Page 40 of The Good Girl Effect

He steps away to pull a bundle of black rope from the wardrobe. My heart picks up speed at the sight of it. A second later, two strands of the rope are draped over my arms. He winds them around again and again, moving at a pace that is not rushed but not slow either.

I find myself watching his face instead of his fingers, thinking about how he said it quiets his mind, and I can see that already. He’s obviously very experienced in this, and I find comfort in that.

As he works, my curiosity gets the better of me, and I close my eyes, eager to feel what it would be like. The moment my vision is gone, the rest of my senses heighten. The scent of his cologne becomes more potent, and the feel of his fingers on my skin grows warmer.

It’s the same feeling I would get as a child when I’d fall asleep in the car, and my father would bring me into the house, barely waking me as he set me into my bed. It’s a feeling of safety. It’s complete confidence in knowing the person with the most power over me is the one person who would never hurt me.

“Open your eyes, Camille,” he says, and I do, taking a deep, slow breath, realizing that I have been holding it. Why? I don’t know. Our gazes meet, and I worry that he’s about to scold me. Instead, that hint of a smile reappears on his lips, and he shakes his head. “You never listen.”

“Yes, I do,” I argue.

“Fine,” he says, tugging gently on the binds around my wrists. “Prove it. Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut.”

My brows furrow with offense at his rude demands. But I intend to prove to him that I can obey simple orders, so I keep my lips pressed together and my eyes on the ropes.

He continues to loop and knot and loop and knot, and it’s far more complex than just a simple tie. It winds halfway up my forearm. The binds are not tight, but as he knots them together,I try to move them and find that I can’t. There’s a part of me that wonders if I should be panicking. Anyone in their right mind would probably hate this, but I don’t.

In fact…I like it.

“Nod your head if you’re feeling comfortable.”

Quickly, I nod.

“Do you want me to release them?”

I shake my head.

“No numbness or tingling?”

Shake again.

“How do you feel?”

Lifting my attention to his face, the connection between us is strong, maybe stronger than ever as I open my mouth to reply, “I want more.”

His jaw clicks as he clenches his molars and exhales through his nose. I see his pupils dilate, the restraint apparent in his expression. “I’ll give you more, but we’ll start slow. Now, close your eyes.”

On a trembling exhale, I do as he says, reminding myself to breathe. He steps closer, the heat of his body radiating against my bare skin.

“I’m going to touch you now,” he whispers.

I tense in anticipation.Touch me? How?

Then the backs of his fingers cascade down my arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

“Notice how everything feels so much more intense when you can’t move. Can’t see. Can’t pull away.”

My stomach tightens.What is he doing to me?Slowly, I nod.

His touch moves back up my arm, cresting my shoulder and traveling across my collarbone. I let out a gentle gasp, and he growls lowly in return.

“Imagine being pleasured like this. Imagine pleasuringsomeone else. Being used. Being fucked.”

I start to feel dizzy as his touch dances down the center of my breasts, over the thin bralette, and then to my navel. I’m practically shivering and finding it surprising how gentle he’s being. It’s not what I expected. If it’s not about sex to him, then why is he torturing me like this? Is it because he enjoys my torment or because he wants me to know what we’re missing out on? There is a pulse between my legs as I soak my panties, desperately wishing he would stop talking about pleasuring me and just do it.

Then he grips the knot around my wrists and jerks me roughly toward him. I let out a yelp as my body slams against his. My eyes fly open and connect with his. The rough domination sends heat coursing through my body, culminating between my clenched thighs.

“See how much control I have over you?” he mutters. His mouth is so close to mine that his lips move against my skin. “Imagine your entire body covered in these knots. Imagine not being able to move an inch as I use you. Do you like the sound of that, Ms. Aubert?”