With Visions of Red (The Broken Bonds 1)

I know exactly what he desires to hear, and with all I have left, the fragile will that I can still claim as my own, I say, “I’m yours.”

His eyes snap open and he lowers himself to take me in his arms. He carries me this way—his arms secured to me, mine to him—to a back bedroom.

I keep my eyes locked on him, but in my peripheral I note the bare walls, neutral in color. The bed, covered by a simple black comforter. No TV. The only electronic sits in the corner: a large stereo.

Once he releases me to stand, he walks to his closet where he pulls out a gray canvas bag. Apprehension claws at me so fiercely I almost lose balance, the room swaying, but I focus on Colton—trust him. If I’m here, if I’ve given myself to him, I have to follow the rules.

Even if they go against everything I’ve been taught—every barrier I’ve erected to protect myself. I won’t know if I can be freed unless I give him that trust.

“I made this for tonight.” He turns and holds up a coiled rope. “I’ve never done a session in my home before…” He smiles, looking almost sheepish. It’s too endearing for this unsure moment between us. “But I do practice my technique here.”

Unwinding the rope, he lets the thick bands fall to uncoil on the floor, then he reaches up and threads one end through a silver ring above his head. I look up for the first time and see a large bamboo log hung from the ceiling.

I watch, hypnotized, as Colton prepares the scene. And when he’s pleased with his work, he walks toward me. “You have to give me permission to bend a rule.”

>

My lips quiver. “Which one?”

“Your only. I’m going to remove your clothes with a sharp object. I will not touch your skin. I will not inflict pain upon you by this method.”

Flashes of my nightmares come alive, tangible and growing thick in the slight span of air between us.

“The only way to face your demon is to free it, Sadie.”

And I know this is true—but it’s the one thing I fear the most: unleashing the monster within. I’ve strove to keep that demon bound and fed, sated just enough to live a normal life. Who will I be once she’s finally free…

With strength I barely possess, I nod my head. And with trust I’ve never been able to gift anyone, I close my eyes. Only the sound of a blade clicking open and the tear of fabric rings in the static air as Colton cuts away my shirt and bra.

Then his hands are on my waist, and I can not only hear but feel his shallow breaths. His fingers splay against my skin a moment before they descend lower, dipping between the material of my underwear and my hip, and then tugging them down.

Cool air licks my exposed skin, and finally, I open my eyes.

Colton’s gaze travels from my legs to my face, slowly and deliberately taking in every inch of me. “Beautiful,” he says.

My insides jolt. “Please, don’t use that word.”

He moves closer. Palming my cheek, he angles my face toward his and his pale blue irises ensnare me. “I’m going to make you feel that word for what it truly is; yours. It won’t belong to anyone else after this. You are beautiful, goddess.”

I wet my lips. An urgent need to press them against his rises up inside me with a sudden, insatiable hunger. But he moves out of reach before I can make the attempt. And I’m thankful; I’m not ready. I can’t lose my whole self to this man—not when I have nothing yet to offer in return.

A serious demeanor falls over Colton as he instructs me where to stand, how to position my hands. This is erotic rope play, yes, but it also goes so much deeper for him. As he maneuvers my ankles apart and begins to wrap them with the rope, he talks me through each tie-off. Coaxing the fear out of me, feeding on it, but also infusing me with a new form of strength.

The combination of terror and power heightens all my senses, making me acutely aware of every smell; the musty scent of rope. Taste; the salty tang of my sweat. Sound; Colton’s deep and even breaths. Sight; my skin bunched against the constriction of the binds. Touch; the abrasive rub of fibers against my skin—all of it is too much, overwhelming. It brings on a dizzy spell, and I have to lean against him until he says, “Stand on your own, Sadie.”

I do as directed, my legs unsteady as they just keep me from hitting the floor. And then the rope around my wrists tightens further, my ankles scream as the bands sink deep. My stomach muscles fight against the sudden assault. It’s a moment of pure pain that racks my body, stretching and lengthening me, and then blissfully…I’m weightless.

The creak of the rope twisting and gathering around my body as I’m suspended sends an electric pulse through me. A cry nearly wrenches from my mouth, but I bite down on my lip, stifling it.

“Don’t filter yourself,” he says, and I feel his reassuring touch against my back. “This is your space now. Submit to it. Allow the ropes to comfort you.”

I clamp my eyelids closed, refusing to see my position; the way my legs are spread wide, making me vulnerable. The way I’m bound, imprisoned. My lungs tighten painfully, cutting off my ability to breathe. I’m plunged right into the black pit of my fear…his voice snaking up and slithering against the walls of my mind.

Dirty girl.

His sweaty palms probe me…pain ripples through my breast as he pinches my nipple. Twists, eliciting a shrill scream…the wetness…forcing my body to betray me. Because I am. I am filthy.

“Sadie.” Colton’s voice cracks the vision. The walls bleed. “Please, baby. Stay here with me—fight. Find your subspace.”