‘Destined to...’ 2-Book Collection: Destined to Play, Destined to Feel. Indigo Bloome

hot. He secures his grip around my wrists and ensures I literally can’t move from under his physical presence.

      ‘You will do this, you promised me, you consented and you haven’t even given yourself time to adapt. You don’t need to manage or control anything. That’s your problem and until you stop trying you will be feeling like you do now. Let me be very clear — I will go to any extreme to ensure you keep your promise. I want you like this, Alex, and I won’t let anything stand in my way, including your insecurities.’ His voice is low, demanding, unrelenting. I can feel his muscles surrounding my legs, my thighs; I can feel his excitement swelling above me. My god! Now I can feel my own in response. How does he do this? He wants me, and how long has it been since I’ve heard that? Since forever, it seems. And I want him, but like this? And what about my insecurities?

      Dumbfounded, I squirm ineffectively beneath him.

      ‘You will have your chance to remove the blindfold when we have been together forty-eight hours. You are not touching it, nor are you going anywhere.’ There is an irrevocable determination in his voice that is unyielding and compellingly X-rated. God, what happened to the empowerment I felt only moments ago? No eyes to see, no legs to walk, no hands to move. He really is taking every bit of control away from me and his physical response clearly tells me he loves it. And apparently so do I.

      ‘Well, you are certainly using over-the-top measures to ensure that I don’t.’ I acknowledge for his benefit that I can barely move. Even as I question why I am secretly thrilled that he is going to such extremes, my arousal skyrockets with each passing second.

      ‘Trust me, Alex, the fun is yet to begin and I know you will love it if you just give yourself the opportunity to embrace it.’

      Is he my therapist now? I decide that struggling is futile, as it just seems to strengthen his resolve further both figuratively and physically; he tightens his hold on both my wrists and thighs. My brainstorming mind clicks into gear weighing up potential options. As if sensing my thoughts he states calmly, ‘Don’t fight me on this, AB, you will lose.’

      Just as I’m about to speak Jeremy’s mouth comes hard against mine with his tongue forcing its way through my lips, probing my tongue, invading my throat, harder and faster as I am pinned beneath him. He smothers my face, leaving me literally gasping for air. His power is a carnal force that my body has no urge to reject.

      ‘You are mine for the weekend. Stop fighting so hard, you are wasting precious energy that could be put to much more effective use.’ His voice is laden with suggestive undertones. ‘God, you look absolutely irresistible. Shame we have company or I swear I would take you right here, making the most of the access under your dress.’

      I am left melting beneath him; the hot, pulsing ache in my groin ensuring I am breathless and wanton.

      ‘So beautiful, but she does struggle so …’ he reflects, and for a long moment his palms cup my chin and cheeks as he straddles my body. I feel his erection harden against my thigh. He releases a long sigh as I anxiously await his next move.

      ‘You leave me no choice. Leo, please cuff her.’

      ‘Certainly, sir, right away.’

      Jeremy pulls my shoulders toward his body and slides his hands down my arms to my elbows ensuring they don’t bend as they are anchored behind me. Leo, whoever he is, quickly straps something that feels like padded handcuffs around my wrists and clasps them together in record time.

      I am left gasping, speechless, bound and blind as Jeremy secures the blindfold back into position. What on earth is going on here? This isn’t just some university prank that we can laugh about together. Jeremy said he would go to virtually any length to make this happen. Why? My thoughts are pulsating in my brain in tandem with my heart, trying to decipher what has just happened to me. I can feel the intensity of the energy in the room as if it is pumping through the air. What is driving him to be so dominating? What exactly am I missing?

      ‘I’d forgotten just how very stubborn you are. It’s quite astonishing.’ The old Jeremy is back, having a normal conversation with me. Unbelievable.

      ‘Stubborn,’ I shriek, emotion still overwhelming my muscles, my voice. ‘How can you …’

      ‘Please, keep your voice down. I won’t be able to feed you with a gag in your mouth,’ he states calmly.

      ‘You wouldn’t dare —’

      He cuts me off immediately. ‘I’ve come this far, my love. You know I would. The sooner you surrender yourself to me, the more freedom you will experience,’ he whispers as if we are co-conspirators. What does he mean by that?

      I shuffle around on the seat while trying to fully absorb the reality of my wrists being bound behind me. Although we have had an exploratory sexual past, Jeremy has never taken things this far before. There has never been this urgency, this underlying non-negotiable tone. I recognise now that perhaps I am in well and truly over my head. I just don’t understand what is driving this situation, and why …

      One minute I feel so close to him, in every way. The next minute I have to wonder if I know him at all. I am a mother for god’s sake; how the hell did I let myself get into this situation? What if I really can’t get out of it, now that I’m here? Is he joking, playing? Is he testing me? Pushing me to the limit? If so, it is working. I am confused and panicked, and contradictorily and frustratingly, extremely bloody aroused.

      ***

      ‘Now, let’s not waste these martinis.’

      Jeremy holds my chin upwards and carefully slides the cold liquid into my mouth. I don’t speak to him; I honestly don’t know what to say. I can barely move. I am petrified of going against his wishes after what has just happened, which is no doubt exactly what he intended, so I sit in silence, like a mannequin. It’s as if every cell in my body is electrified, awaiting his next move, on high alert. It’s strangely invigorating. I can feel his stare attempting to penetrate my thoughts. I try to calm my breath, my emotions, my thoughts … I fail. More silky liquid finds my tongue and slides down my throat. I don’t encourage it. I don’t prevent it. I’m frozen with some sort of fear of the unknown that I can’t define; it’s exciting and tantalising even though I feel utterly vulnerable with only Jeremy to rely on. What choice do I have, but to temporarily accept this bizarre sequence of events without protest or complaint? However, in accepting this fate I am also forced to concede that I have never felt more special or cherished by anyone in my life.

      Presumably we have finished our martinis because I am guided to a standing position. Jeremy slips his arm around my waist through my bound arms. We walk away without words. Suddenly, my feet are swept out from beneath me and Jeremy carries me easily up some stairs. It makes me feel very small, even more fragile and dependent, when he can scoop my body up so effortlessly. I have no physical defence against him and my emotional ones are being systematically infiltrated. I have never relied on someone so completely. I am usually so self-sufficient and this gesture of complete possession makes me quite literally go weak at the knees.

      I hear a door open and feel a flood of fresh air surround me. He lowers me directly into a chair. I can hear the noise of the city below and feel the warm humid air on my skin. I imagine the evening is as beautiful as the day was earlier. It feels good to be out of the tense energy of that room. My entire body shudders with relief at this new environment and sense of space around me.

      ‘Are you cold?’ He is obviously watching me as intently as I had supposed he was. Before I can stop myself, I shake my head, acknowledging his question. So much for ignoring him. I continue to sit as still and straight as possible. I sense that he continues his attempt to decipher my every mood and reaction.

      ‘Would you like some music, or would you prefer to sit in silence?’ He always had a knack for procuring an answer other than yes or no. I sigh inwardly but don’t answer him. This is his game, his rules, so I assume he will decide.

      ‘Music it is, then.’

      Some light, mellow jazz music instantly commences at the end of his words. I am surprised —