Page 21 of Twisted

“Traditionally, yellow light and red light serve as common ones.”

“Yeah, sure. Okay.”

“What else is out of bounds for tonight?”

The wiggles intensified, and Colleen tried really hard to keep still. “It’s weird to talk about this. Can’t we just, I don’t know, do something and then kind of feel our way through it? Can’t we just do stuff?”

“That’s not how this works.”

His voice was low as if he were explaining something slowly to a child, but he didn’t sound angry, which was weird. Wasn’t he supposed to be angry she was being stupid?

He continued, “We talk first about what is in bounds and out of bounds so that there are no misunderstandings.” His voice dropped lower. “I don’t like misunderstandings.”

“Oh, okay, then. But I don’t think I have any other boundaries.”

“That doesn’t seem like the QueenMod I know from the forum.”

“But I have an official job there. This is different.”

“All right, then we’ll do this the hard way. You don’t seem like a brat, but it’s almost as if you’re trying to provoke me into punishing you.”

Images assailed her, of open palms swinging at her, slammed doors, dark closets, and screaming. The excitement that had been growing in her chest became fluttery, like it was flailing and trying to get out. “I’m not a brat.”

Her strangled voice was weak in the dim room.

“I didn’t think so. Tell me more. Can I touch you with my hands?” He stroked down the side of her neck, over her shoulder, and down her upper arm, a pressure somewhere between a firm caress and massage.

Colleen stretched under his hands, and she almost hummed with enjoying it. “Oh, yes.”

“Do you like that?”

“Yes,” she moaned in her throat.

Warmth flowed from his body onto the bare skin of her upper back because he’d stepped close, and his fingers ribboned around her throat, his fingertips resting lightly on her pulse. His voice was low in her ear. “Can I do this?”

Her whole body fluttered. “Yes.”

His hands moved over her shoulders. “Can I touch you with my mouth?”

“If you can figure out how to do it with that mask on.”

He chuckled. “Can I touch you with my body?”

Her skin trembled like her whole body was trying to break free and wrap herself around him. “That’s the whole reason I’m here.”

“Good girl. Can I be rough with you?”

God, these questions, his demands that she say yes, were drawing pictures in her mind of his hands, mouth, and body moving on her, and then being rough. She could barely flippin’ breathe. “Yes.”

“Can I leave marks on your skin with my hands and my teeth?”

“Yes.” If she said yes, she’d have proof that this wasn’t a dream and that he’d touched her. After the video chat, her nipple had been sore for days where he’d told her to pinch herself. Every time it had rubbed on her bra, her face and between her legs had flushed with warmth.

It had been the most she’d felt in months.

“Yes, please.”

“Good girl.” He caressed her shoulders and arms again.