Page 65 of Silver

I study her for a moment. Is she trying to fool me?

Finally, I reach for her collar and bend closer into the confined space to snap it around her neck.

She shivers as if I’ve knighted her.

I trail my finger along the edge of the collar, enjoying how it looks on her and the symbolic nature of submission. “How do you feel, precious?”

Any answer she gives will tell me one way or the other. She might be able to fake her submission with her actions, but she won’t be able to dupe me with her words.

She stares up at me, wide-eyed, her full, sensual lips parted. Her cheeks are pink. She’s leaning forward because that’s the only way to avoid hitting her head on the underside of the desk. Her breasts hang heavy, the hard, rosy tips making my mouth water.

There is no prettier sight in the universe. Time stands still as I memorize this vision. There’s something in her eyes, her expression, or maybe the tint of her skin. Something precious that eases some of the tightness in my chest. Something that tells me the tide is turning in my favor.

“Tingly,” she finally says.

I give her a slow smile. Part of me wants to laugh, but that would hurt her feelings. She’s serious. It’s just an unexpected response. “Physically or emotionally, precious?” Perhaps the position she’s in is literally making her hands or feet tingle.

She licks those lips and rocks toward me again, her breasts swinging. “Emotionally.”

I love that she understood the question.

I reach for her leash and snap it to the front of her collar.

Her breath hitches, and her cheeks pinken further. A soft purr escapes her lips.

Fuck, yes. She’s mine. I see it in her eyes. She’s tumbling toward me, metaphorically. She can’t stop it. She will fight our connection and bond for a long time, question it daily, but somewhere in her mind, she grasps the futility of her struggle.

She’s mine.

She’s mine.

She’s mine.

As I slide back under the desk, I tuck her leash beneath my inner thigh, restraining her in the confines of the small space between my legs.

She sighs heavily and tucks her body against me, curling her arms under her cheek and using me as a pillow.

I can’t see her now, nor can I see anything on my monitors. My focus is all on my girl as I ease the band out of the end of her braid and run my fingers through her hair over and over.

Twenty-Three

Daphne

* * *

I don’t know what’s happening. I’m so confused. But at the same time, I’m oddly content, so I’ll ignore the opposition team in my head. The team that keeps insisting I’m out of my mind and need to run as fast and far as I can.

What if the voices of common sense are wrong? What if I really am meant to be here? Instead of letting the argument continue to play out, exhausting me, I ignore reason and let myself languish for a while in this unexpected world I’m living in.

What if I jump in with both feet and give it a try?

What if I like it?

What does it say about me that my pussy gets wet when Silver reprimands me? That the thought of him taking a cane to my bottom every time I make a simple math error makes my heart race? That when I stared at the kennel earlier, I felt oddly drawn to enter it?

That I’m more comfortable and content, kneeling between my Master’s legs, than I’ve ever felt in my life?

So, yes, I’m going to ignore the losing team arguing for my freedom and let myself enjoy this strange sense that I’m right where I belong.