Page 128 of Dance of Devils

But then the heat between my legs and the raw hunger churning inside me start to be too much.

I get on my hands and knees as instructed, feeling utterly exposed as I arch my back and rest my face against the duvet.

This is really happening.

Nervous, anxious energy ripples through me, making my toes curl and my fingers fidget. But it’s not a bad anxiousness.

Actually, for the first time quite possiblyever, I realize I’m about to have sex and I’meagerfor it.

Aching for it, not looking for an escape.

I hear the bedroom door open, and my skin prickles, nipples tightening to points against the duvet and heat blooming between my legs as I sense his eyes sliding over me.

The lights dim, and I exhale quietly as I hear his footsteps approach the bed.

“You followed my directions well,” he murmurs. “Good girl.”

Fuck. The way those words slip over my skin like silk, or a tongue, when he says them. It’s like my ears are wired directly tomy pleasure center, and hearing him purr those two words sets me on fire.

I shiver, biting back a whimper when Kir traces a fingertip over my raised hip, then slides it to the small of my back. My skin ripples, my core tightening and fluttering as he slowly drags the finger over every little vertebra of my spine, until he reaches the top and wraps my hair around his fist.

He gathers my hair into a high ponytail, fastening it in place before letting his fingers walk back to the nape of my neck. He leans down close, and my breath catches when his lips brush my earlobe.

“I’m going to blindfold you.”

I nod, then gasp quietly when he slides a strip of black silk over my eyes, knotting it tightly at the back of my head, beneath the ponytail.

The sudden elimination of one of my senses instantly heightens the rest of them—his citrusy piney scent. The sound of his deep breathing. The brush of his skin over mine as he drops his hands from the blindfold.

“Do you trust me, little sinner?”

I shiver as I nod my head. “Yes.”

Kir takes a slow breath, and I whimper when I feel his fingertip slide back down my spine.

“I’m going to be completely and utterly in charge. I’m going to push you without holding back, Brooklyn. I’m going to tie you up.”

I gasp quietly, fear and ravenous excitement coursing through my body. He takes another breath before his dark, deep voice slips over my skin again.

“I’m going to hurt you, too. Not in a bad way,” he growls. “In a way that’s going to make you come alive.”

My pulse skips erratically, ringing in my ears as my body tightens.

“If it ever becomes too much,” he says, his voice low, “you’ll say a specific word, and we will stop, no questions asked, no judgement. Do you understand?”

I shiver, nodding my head. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now choose your safe word, the one you can utter and I’ll stop immediately. Don't choose anything vague like 'stop' or 'please', make it something very specific that you would never say in this situation. Even though I’m the one tying you up and dominating you,youare in control here, Brooklyn. You set the boundaries, and you decide when you’ve had enough. Is that clear?”

I nod again. “Yes, sir.” I wet my lips, thinking, my fingers tightening on the duvet. “Arabesque. Arabesque is my word.”

“Good. Remember that.”

The warning tone in his voice makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

“Face to the bed,” he murmurs. “Reach your hands out toward the wall.”

My heart skips as I bend all the way over, ass in the air and my cheek against the duvet. I stretch my arms out, trembling when I feel Kir’s hand stroke my forearm.