Chapter 7
Emmett
KADE'S WORDS HANG IN the air between us, heavy with implication. I stare up at him, aware of my near-nakedness, the handcuffs digging into my wrists, and the heat radiating from his body as he hovers above me. Something in his expression has shifted—the familiar cockiness now underlaid with a hunger I’ve never seen before.
My throat goes dry as I realize we’ve crossed some invisible line, and whatever comes next will change everything.
“Advanced material?” I echo, my voice thin.
Kade nods, settling more comfortably onto the bed beside me. His eyes travel down my body. The weight of his gaze feels like a physical touch.
“Do you like this?” he asks, gesturing to my bound wrists. “Being restrained?”
Heat rushes to my face, burning across my skin. The question is too intimate, exposing things I’ve barely admitted to myself. “I…I don’t know. I’ve never…”
“Never been tied up before?” Kade’s lip ring catches the light as he smirks. “Not even in your head?”
I swallow hard. “I’ve thought about it.”
“For how long?”
“Recently,” I manage, unable to hold his gaze. “Very recently.”
Kade shifts closer, the mattress dipping under his weight. “First thing you should know about situations like this—communication is key. Clear, honest communication. What you like, what you don’t like, what you want to try.”
His teacher voice is back, but lower, rougher at the edges. Something about the familiar tone in this unfamiliar context sends a shiver down my spine.
“Have you done this before?” I ask, tugging at the cuffs. “Taken control of someone like this?”
Kade hesitates, then shakes his head. “No. Not like this.” His eyes meet mine, and the raw hunger there makes my breath catch. “But I’ve thought about it too.”
My heart pounds so hard I’m certain he can hear it. “With whom?”
“Who do you think?” he murmurs, one hand moving to rest on my chest. The simple contact burns through me like wildfire.
I’m aware of my growing arousal, my cock hardening beneath the thin fabric of my boxer briefs. Kade’s gaze drops to the obvious bulge, his eyebrow rising.
“I haven’t even touched you yet,” he observes, voice low with something that sounds like satisfaction.
“You don’t have to,” I confess, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “Just this—you seeing me like this—it’s enough.”
“Fuck, Em.” Kade’s jaw tightens, a muscle flickering under the skin. “Have you ever been with a guy before?”
I shake my head. “No. Never.”
“Me neither,” he admits. “This is new territory for both of us.”
We stare at each other, the weight of the admission settling between us. This isn’t just about sex or experimentation—it’s about crossing a line together, stepping into something unknown and potentially life-changing.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask, needing to hear him say it.
Kade’s eyes darken. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. “Let me teach you something new, Golden Boy. Let me show you what it feels like to surrender control.”
A strangled sound escapes my throat. Kade pulls back, studying my face with intense focus.
“Lesson one in submission,” he murmurs, trailing a finger down the center of my chest. “Everything starts with trust.”
His touch is feather-light, testing, exploring. He watches my reactions carefully, noting how my breath hitches when his fingertips graze my ribs, how my muscles jump when he traces my abs.
“You spend so much time in control,” Kade continues, his voice hypnotic. “Every aspect of your life planned, measured, perfected. What happens when you let go? When you give that control to someone else?”
His palm flattens against my stomach, warm and solid. The simple pressure grounds me, anchors me to this moment, to him.
“I’m not very good at letting go,” I admit.
“I’ve noticed.” His hand slides up to my chest, fingers splaying wide. “But you want to, don’t you? You’re tired of always being the responsible one, the perfect one.”
I strain against the handcuffs, not to escape but to feel the restriction. The metal digs into my wrists, the sensation sharp and clarifying.
“Yes,” I whisper.
Kade’s expression shifts. He moves, straddling my thighs, his weight pinning me to the mattress. Both hands press my shoulders down, a display of dominance that makes my cock twitch against my underwear.
“I love seeing you like this,” he says, voice dropping to a register I’ve never heard from him before. “Vulnerable. Wanting. Mine.”
The possessiveness in that last word breaks something open inside me. I arch up against him, seeking more contact, more pressure, more everything.
“Please, Kade,” I gasp, unsure what I’m even asking for.
“Please what?” His thumbs stroke along my collarbone, a gentleness at odds with the firm pressure holding me down.
“Touch me. More.”
Kade’s lips curve into a satisfied smile. “Like this?” His fingers brush over my nipples.
I hiss in response, sensation shooting straight to my groin. He notices, of course he notices, and does it again, the pad of his thumb circling the hardened nub before pinching lightly.
