Yes."
He did it again, rolling the sensitive peaks between his fingers, and I moaned.
"That's it," he murmured. "Let me hear you. I want to know every sound you make when I touch you."
One hand stayed on my breast while the other traced down my stomach, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of my panties. He didn't rush, just traced where my thigh met my body, so close to where I needed him.
"You're already wet," he said, satisfaction in his voice. "Soaking through these. Do you want my fingers inside you, Ava?"
"God, yes."
"Not yet." He withdrew his hand, making me whimper. "The bench. Go stand beside it."
I obeyed, my breasts pressed against cool leather, arms extended. He secured my wrists first with the silk ties. They held firm but didn't bite into my skin. Then my ankles, spreading my legs and fastening them to the bench's base.
Completely exposed now, ass in the air, nothing hidden from his view. Instead of fear, all I felt was anticipation.
"Fucking perfect," he said, his voice rougher now. "Do you know how gorgeous you look like this? Bound and spread open for me?"
His hand traced up the back of my thigh, over the curve of my ass. Then he hooked his fingers in my panties and dragged them down as far as the restraints allowed.
"Look at you," he breathed. "So wet you're glistening. You need this, don't you? Need someone to take control."
"Yes," I moaned as his fingers finally touched where I needed them most. He traced through my folds, spreading the wetness, circling my clit without quite touching it.
"Tell me if I'm right," he said, fingers exploring with maddening thoroughness. "You spend all day being the responsible one. Making decisions. Taking care of everyone else. And you're so fucking tired of being in control."
He slid two thick fingers inside me, and I cried out.
"So tonight," he continued, fingers pumping slowly, "you're going to let go. Give me control. And I'm going to make you come so hard you’ll forget everything but this."
He added a third finger, stretching me, and his thumb found my clit. The dual sensation was overwhelming.
"That's it," he said as my hips started moving against his hand. "Take what you need. Fuck my fingers."
I did shamelessly, chasing the pleasure he was building. His fingers curved inside me, hitting that spot that made my vision blur.
"You're close," he observed. "I can feel you tightening. But you don't come until I say so. Understand?"
"Please," I whimpered.
"Not yet." He slowed his pace, keeping me right on the edge. "I want to taste you first."