by Sienna Blake
“I can’t give away all my secrets.” He pauses as if he has realized what he just said. The air grows heavy with the things we are both keeping from each other, the pieces of ourselves we keep locked away. The things that made us who we are but which we never ever talk about.
He clears his throat and continues to plate his food. The tension starts to dissipate and I try to ignore the clamminess it leaves on my skin.
The meal is delicious; the chicken is moist and rich and the roasted vegetables coat my tongue with the flavors of garlic and herbs. As I eat I catch him watching me, a slight crease between his thick dark eyebrows.
“Why are you looking at me like that? You look like… you’re looking for something.”
He wipes his mouth with his serviette and stands. “Perhaps I am.” He takes my hand and leads me to a space on the floor. He drapes one of my hands around his neck and pulls me flush against his body. I have to tilt my head to look into his eyes. His other hand curls around mine as he holds our hands out to the side. The music is still slow, but it has become simple and stripped-back and it glides through the room like a naked creature. As we slide together, my body feels like it’s melting against his.
He’s looking at me again with that probing look.
“So,” I tease softly, “did you find what you were looking for?”
He leans in. Close. So close it makes my heart skip. My eyes flick down to his lips for just a second. I know better. I don’t try to kiss him. I don’t lean in. I just look back up at him, watching him, waiting for him.
He doesn’t lean in to give me our first kiss.
I expect to be angry like I was earlier. I expect to be frustrated. But what he has done for me – turning this dark abandoned place into something wonderful – represents what he’s doing for my soul. I’m so grateful. Right now, I don’t need to ask for anything more. I’m content to just be here.
In that moment I see something change in his eyes. “I just did.”
He lowers his lips to mine.
Chapter 3
At first Caden’s kiss is just a press, tasting of sweet grapes and rosemary. It’s butterflies and falling leaves and it makes my skin tingle like those sparkles of sunlight that dance upon a babbling brook. Then his lips move, achingly slow. They part around my bottom lip drawing it slightly into his mouth.
He’s kissing me. He’s really kissing me. I can barely breathe. I’m afraid to move in case he pulls away.
He draws the tip of his tongue slowly back and forth across my lip trapped between his. I feel that small wet line all the way in my belly. He sucks, starting an energy in me like the distant rumble of earth under hooves.
My bottom lip pops free of his mouth and I whimper at the loss of contact. He rubs the tip of his nose along mine like he’s reassuring me. He licks a line across my lips from one corner to the other. He’s tasting me. He groans. Before he licks me again.
His tongue teases my mouth and at my heart, coaxing it to open for him like a flower. I part my lips for him and he enters me with his tongue. Like a jolt of electricity, I awake. My body lights with fire, aching, consuming fire. I begin to move with him, searching for his taste, exploring his lips and his mouth, tilting my head so our breaths can fuse even more.
More. I need more. My right hand clutches the back of his neck, still terrified that he might take this away. I pull my other hand from his. Like a desperate animal, it skitters across the thickness of his arm towards his chest. He grabs my wrist and wraps it around his neck to join my other hand.
He pulls away for one moment, and I catch a glimpse of his eyes. They are now dark grey-green like a sea in a storm. That dangerous scowl is back on his face as he glares at me with the hunger of someone who needs to consume. “I told you that I wouldn’t be able to taste you without taking more.” His voice is low and threatening, but I’m not scared.
His lips crush back onto mine and he squeezes me against him with so much pressure so that I can barely breathe. There’s so much glorious heated pressure from inside out and outside in. I feel his wide hands spread across the small of my back. God, they are so big they almost fit around me completely. I’m so small and vulnerable under his hands, but somehow I feel strong and powerful. The music becomes deeper, rougher, and it shudders through the air as if it’s making love to it.
I pull away. I need to know, “How much more?” My voice is breathy and shaky, but I stare at him, a challenge in my eyes. How much more will he give me? How much of him will he let me have?
He draws in a deep breath as if to calm himself. His hands come up to hold my face. He holds my gaze and it feels like he is making a promise, “I will only take whatever you’re prepared to give me.”
You can have it all. My body, my heart, my soul. It’s yours, Caden. It’s already yours. But I don’t say this.
I try to grab for him, but he holds me out by my shoulders. I whimper and reach for him again, but he won’t let me touch him. So I run my fingers along his thick forearms, the only part of him my shorter limbs can reach. Oh my God. I have never felt anything so masculine and brutal and it just makes me feel so much more desperate to touch the rest of him.
His eyes flutter closed and he sighs – a sigh that I can feel through the limited contact we have. I wait for him to move, but he doesn’t. He opens his eyes again and I see… fear. Oh God, what’s wrong? My heart skips a beat when I see a frown start to play on his face. “I want to make love to you.”
“Yes,” I cry. The aching need under my skin crackles like electricity.
But the pain doesn’t leave his face. I hold my breath. Something isn’t right. My heart sinks when I realize that it isn’t going to happen. He made me wait three months to kiss him, he is going to keep making me wait to have sex. He keeps me close yet so far away. From both his body and his heart.