“Fuck,” I groan, hips bucking.
“Look at you,” Kade murmurs, his gaze dropping to the prominent tent in my underwear. “No problem getting it up now, huh? Was it really so impossible with Serena?”
The mention of her name should break the spell, remind me of the awkward failure that led to this moment. Instead, it only highlights the stark difference between then and now—my body’s complete, overwhelming response to Kade that I never felt with her, or any other girl.
“Different circumstances,” I manage, trying for nonchalance and failing.
“Different person,” Kade corrects, his fingers continuing their maddening attention to my chest. His eyes lock with mine, challenging. “Say it.”
I swallow hard. “Different person.”
“Who do you want, Emmett?” He traces lazy circles down my abdomen, hand coming to rest at the waistband of my boxer briefs.
I strain against the handcuffs again, metal clinking against the headboard. “You,” I admit, the word ripped from somewhere deep inside me. “I want you, Kade.”
Something flashes in his eyes—triumph, relief, desire so intense it’s almost frightening. His fingers slip beneath the elastic of my underwear, teasing without giving what I desperately need.
“What would Serena think if she came back right now? If she saw you like this, cuffed to your own bed, begging for your stepbrother to touch you?”
The question should embarrass me, but instead, it sends a jolt of illicit thrill down my spine. “I don’t care,” I gasp. “Let her see.”
Kade rewards my answer by peeling my boxer briefs down, exposing me inch by inch. The cool air hits my heated skin, making me shiver. My cock springs free, fully hard and already leaking at the tip.
He stares, his breath catching. For a moment, he seems frozen, perhaps struck by the reality of what we’re doing. Then his gaze travels back up to my face, determination replacing uncertainty.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Everything,” I breathe. “Anything. Just—please.”
His hands move to the hem of his own shirt, pulling it over his head in one fluid motion.
The sight of his bare torso—lean muscles, tight abs—makes my mouth go dry.
He unfastens his jeans next, sliding them down his legs and kicking them aside together with his socks.
His arousal strains against his black briefs, the outline clearly visible.
Kade’s lips part as he lowers himself beside me, his gaze never leaving mine. I can see the rise and fall of his chest quickening as his hand moves toward me, hesitating for just a moment.
When his fingers wrap around me, I arch up, a strangled sound escaping my throat as he gives an experimental pull from base to tip.
“Uhh, fuck,” I gasp, my hips jerking upward.
“You like that?” he asks, his voice husky with desire.
“Yes. Keep going.”
The confidence in his expression grows as he tightens his grip, establishing a slow, steady rhythm that has me writhing beneath him.
Each stroke sends waves of pleasure coursing through me. I strain against the handcuffs, desperate to touch him in return, but the restraints hold firm.
“Tell me what you want,” Kade commands, his hand continuing its maddening rhythm. “Tell me what you want your stepbrother to do to you.”
The word ‘stepbrother’ sends another jolt of forbidden pleasure through me.
“I want—” My voice breaks as his thumb swipes over my sensitive tip. I gather my courage and meet his eyes. “I want to feel you inside me.”
“Fuck, Em,” he curses, his rhythm faltering. His pupils dilate until his eyes are almost black. “Are you sure? Isn’t this too soon? We’ve never even—”
I bend my legs at the knees, planting my heels against my ass. I let my thighs fall apart, exposing myself completely to him.
“I’ve been thinking about it since our lesson the other day. Since you kissed me on the couch.” I swallow, emboldened by the hunger in his eyes. “I’ve thought about what it would feel like to have you inside me. How you’d stretch me open.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Kade mutters. His grip tightens around my cock, making me gasp.
“We don’t have to,” I add quickly, worried I’ve pushed too far. “If you don’t want to or if you’re not ready—”
“I want to,” he cuts me off. “God, Em, I want to so fucking bad it hurts.”
The raw need in his voice sends heat rushing through me. I need to hear him say it, need to know what’s on his mind.
“Tell me,” I whisper. “Tell me what you want to do to me.”
His tongue darts out to wet his lips, the silver ring glinting in the dim light. “I want to open you up with my fingers. Get you ready for me. And then I’m going to fuck you while you’re still cuffed to this bed. That what you want, Golden Boy?”
“Yes,” I groan, beyond embarrassment now. “God, yes.”
Kade slides off the bed, and for one terrifying moment, I think he’s leaving. Instead, he goes to my bedside drawer, pulling it open with certainty.