Chapter 7 #2
I reached into the vault of my memory and tried to recall the research I’d done into BDSM last year. “Hard limits…those are things that won’t be done under any circumstances, right?”
“Yes.”
My gaze swerved to the wall where he kept his paddles and whips.
The sight of the long and thin one, coiled against the wall like a lethal snake, sent terror into me despite his efforts to use it without anger.
That night replayed in my mind, and I grew even wetter between my thighs. He’d done something to me that night.
The night I’d gone to him on my own.
But that whip…
“I don’t want whips or paddles. Your belt”—I swallowed hard—“is my limit, as long as you don’t use it when you’re mad.”
His attention landed on the whip too, and he frowned.
“You’re scared of the bullwhip.” With a sigh, he dragged his fingers through his hair.
“That’s my fault. I wish I could take back what I did, but I can’t.
” He paused, seeming to consider. “Okay. No bullwhip. We’ll revisit this conversation in a few months. Maybe you’ll change your mind by then.”
I doubted it, but I remained silent.
“What else, Kayla?”
“Nipple clamps.”
“Absolutely not. Those aren’t going anywhere.”
“Why?” I cocked my head and studied him. I was genuinely curious.
“They look sexy as fuck on you.”
They also hurt like hell. “I don’t like them.”
He lowered his hands to my chest, parted the robe, and his eyes wandered over my breasts. I stopped breathing when he bent and sucked a nipple into his mouth.
“Gage…” Just like that, he stole my breath and the last bit of composure I had left. I fisted my hands until my nails bit into my palms. “No clamps,” I mumbled, though my demand would have carried more weight if I hadn’t said it with a moan.
He pulled back, and his eyes rose to meet mine. “This is called compromising. Bullwhip or clamps—you only get one as a hard limit.”
I bit my lip. The clamps hurt, but the whip terrified me. “This isn’t compromising. You’re using my fear against me to get your way.”
“Okay, the clamps will only be used as punishment.”
“You’re an asshole.”
His mouth quirked into a grin. “Calling me names might constitute a punishment.”
“I stand by my previous observation. I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation. You’ll always get what you want.”
He tilted his head. “True. But I do care what you want too. So no bullwhips, and clamps used sparingly. Now what else?”
“I want to see my daughter.”
“Soon. What else?”
I opened my mouth, prepared to mention all kinds of horrible things I didn’t want, but when I thought back to every moment I’d spent with him, nothing formed. My mind was a blank canvas, unnerving me so deeply that I shuddered. Why couldn’t I remember the bad?
Why was the good—the unbelievably good—running through my mind like a hot porno? And then it hit me.
“No anal sex.”
He laughed. “No deal.”
I sprang to my feet and glared at him. “Then rape me again, Gage, because that’s what you’ll have to do. I’m done with this conversation. I’ve told you my limits, but you’ve shot down almost every one of them.” I crossed my arms. “What’s the point?”
He rose to his full height and stood close enough so his breath warmed my face, and his eyes smoldered in that familiar way—the way that made me fear and want him all at once.
I tensed, waiting for him to grab me and force me to the bed.
I was in for it now, since the subject of anal had precipitated this particular standoff.
He leaned down, and I thought he was going to kiss me, but he spoke instead. “No anal,” he said, inches from my mouth. “No anal until you beg me for it.”
“That will never happen.”
“We’ll see.” He snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me against him. “I think we’ve covered hard limits. Now let’s talk about what you do like.”
Oh God.
I gulped. So not going there now. “I want to see Eve.”
“Okay, we’ll continue this conversation later.
Maybe you can show me what you like, though I already have a few ideas.
” His mouth brushed mine, barely a touch but enough to make my pulse thready.
“You’re anxious to see your daughter, and I can understand that.
” He inched back, and his expression grew severe.
New flutters of dread winged in my stomach.
“But I need you to say yes to something before I let you through that door, Kayla.”
“Wh…what is it?”
He reached into his pocket and withdrew a velvet box, and when he flipped the lid open, I thought I’d pass out. “I want you to marry me.”
“No!” I shoved away from him, stumbling as my grip on sanity teetered. “You’re insane. I’m not marrying you!”
He avoided eye contact as he shut the ring box. I couldn’t even recall what the stone had looked like—my mind was too hazed with shock.
“I’m not letting you out of here until you say yes.”
“You wouldn’t.” He’d never terrified me so much. “What would you do with Eve?”
“Let’s hope you never find out.” He strode toward the staircase, and I hurried after him, desperation fueling every step.
“Don’t do this! She needs me.” Tears threatened again, but I held them back. He didn’t respond to them anyway. Not in a way that was favorable to me.
He whirled to face me. “If you come anywhere near these stairs, I’ll tie you to the bed before I leave.”
My body froze. “Please, I’m begging you, Gage.”
“It’s Master. When we’re down here or in our bedroom, you’ll address me as Master.”
Like hell I would.
“Get some sleep,” he barked. “I’ll bring in lunch later, and hopefully by then you’ll have changed your mind.”