Bound to Submit

“I won’t, Master Griffin. I can handle this.”

“I doubt don’t it, Kenna, but I will cut the scene if I have even an inkling that I’m causing unintentional pain that you’re not owning up to.” He arched a brow. “Are we clear?” She gave a fast nod. “Good. Then spread your feet and put your hands at your side. Now.”

Her ready compliance fucking slayed him. After all this time, it really did.

“Mmm. Very good. Don’t move a muscle unless I tell you to. Because the scene begins right now.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Kenna was nearly vibrating out of her skin. Adrenaline, nerves, and need formed an intoxicating cocktail racing through her veins. Her pulse pounded. Wetness gathered between her legs. Her mind raced over every detail of his reaction to learning about her arm, looking for even the smallest sign of disapproval or rejection...and finding none. That should’ve made her feel good, and on one level it did, but it also made her head spin. Was it because she’d expected his rejection again? Maybe. Probably. But she couldn’t worry about that just then.

Instead, she focused on holding the position just as Master Griffin commanded, because for the first time in two years she felt like she was back in her element.

Even after all this time.

Music filtered in from hidden speakers, some kind of electronica with a piano melody, a yearning, driving beat, and a background that was rich with synthesized rhythms and tones. Master Griffin had always liked music, and though she didn’t know the song itself, being here like this so was damn familiar.

Unlike the rest of her life right now, at least here—right here in this room—she knew what the rules were, what was expected of her, and what she could do to succeed. She knew who and what she was.

And, God, she hadn’t realized how much she needed that. All of that. Because she’d lost it when she’d lost the Marines. She’d just lost so much.

Kenna had come here wanting to feel less and needing to get out of her head—both of which she’d hoped would help her deal with the pain for just a little while. But she was already finding more here than she’d even thought to anticipate. And that was both good and bad.

Remember what you’re here for, Kenna—and what you’re not.

Her mind unhelpfully resurrected Master Griffin’s kiss from moments before. She didn’t think she’d imagined the hunger with which his mouth had claimed and tasted hers. It’d been amazing...and confusing. In fact, given that he’d been the one to cool them down five years ago, so much about the night so far had been confusing.

But now wasn’t the time to try to make sense of that, either.

Now, all she had to do was follow Master Griffin’s commands. Now, all she had to do was please him.

Please let me please him.

“Stop thinking, Kenna,” came a deep voice from right behind her.

She startled, too deep in her own thoughts to realize that he’d moved so close. And damn if that one comment didn’t reveal how well he still knew her. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

Light fingertips dragged down her legs. “Don’t be sorry.” An open-mouthed kiss fell against the curve of her ass cheek just below the swimsuit-style bottom of her outfit. And she thought she’d been wet before. “Just feel. That’s all I want you to do. That’s your whole job right now. Feeling what I’m doing to you.”

Metal clanked against the floor, and the sound was attached to a thousand memories...but she didn’t have the time to consider even one of them, because just then the rough fibers of hemp rope made contact with her ankle. Kenna moaned.

“That’s it. That’s what I want,” Master Griffin murmured.

His quick, skilled fingers brushed her skin as he wounded the rope around her ankle again and again, the gritty, firm embrace of the fibers like seeing an old friend after so very long—comforting and exciting all at once. Without looking down, she could tell that he’d tied the rope to some sort of spreader bar, because then he repeated the process on the other ankle until she couldn’t close her legs if she wanted to.

“Damn, I’ve missed seeing that, Kenna. Your skin wrapped in my bondage.” His movements told her he’d risen, and then he appeared before her, another long length of hemp rope in his hands. “Present your wrists.”