Page 13 of Ravage

I obey.

The rope is soft against my wrists, but he ties it tight enough that I know I won't be able to escape.

Not that I want to.

"On your knees."

I drop carefully, the position making me hyperaware of my nakedness, my vulnerability.

He moves in front of me, still fully dressed.

The power dynamic is clear—he has all of it.

"Do you know what's going to happen now?"

"No, Sir."

"I'm going to hurt you. I'm going to humiliate you. I'm going to use you. And you're going to thank me for it. Do you understand?"

My core clenches at his words. "Yes, Sir."

"Tell me your safe word."

I think for a moment. "Chicago."

My parents' favorite city.

Where they met. Where they died.

"If you use it, this ends immediately. You leave and never come back. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Open your mouth."

He traces my lips with his thumb, pressing just enough to part them. "You have no idea who I am, what I'm capable of, and yet here you are, on your knees for a stranger." His thumb pushes deeper, making me taste my own lipstick. "That's either very brave or very stupid."

I hold his gaze as I deliberately close my lips around his thumb, sucking gently.

His eyes darken to nearly black.

"Brave then," he murmurs, pulling his thumb free with a wet sound that makes me clench my thighs together. "Let's see how long that lasts."

He undoes his belt with one hand, the leather sliding free with a whisper of promise.

Or threat.

The sound makes me wet instantly, and somehow, he knows.

"Already soaking yourself, and I haven't even touched you properly." He fists my hair, pulling my head back to look up at him. "What would your safe, boring ex-boyfriend think if he could see you now? Tied up and desperate for a stranger's cock?"

The crude words should offend me, and the fact that he knows I have an ex-boyfriend should terrify me.

Instead, they make me moan.

"That's what I thought." He tightens his grip in my hair. "You've been pretending to be something you're not. But I see you, little lamb. I see exactly what you are."

"What am I?" The question escapes before I can stop it.