I’ve never been so satisfied. Not just sexually—mentally and emotionally, too. That sex stimulated my brain and my desire unlike anything I’ve experienced.

It’s paradoxical, because I would have thought that I’d HATE to be treated like that. I fucking hate being restrained, controlled, or bossed around. But not by Raylan . . .

I don’t understand it.

How could everything I hate be twisted and turned to such a degree that I found it wildly arousing?

Even as I’m drifting off to sleep, I’m pondering that question. Trying to understand what I just experienced.

Right before I fall asleep, I see a glimmering answer, like a nugget of gold in the silt of a riverbed.

It’s because I admire him.

I’ve never fucked a man I actually respected before. I’m so fucking arrogant that I looked down on every man I dated. They didn’t impress me. Outside of my own family, one of the only men I truly respected was Dante. But we were just friends.

I’ve never experienced what it’s like to fully esteem a man. To want to impress him. To want to please him.

There was a kind of pleasure in being conquered. Raylan is so handsome and rugged and capable, that I felt like he deserved to have me. He deserved to have me any way he wanted.

Then, on top of that, there was a deep and potent relief in letting go . . . in letting him take charge of the sexual experience. I didn’t have to think or plan or maintain my rigid hold on the situation like I usually would. Instead, I could set my brain free. There was no governor on my thoughts or on my physical response. I was free to simply experience what was happening, with no distractions.

Then, of course, there was a third element—how deeply filthy and taboo it all felt. He tied me down! He whipped me! He fucked me like an animal!

I should be furious and disgusted.

But instead . . . I loved it.

The perverse and rebellious part of me takes a deep pleasure in enjoying what I’m not supposed to like. In embracing what I’m supposed to reject.

It would only work with Raylan though, I know that. I would never respect another man enough to allow him to do that. Enough to WANT him to do it. And I would never trust anyone else like that.

That’s the core of why I was able to let go . . . because I do trust Raylan. However dominant and aggressive he might have seemed in the moment, deep down I knew that he would never actually hurt me. I allowed him to tie my hands because I knew that what followed would be pleasurable for both of us. I knew that even though he was pretending to use me for his own enjoyment, all the while he was watching my responses, gauging my arousal and my desire, so he could pull back from the edge of pain at just the right time, and soothe me with exactly the right kind of touch.