I should stop this whole nonsense now. I should walk away from this man who I’m already falling for, who I know will eventually hurt me with how he keeps me at a distance, who hurts me now by literally holding me away from him.
But… I can’t. I am already bound. So I accept whatever is coming.
“I want to make love to you, but…”
“But?” At once I am struck by fear. But what? “Say something, Cade. What’s wrong?”
He shakes his head like he’s trying to shake off this demon who torments him.
“Tell me.” I want to know. I need to know.
“Please don’t think this is about you…” On his face I see an inner tragedy play out. “I just… I’m not sure you’ll really want me…”
He isn’t sure that I want him? My head spins with the absurdity of this statement. How can he say that? He can’t really mean it. He can’t.
But here he is, standing before me, chewing on his lip and watching me with forlorn eyes.
“How could you ever think that?” I whisper and I reach out to stroke his face. He lets me. “I want you so badly. I need you. I need you like I need to breathe.” I press myself back up against him like I am trying to merge us together. “Maybe it’s you who doesn’t want me.”
He hisses through his teeth as I push my hips against his erection. “I haven’t wanted any woman as much as I want you in a long, long time.”
“Then, please, why are we waiting?”
“There’s something I have to tell you but… I’m not sure you’ll still want me anymore.”
“There is nothing you can say that will make me want you less.” I can see in his eyes that he’s still unsure. “Caden, it’s your turn to trust me.”
A softness comes over his face. He nods. “We’ll take it slow, okay? Bit by bit to get you used to it,” he says as his hands explore my thighs over the silk of my dress.
I pull back far enough to frown at him. “Used to what?”
“My needs are… unorthodox. But I would never hurt you,” he adds quickly. “You know that, don’t you?”
I nod.
“Do you trust me? Will you try… for me?”
A small trickle of uncertainty runs down my spine. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
I nod and push a smile to my face. “Okay.”
He nods, but he still looks grim. He pulls away and unwraps my arms from around his neck. “Will you do something for me? Will you hold out your index fingers for me like this?” He holds his fingers chest-level, pointing to each other. I mimic him.
He pulls out a small weaved tube from his pocket. “Do you know what this is?”
I shake my head, still holding my fingers out.
“It’s a Chinese finger trap. Here, let me show you.”
He places one of my index fingers deep into an open end, then pushes my other finger into the other end so that my fingers are almost touching inside the tube. “Now try to pull your fingers apart.”
I do, but the weaving of the trap tightens around my fingers, holding them together. A shiver runs through me and my eyes widen.
“All you have to do to release it is to push your fingers together.”
I do, and the trap loosens its grip on me. Before I can take the trap off, he pulls my arms up and over his head. I have to reach up to get them around his neck so my fingers pull the trap tight again. He leans into me filling up my senses with his presence.
“Tell me, is that so bad to have your fingers trapped like that?” he asks, concern marring his face as he studies me.
I shake my head. “Not when they are trapped around you.”
This time his kisses almost hurt. His lips pressing against mine are insistent. Demanding. Taking. His tongue forces its way between my lips, searching for mine, and they fight one another in a provocative war. I ache to touch him. As I tug, the grip around my fingers tightens so my hands are trapped out of reach.
His hands are free to roam my body. They close over my breasts through the satin, alternating between tender caresses which make my skin awaken to an aching sensitivity, and hard pinches of my nipples which send throbs to my core. Each one heightening the sensation of the other. I buck against him.
His hands run down my side and round my ass. He lifts one of my legs and hooks it around his waist so that my most tender spot presses up against his hardness making me gasp. My skirt is forced to skim up my thighs revealing where my stockings hook into my garters. With one arm he holds me against him. His other hand runs up and down my lifted leg, pulling and flicking the garter straps against my thigh, causing small exquisite snaps of pain. I moan. I’m sure he can feel I’m soaking through my lace panties.
Holding my hip still, he rocks his hips gently and slowly against me, telling me that he’s controlling the pace. My lace rubs along the length of his hardness and my insides spasm with pleasure. I moan into his mouth. God, please, more.
And we rock. He moves faster. I swear my underwear is just going to burn away from all this heat and friction. My head and my body are almost hurting from all this pressure inside. God, I just need him.
He stops, letting out a grunt. He lowers my leg and pulls my hands from around his neck. “Stay here.”
What. The. Hell?
“You’re leaving me?” I can feel myself shaking with an immediate cold rage.
“I’m coming back. Promise. Then we’re getting naked. Very. Very. Naked.”
Fuck. I shiver. “Okay. Hurry up.”
As he walks across the room I notice a metal contraption attached to the far wall that I haven’t noticed before. It looks like a fire hose wrapped around a wheel, except this isn’t a fire hose. It has a thick chain and some sort of pulley up in the roof that the chain extends up to. He starts to wind something and I hear the rattling of metal and clinking from above. I look up. It’s the other end of the chain hanging from the ceiling. On the end is a pair of leather straps with rigid grips. Oh. My God.
I yank against my wrists which are held together in chains, bleeding from the rough cold iron. The blackout curtains shut out the world, the only light coming from the dimmed wall lamps of Jacob’s bedroom.
