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“Let me guess; you think I need someone to spank me, too. Don’t you?” I quip.
“That too.” He drags my face even closer as he looks down at me. “Someone to punish you when you’re naughty. Like when you run away from me.”
I stare up at him. “And what if I don’t want your protection?”
“Too late. I’m in too far as it is.” His lips brush against mine. “What was my number one rule?”
The words come out slowly, a whispered breath against his lips. “Never, ever tell you no.”
“Exactly.”
And he kisses me.
It’s a gentle but urgent kiss, filled with longing and promise. His lips press against mine, their warmth searing through me like a flame. I can feel the tension in his touch, the weight of his desire mingling with the intensity of his protectiveness. It’s a heady mix that leaves me dizzy and breathless, my heart racing in my chest as I melt into his embrace.
For a moment, time stands still as we lose ourselves in each other, the world around us fading into oblivion. Every brush of his lips against mine ignites a fire within me, awakening a hunger I never knew existed. And as he deepens the kiss, pulling me closer to him, I surrender to the overwhelming tide of emotions crashing over me.
But just as quickly as it began, he pulls away, his eyes searching mine for any sign of hesitation or regret. I see the conflict in his gaze, the war between his need to protect me and his desire for something more.
Then he’s back, kissing me deeply and I kiss him back, losing myself in the moment, in the sensation of his lips against mine. It’s a whirlwind of emotions—fear, desire, uncertainty—all crashing together in a tumultuous storm that threatens to consume me. But in his arms, I find a strange sense of solace, a feeling of safety that I’ve never experienced before.
As our kiss deepens, I feel a sense of surrender wash over me. Surrender to the unknown, to this man who promises protection but also stirs something wild and untamed within me. His hands cradle my face gently, his touch both tender and possessive, a silent promise of safety and danger intertwined.
But even as I melt into his embrace, a small voice in the back of my mind whispers warnings of caution. Can I trust him? Can I give myself over to this intoxicating mix of protection and desire without losing myself in the process?
Without crawling under the false sense of security, then ending up all alone again?
I pull away slightly, our breaths mingling in the cool morning air.
“Come back to my house. I have something to show you,” he says.
Curiosity wins over doubt. I let him take my hand in his big protective one and follow him back into the unknown.
CHAPTER 8
Rockwell
Though the décor varies greatly, every house in the Village shares the same floorplan. On the first floor is a utility laundry room with the gourmet kitchen taking up the rest of the square feet, a garden outside the glass doors at the rear of the dining space. The entirety of the third floor is a massive main bedroom with lavish bath. The second floor has the living room, and across from that a small office.
I gave her the full tour when I first brought her here before she ran away.
All but the office. That door is closed and locked.
I’m grateful for Rockland making us switch to the high-grade home filtration systems last year, cleaning the air and removing all dust and pollutants. At the time, I’d argued a bachelor like me didn’t need the hassle of having technicians infiltrate my space for the time it took to bring in the new equipment, but now, I’m quietly thanking the head of the family for his foresight. Otherwise, I’d be terrified to open this door and have her be attacked by dust bunnies before I get to play with her.
I thought, when I moved into this home, I’d be married. The scars in my memory remind me why I’m not. I had the office outfitted as a submission room. One where I could make my wife my toy, play with her, tease her, until she’s begging for me to take her.
There’s never been a woman in this room. The door’s remained closed since the day I moved in. I haven’t even allowed the cleaner to enter.
It’s never been used.
After what I went through, I chose to focus on work.
Today, I finally have a reason to open it.
She’s standing beside me, her small hand in mine. She looks up at me, her gaze equal parts excitement and nerves. She has no idea what I’m about to show her.
She seems to be holding her breath beside me, no idea what to expect, as I turn the key, unlocking the door. I push it open, clean air welcoming us. I flick on the light to half-power, a warm, dim glow filling the room.
