continue. “I’m not here begging for you to take me back or to forgive me. I’m here because I think I know what I need, and you’re the only person I trust to give it to me.”
His brow raises in curiosity, and I’m sure I have his attention now.
“I remember that night…with Lilac and I remember something she said about being submissive, about giving up control, how freeing it is, and I need that, Ellis.”
With a gentle squint in his eye, he steps forward. “I’m not going to force you into submission so you can feel better—”
“I’m giving it to you,” I say, stopping him. “I trust you.”
Silence fills the room like a dark cloud, and I can see in his eyes he wants this. Maybe it’s what he’s always wanted but was too afraid to ask for.
His hands tighten into fists with his arms crossed over his chest, the thick veins of his forearms popping as he clenches. He’s thinking about it, imagining me vulnerable and powerless. He wants to break me. I just hope he wants to build me back up afterward.
His eyes drift to Hanna who is standing next to me, and without looking at her, I know she softens under his gaze.
“It’s not that easy,” he says, more to her than to me. At least he’s apologetic about it. As if he wishes he could offer her a better solution and the guilt I feel for being the person, the problem, the broken cog in this machine, stings like acid.
“I know it’s not,” I reply, stepping forward. “But since when did we ever take the easy route? And I’m not asking you to take it easy on me. I’m asking you to give me what you’ve wanted to since we met. You’ve known this about me the whole time, haven’t you? You could see what I couldn’t. I was meant to do this. It’s what I’ve always needed when I was so convinced I needed to be the one in control. Ever since my brother died in the crash I should have prevented, I’ve been in a tailspin, thinking I only needed to regain control. But you knew…what I really needed was to give it up. Let go.”
He stares at me a moment, his chest moving with his heavy breath, his pulse pounding in his neck. Then he steps forward, his body almost touching mine as his dark stare penetrates all the confidence I walked in here with.
“You remember the safe word?”
I swallow. “Trust.”
“I’m going to crack you open, tear away every single layer, until all that is left is you. Just Nash.”
“I’m ready.”
His thumb touches my chin, and instantly the contact makes me melt, missing him so much I could cry for him to do it again, even if it hurts. Then he runs it down along my jaw toward my neck as his hand encircles my throat.
“Hanna, are you staying or going?”
She steps up next to me. “I’m staying.”
“It might get intense. You won’t like it,” he says and suddenly I get nervous for her. A cool pit of fear settles in my bones. Hanna nurtures, she worries, she cares. This will be too much for her to watch, and as much as I want her here for the aftercare part, I don’t know if she can handle everything leading up to it.
“You should go,” I tell her, but she only shakes her head, a quiver to her lip already.
“It’s all of us or nothing at all.”
His hand slips from my throat and he walks away toward the hallway leading to the back of the apartment. His place is large, expansive, with thick white marble floors and floor-to-ceiling windows.
Following close behind him, my shoulders begin to tighten along with the heavy knot in my gut. He goes straight for the large bedroom at the end of the hall, and I know immediately by the scent of him as we pass through the doorway it’s his room. The bed, with its black bedding, is large and neatly made. The instant memories of Amsterdam hit me hard.
He passes through the space for the large walk-in closet he enters and turns for the drawers along the back. After opening one, he begins pulling things out and turns to set them on the bed. I recognize them immediately: the rope, the blindfold, the paddle, the flogger, and last, he adds something else.
My pulse quickens.
“Take your clothes off,” he says in a low, authoritative tone.