In this dark abandoned building, I stare, frozen to the spot while Caden lowers the chain towards me. The clinking stops and the loose chain end thrashes a little before falling into a soft sway. I look over to see him walking back towards me.
“Rule number two: I can touch you but you can’t touch me.”
“You want to restrain me,” I choke out as he stops before me.
“Jacob, please,” I croak. My mouth is dry. I need water. My stomach is tight from not having eaten. “I can’t take anymore.”
“No.” I can hear the scowl in his voice. I try not to whimper as he wraps his fingers through my hair and pushes his cock past my lips. “I will tell you when you’ve had enough.”
I shrink back from Caden, feeling a tremble taking me over. I can’t. No. I can’t. I start to back away. “No. You can’t force me−”
“I’m not forcing you. I would never force you. This will always be your choice. But this rule is very important to me. We can take it slowly. I won’t close the straps around your wrist. You can just be restrained by the finger trap. You can push your fingers together and release yourself at any time. If you do so, I’ll stop.”
He can touch me but I can’t touch him. I look between the chain and him, my head whipping back and forth in a shake. “No restraints.”
“I can’t make love to you unless your hands are bound.”
“Why?”
A flare of darkness behind his eyes makes them look black. A cold chill blows across the heated desire still running through my body.
“I would never hurt you, you know that. I have my reasons for needing this, but I can’t explain them to you. You just have to trust me. You do trust me, don’t you?”
Manipulative bastard. I already said I trusted him before we entered the abandoned building and now I feel like I can’t go back on my word. Slowly, slowly, he is pushing out the edge of my trust. Slowly, slowly, he is walking me towards something in the dark that I cannot see.
I eye the restraints. I eye him. I rub my thumb over the weaved trap still clinging to one of my index fingers.
“I trust you,” I whisper, “But…” It’s too familiar.
“If you want me to stop at any point, it doesn’t matter how far into it we are, just tell me and I’ll stop.”
“What if you don’t?” I ask quietly.
“Do you want a safe word?”
“What’s a safe word?”
He frowns. “A safe word. It’s your control. You just say it if you want things to stop and I’ll stop.”
I blink, my mind getting used to the idea. A safe word. Caden is giving me a safe word, a gift.
I hear him growl. “No one ever gave you a safe word?”
A shot of heat hits the back of my eyeballs and I look away before I start to cry. No one ever gave me a safe word. I was never given control, I always had to take it and even then, it was a lie. Not even when I was fucking those men in the booths of Bound did I ever really have control.
Caden’s palms come up to cup my face and he pulls up so that I’m looking at him. Against the firmness of his hands I realize I’m shaking. He peers at me. “I know this seems so messed up. I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you… everything. I wish I could give you… more, but I can’t. I want to love you. But this is the only way I know how. It’s your choice. If you can’t accept this… me… I understand. I won’t be mad.”
He is broken inside just like I am. Beautiful broken pieces. We are both broken pieces, but together we can fight to be whole.
The look in his eyes is so tender and pleading that my heart aches for him. The reason why doesn’t matter right now. I want him, Caden Thaine, broken pieces and all. And I want him to cherish my broken pieces.
I nod and step away from him, slipping out of his hands so that I’m standing directly under the chain. This close I can see that the restraints are made of two leather cuffs meant to buckle around the wrists. Above them are two hand grips for the restrainee to hold onto. I lift
my arms as if I’m asking him to take off my shirt. Instead I’m asking him to help me restrain myself. The love on his face cracks open the shell of pain across his features when he realizes what I’m doing. For him. For us.
He takes a step before me. “Thank you,” he whispers as he traces his fingers up the undersides of my arms before maneuvering my hands onto the grips. I hold the foamy grips with my fingers except for my index fingers, one finger still in the end of the trap. Caden pushes my other index finger into the other side of the trap. As he promised, he doesn’t buckle the cuffs but leaves them open.
I force myself to take a calming breath before I test the Chinese finger trap. He’s right. I’m forced to stand with my arms up above me while my fingers are in the trap, but if I push my fingers in I can loosen it and free myself.
“Are you okay?” He’s watching me with concern, as if at any moment I might freak out.
My resolve firms. If this is how he wants to make love to me – no, if this is the only way he can make love to me, I will accept it. I have accepted it. I’ll do this for him. I’ll prove to him that he can trust me and that I trust him. Because one day I may need him to understand why I am broken.
I smile. “I’m okay. I trust you.”
He leans down to kiss me, but before his lips reach mine he pauses. He pulls back with a frown on his face and makes a displeased noise in his throat. He starts to walk around me.
“What’s wrong?”
“This dress.”
I look down. I can hear his footsteps echoing around me. “What about it?”
He stops before me, but this time he has a smirk on his face. “It’s still on you.”
He moves in close so that gorgeous smirk takes up most of my vision. His hands reach around me. I hear the zip opening down my back and it makes me shiver against him like a baby bird. My dress peels away from my body and drops on the dirty floor. He doesn’t even give it a glance when he lifts my legs out of it then kicks it aside.
“My dress!”
“I’ll buy you a new one.” The roughness of his voice reverberates in my most sensitive places. “I’ll buy you a dozen.”
