Page 53 of Bound

“No.” His voice roughens. “This is about choice.”

My pulse stutters.

Lucian takes out the smallest plug.

It rests in his palm, black and glossy, almost delicate. And terrifying.

His eyes stay on mine. “Tomorrow you will remember to listen to yourself. To Rafe. To the plan. And yes, to me when necessary.”

I look at the plug again. Heat curls through my stomach. “So this is a training exercise? For battle?”

His gaze drops to my lips. “No.”

My breath goes shallow.

His voice deepens. “This is me giving you something you can feel. A reminder that your choices matter. And you can’t go running headfirst into danger, even if you think you’re saving someone.”

He makes kink sound like strategy, strategy sound like devotion, and devotion sound like an order for me to obey.

“That was dangerously close to emotionally healthy,” I whisper, staring at the plug. “In the most twisted way.”

“You wear it because you choose to.”

The words land low in my body. Lower than they should. “Lucian.”

“If you choose it,” he says, “I guide you. I prepare you. I take care of you. And if you decide at any point you do not want it, I stop.”

The room is too quiet. Too warm. The ocean outside is too violent.

Inside this room, my own storm brews. Curiosity. Want. A little bit of nerves. A little bit of wickedness. The wind blows just right and I lift my chin. “Safe words?”

His eyes flash. “If you say, red?”

I answer. “You stop.”

“If you say yellow?” he asks.

“You slow down,” I say.

“Color now?” he asks.

I look down at the plug. Then back at him. And I say, “Green.”

The word sets him in motion. Lucian sets the plug, lubricant, and wand on the low table beside the bed.

Then he turns to me. “Undress.”

My body answers before my pride can make a fuss.

Still, I cross my arms. “You do know I’m capable of doing things without commands.”

“Yes.”

“And yet?”

“And yet.”

The nerve of him. The devastating, arousing nerve.