I shake my head, staring up at him. I’m now wearing only a blue thong and a matching bra, and the way he’s looking at me reminds me of a hungry lion about to pounce on a gazelle. He may want to take care of me, but at this particular moment, he also wants to devour me.

“Good.” His voice is a deep, menacing purr. “Now turn around.”

My pulse quickening in nervous anticipation, I do as he says. Even though I crave the darkness now, there is a tiny, instinctual curl of fear in my belly. Julian has always been unpredictable. For all I know, the domesticity of this evening reawakened his sadistic desires, unleashing the demon he’s kept in check these recent weeks.

A warm, treacherous throb begins between my thighs at the thought.

As I stand there, I hear a quiet rustling, and then a soft cloth covers my eyes.

A blindfold, I realize, holding my breath. Deprived of my vision, I feel infinitely more vulnerable. My right hand twitches with the sudden urge to lift my arm and tear off the piece of cloth.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Julian catches my arm, his fingers like steel cuffs on my wrist. Leaning down, he whispers in my ear, “Who said you could do that, my pet?”

I shiver at the heat of his breath. “I just—”

“Quiet.” His command vibrates through me, adding to the heated pulsing between my legs. “I will tell you when to speak.” Releasing my wrist, he pushes me forward, causing me to stumble and land face down on the bed. “Don’t move,” he orders, stepping closer.

I obey, hardly breathing as he runs his hands over me, starting with my shoulders and ending with my thighs. His touch is gentle, yet somehow invasive, like that of a stranger. Or maybe it just feels that way because of the blindfold. I can sense him behind me, but I can’t see anything, and he’s touching me like he would an object… doing with me whatever he pleases. I can feel the calluses on his large, warm palms, and the memory of our first time together flashes through my mind, making my belly tighten with anxiety and dark need.

When he’s done stroking me, he rolls me over onto my back and rearranges me on the bed, placing a pillow under my head. Then he grabs my arm, and I feel him looping a rough-textured rope around my wrist. He secures the other end of that rope to what I can only assume is one of the bed posts.

After that, he walks around the bed and does the same with my other arm.

I’m left lying there like some kind of a sexual sacrifice, my arms stretched out diagonally and the blindfold still covering my eyes. I’m even more helpless than usual, and that fact both alarms and thrills me, like most of my interactions with Julian. For other couples, this is only pretend. But for us, it’s as real as it gets. I don’t have the option to say no. Julian will take me whether I want it or not, and perversely, that knowledge deepens the needy ache in my sex.