Page 97 of A New Days Don

“We will work on it; turn it into everything you ever dreamed of for your future home.” Massimo insists, and I giggle as I press my face into his neck, feeling his smile against my forehead.

“You don’t have to do that,” I tell him, and we make a turn down a massive hallway with beige carpeting and pale blue walls.

Massimo grunts in protest as he kicks open one of the doors, “This is my room. I haven’t stayed here in over a decade. If you want, you can select any room in the house to be ours, or we can make this one ours.”

The way Massimo is talking makes my head spin. He speaks as if it is a done deal, that I’m not only staying one night in case some crazy man stalks my house, but as if I will stay forever. My stomach flips with nervous butterflies, but the feeling isn’t so bad. Unlike anxiety, it feels more akin to nervous excitement for the unknown that lies before us.

“Ours?” I vocalize the question as Massimo places me carefully onto a massive, plush mattress.

He stands at the end of the bed, a massive, tattooed figure looming over me in the darkness. My skin pricks with awareness as his eyes skitter over my body.

“How’s your shoulder?” He asks, nodding to the wound covered by the shirt he gave me.

“Fine,” I respond, my voice trembling with a heady mix of arousal and nerves.

“Good…” He trails off, stepping back from me, and I tilt my head in confusion as he walks over to a dresser and starts sifting through drawers.

“What are you doing?”

“Remember, I will never do anything to bring you harm. Your happiness and pleasure are my top priority.” Massimo notes as I watch him pull out a long stand of leather.

“Okay?” Once again, I am left more perplexed than certain about what is going on.

“Your consent is also important to me.” His voice becomes more serious and dominant as he lowers it an octave. Arousal bursts from my lower core, tingling against my skin and pussy lips.

“Mila,” he snaps me out of my stupor, “do I make myself clear?”

“My consent is important, yes.” I nod, even though he is still gathering things from his dresser.

“You hesitate, and I will slow down. You start pushing me away and saying stop. Everything is done in that moment, and we talk about it. Understood?” Massimo turns, and my jaw drops at the leather straps, a whip of some kind, and a cloth bundled in his fist, “Mila.”

“Y-yes, understood.” I stammer, my eyes widening as he prowls for me.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Do I want this?

I want Massimo… But what is all this?!

“Mila, out of your head. Speak to me.” Massimo demands, placing everything before me so I can properly analyze them in the dim lighting.

“What is all this?” I reach out to touch the leather straps and pull my hand back as if it bit me.

“This is how I plan to keep your mind focused on who is touching and drawing your pleasure from your body,” Massimo explains, once again leaving me sitting more confused than before I asked.

“H-How?” I play with some of the whip's soft tips.

“With your full submission.” He watches as a swallow works its way down my throat, capturing every little reaction my body has to his words, “Hold your wrists out, sweetheart.”

With your full submission.

My thighs tremble as I shift to my knees and kneel in front of Massimo. With gentle movements, he binds my wrists, wrapping them in soft leather together before knotting them firmly. I experiment with them, tugging on the binds, my hands pressed together firmly. A gasp escapes me, and panic threatens to rise through me. Images of the alley creep through without my permission.

No.

I was never bound. This is different. Massimo is here.

My screams echo deep in the abyss of my mind.