Chapter 14
Rachel
THE GRIP OF KAI’S HAND on my hair eases for a moment before he pulls harder, forcing me to crawl until I am in front of the cross.
I have only seen this type of thing in porn, but I have always liked the idea of trying it.
The room is filled with wonders straight out of the romance books I like to read.
A velvety carpet covers the basement from corner to corner, and red light fills the space.
The walls are a dark maroon shade, and there is a wall with displayed toys that extends from the bottom of the staircase we just came down to the other corner of the room.
A long display of toys of all kinds. Dildos arranged by size, still in their packages.
Some worn-out paddles and some new ones.
Different types of whips and handcuffs are next to them.
But what sparks my interest is the purple rope I see next to the handcuffs.
I have always wanted to try being tied up, but my ex quickly shut down any talk about BDSM.
It’s strange how things sometimes work out.
The man I trusted with every ounce of myself cheated on me and betrayed me, yet here I am with a man I barely know and who I should clearly be afraid of, completely at his mercy as if he didn’t kidnap me hours ago.
And the funniest part of all? I fucking love this.
I love the idea of Kai using me as he pleases.
The idea of being tied to a cross, spanked, and fucked the way I deserve to be.
The idea alone makes my pussy wet. It makes me want to beg for it.
I crave every ounce of pleasure he has to offer me.
He walks around me in a slow circle as he talks. “Do you have any limits, criminal?”
I look up at him. “Not that I know of,” I admit. I don’t know anything about what I like or don’t like. This is all new. It’s a new world displayed in front of me, highlighted by red lights and kinky toys. It’s exciting, but at the same time, it’s scary. A new reality.
“That’s okay, sweet criminal.” His voice is low, almost comforting.
It lacks the authority he had a minute before.
It’s as if he understands. He is being sincere, willing to accommodate my inexperience.
I can’t keep myself from wondering how the hell I found such a man—one who’s willing to play out all of my fantasies and has the nerve to play our little game of cat and mouse.
As if the way we met was the most natural thing to him.
As if our story didn’t start with a crime.
“Have you had any experience with BDSM?” he asks next, and I shake my head.
“That’s okay. We will fix that.” He kneels in front of me, taking my face in his hands. “We will take it slow, one thing at a time. I am here for you, for your pleasure, and I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?”
It’s a heavy question. One I should answer with “no.” I barely know him.
Yet, I do trust him. I trust him without a second guess.
I don’t even have to think about it. I know he won’t hurt me.
Even when he stalked me and showed up at my work unannounced, I knew he would never hurt me.
He is like a golden retriever mixed with a pit bull.
All bark but no bite. Even his little “punishment” at the restaurant was focused on my pleasure.
Mine. He has always focused on my pleasure. “I do,” I answer honestly.
“Good girl.” He praises me with a smile and stands. I don’t move. I know I shouldn’t move without his order. I have read enough books and watched enough porn to know the basic etiquette. I need to wait for his plan, his orders, his command. I need to be his good girl more than I need air.