The Start of Time

Chapter 38

Please someone tell me incognito browsers really work because after nearly three hours of research, my ads from this recent search history are going to be fucked up.

Chris's words have been playing over and over again in my head. I would never want Declan to compromise his desires in fear of my reaction, feeling guilty for failing to hold back. I know I already told him that I wanted to try new things, but maybe he's been holding back, trying to take it slow for my sake.

Maybe I need to initiate something further.

Okay, but why the fuck is gun play even a thing? Like what if you accidentally turn off the safety, and blow her brains out in more ways than one. Although the thrill is probably exhilarating, and while Declan cutting off my airways until I'm gasping for air seems kind of hot, I don't think I ever want a plastic bag over my head. His hands would be enough.

I think I've explored so far down this kinky black hole on the internet that I'm not sure how to get back. Instead of white rabbits and mad hatters like Alice, it's sadistic femdoms and teenage boys with a praise kink.

After all this, I'm not even sure how far I'm willing to go the first time I go far. I said I wanted to try everything, but even after all the books I've read, I didn't know everything went this far.

And of course I'm overthinking everything like I always do. I just need to shut my fuckign brain off, stop proving to Chris that I'm a little bitch, and just do it.

          MK: Is it too late for me to make it up to you?

          Wilder: Depends on what your plans are.

          MK: Why don't you come over and see?

          Wilder: As if I could ever tell you no. Leaving now.

Of all the times Declan takes an hour to get his life together, he picks now to leave exactly when I ask him. Now, I've only got around fifteen minutes to get everything together. That's not exactly enough time for any last minute shopping in that oddly specific, fancy store down the street. I guess I'll just have to light some candles, pull out the paracord people told me I needed, and hope he's wearing a belt.

He barely makes it through the door frame before my hands fist in his shirt, pulling him inside as his lips collide with mine, his arms instinctively wrapping around my waist.

"Jump," he commands seductively, catching me the moment my feet leave the floor, carrying me towards the dimly lit bedroom.

His lips attach to my newly exposed collar bone as the silky fabric of the robe slides down my shoulder. The bed dipping down when he places me on top of the comforter, the cool material soothing my flushed skin.

I pull my legs under me, gazing up at him, taking as much time as I need before finally reaching his eyes.

There's something erotic about the way he's towering over me right now. Knowing that at any moment he could completely pin me to the bed or tie my hands safely behind my back is utterly thrilling. There's something empowering about being physically overpowered.

Never thought I'd ever think something like that.

Maybe this won't be so hard, after all.

Before he can make another move, I push myself up on my knees, pulling him closely and unbuckling his belt without disconnecting eye contact, tugging until it's completely free from the loops.

He never falters when I wrap the belt around my neck securely, placing the free end in his hand, which he tugs gently until I'm back up on my knees, just tall enough for him to lean down and press his lips against mine, my neck submissively tilting backwards.