Living in Shadow(65)

That was tired of being alone in the dark.

“Soleil…” he whispered and he didn’t even know what he was pleading for this time. For her to leave or for her to stay.

She took her hand from his chest.

And dropped to her knees at his feet.

She didn’t know if he’d understand what she was doing, what she was offering. But she couldn’t push him into this. He’d been forced into so many things; this had to be a choice he made consciously.

And in order to make it, he had to overcome the fear that he was one of those soldiers. One of those killers.

She kept her head bowed, her gaze on the floor. Hoping and praying.

Then his hand on her head, gentle, causing a shudder to go right through her.

“I can’t trust myself,” he murmured. “Not with you.”

“You don’t have to trust yourself. You only have to trust me.”

Luc didn’t move and for a long time there was only silence, his hand on her head. And she could feel the tremors in his fingers as they rested in her hair.

The darkness of the blindfold had been terrifying after Piers but she had no fear when it came to Luc. He’d covered her eyes the night she’d told him what had been done to her and though she’d been scared, she’d pushed through it.

Now she wanted to reclaim the anticipation of the unknown she used to love. And with it, restore his trust in himself, as he’d helped her restore hers.

“You have my absolute trust,” she said quietly into the silence, reminding him she was there. “But now I need you to give me yours…Sir.” She hadn’t said that word in a very long time but it felt right now. Felt good.

The fingers in her hair stilled. “Stand by the bed.” His voice sounded rough.

Hope uncurled inside her, but she didn’t let it show on her face, not wanting to give in to it too soon, rising to her feet and doing what he said.

He followed her and she saw him reach down, pick up the blindfold from where she’d laid it on top of the bedclothes.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have mentioned punishment straight-up like she had. But it was too late now. She was committed.

“You remember your safe word?”

“Yes.” Bracing herself for the darkness, Eleanor closed her eyes in preparation.

The material came over her face, soft against her skin, and she felt him knot the ties at the back of her head firmly. She had to force herself to breathe slowly, in through her nose and out through her mouth, fighting through the instinctive panic.

His palm came to rest at her nape, his fingers around her neck, exerting a subtle pressure. The hold centered her, the panic vanishing completely to be replaced by a new and much more pleasurable tension. Anticipation.

“Lie down,” Luc instructed, his hands guiding her onto the bed and down against the crisp cotton of the sheets. “Hands above your head.”

She did so, more soft fabric binding her as he tied her wrists together.

Oh yes.

She lay there breathing fast, tied and blindfolded, blackness in front of her, shivering as nervous tension chased over her skin. Waiting.

God, she remembered how much she’d got off on this. How she’d loved the psychological aspect of not knowing what was going to happen, of not being able to move. It had been intense and now…somehow it was even better. Because of Luc.

“Sir?” she asked, testing him.

“I’m not your Sir.” His voice came from down at the end of the bed. He must be standing there, watching her.

Her sex clenched at the thought of his gaze on her as she lay there helplessly on the bed.

“Yes you are. The first time you gave me an order, held my hands behind my back, you were mine. You want this as badly as I do. You crave it just as much. And you need it like I need it. So why don’t you give us both what we want?”

“I can’t, Eleanor. You should find someone else.”

“I don’t want anyone else. You’re the only one I’d let do this to me. You belong to me, whether you like it or not, like I belong to you.” She took a shaky breath. “Sir, please…”

There was a long silence and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath as she waited for him to reply.

“Fuck, Eleanor May.” Luc’s voice was rough edged. “You’re a bad girl coming here and not leaving when I told you to go. Thinking you’re safe with me.” The bed moved and she gasped aloud as she felt him lean over her all of a sudden, his mouth near her ear. “And most especially you’re bad for loving me, soleil.” His hand trailed down over the curve of her abdomen, between her thighs, fingers brushing the outer lips of her sex. She gasped again, fire shooting through her. “Because I’m not worthy of that kind of gift. But…” he stroked her and through the haze of pleasure she heard the catch in his voice, “…I want to be. Oh, Eleanor, I want to be.”