Chapter 6

LEILA

.

.

I hesitate, my hand hovering over the doorknob. Taking a deep breath that doesn’t quite calm the flutter in my chest, I twist it.

The click seems so loud in the quiet place, as I pull further, walking in slowly, counting my steps.

My breathe hitches as my eyes widens trying to adjust to everything in sight.

Or maybe not because I can’t quite see anything here, except where I’m standing.  

The room is drenched in red, the first thing I notice of it, the red coating everything like the one I had seen in movies, the red room, I could tell the danger of it.

I widen my eyes trying to see past all of this, trying to make out even a shade of what I’ve walked into as my head begins to swim that familiar wave of panic rising with fear as the cold grips my body.

It feels so cold in here although I’m covered in a robe but it still does.

“Where is this?” I whisper as the sound barely came out, the question hanging in the thick air, making it hard to understand.

“I guess you don’t listen” his voice erupts, deep low and smith with an edge that makes me jump.

“The robe, it should be off”

I turn immediately trying to pinpoint where he was or where the voice was coming from.

I can hear him walk, although barely because of its soft and almost silent sound with the shadows playing tricks on me, I still can’t tell where he’s coming from.

“Climb” his voice seems closer now, right there, at the edge of the wall, I can’t quite place how the place is but I can tell that it was the edge.

Another light flicks on, a hard cream light that cuts through the red, making everything look clear.

My eye catches what’s in front of me immediately and I can feel my skin prickle all over, forgetting what he had commanded.

A bed lay in front, having so many pillows, it was all white, you could tell there was no stains and is neatly dressed, one you will want to comfortably roll or lay on just to feel it’s warmth because of how soft it looks.

I turn to the side as my eyes catches the main thing.

A whip. Not like some kind of toy if my eyes wants to play with me.

This is a heavy braided leather.

Next to it is a shiny steel handcuff and then some other types of handcuff more adjustable, all of them looking cold and unforgiving, like it was there to serve a dangerous purpose.

A leash, how are all of this even here, the leash is a thick and black one, the leather worn down like it’s been used countless times.

And gags, oh god, the gags, the picture of it in my imagination and that of what im seeing looks scary because it’s about to be used on me.

A red ball with straps, a metal ring that looks way too big and then some nice looking ropes.

They were everywhere from the thick ones to the thin ones all tied up in knots, I don’t even ant to think about it.

Blindfold, it looked beautiful  like it will sit pretty on me and then a black bondage tape that looks sticky. My eyes moves looking at all of it until it lands on the vibrators.

A whole bunch of them. Different shapes and sizes.

Why the hell does he even have all this? My head spins.

My eyes dart to the heavy wooden paddle leaning against a weird paddle table. A spanking bench. Yeah, I read about those back when I was a teenager sneaking looks online and reading some hardcovers during my job.

Never thought I’d see one for real, let alone be…here.

I can feel him walk towards me, that silent way he moves. My skin already feeling so tight and my nipple twisting and poking against the thin fabric of whatever I have on under this robe.

He’s sent the garter to my room hours ago, the guy that had carried me out on the first day just dropping it at my doorstep:

“You seem to always want to defy my orders” he comes closer, too close from behind me, his skin brushing mine. He holds my arms not rough but firm and spins me around.

My eyes meet his. I can feel the heat coming off his bare chest even though I’m not looking directly and then my eyes go to his neck, the tattoo beside it, an initial I can’t quite make out in this light.

My gaze shakes as it flutters down to his chest. It’s wider, harder than I remember. Years apart, and I barely recognize what I’m seeing. His chest is like a solid block making my heart to flutter as my  eyes dart to his nipples, and all I can think of is putting my tongue on them.

My finger wants to trace every part of his body, like it’s a sculpture.He looks like a Greek god, like he just walked off some other planet. How did he even get like this?

I can feel his breathing while I stare, and maybe… maybe I am actually having a thing on him, an effect on him after all and this could be a chance to do something and run away to maybe somewhere no one knows, I smile at myself knowing it’s not even possible. God, this is messed up.

“You should have no words to say. Strip and climb.” He moves back, pulling a chair from behind him. He sits, widening his legs, balanced, and it finally dawns on me that I have nothing on under this robe aside the garter.

My hands tremble as I release the tie, the robe falling off in a soft pool at my feet. My inner side clenches, and I can feel the heat gathering between my thighs.

He watches me, his gaze intense more like a predatory glare, like he’s stripping away the last bit of me. As I settle onto the edge of the bed, my hands grip the soft velvet to steady myself.

I wait for something. A word. Some kind of instruction.

“Play Raven.” My name, the way he says it, low and dark. I can’t quite place what he’s feeling, but his eyes are darker, and he looks… almost relaxed, just staring at me.

I look at everything beside me on the bed and ofcourse he wants me to play with it and the feather looks so soft, like they can really do a trick around my skin.

“I don’t know what to do.” My hand holds the throw pillow next to me, the velvet bunching under my fingers. His gaze lingers on my breast, the curve of it, tracing the line of what I was wearing on it, and I can feel him practically ripping everything off me in his mind.

“You loved reading books.” His voice is a low murmur but audible and deep enough for me to hear as the only sound in this room“I read them. I saw all of it. And I know you do know what to do.”

My mind flashes back to those books. I caught him staring at me once while I read, and I just thought he was bored. Never knew he’d actually read them, he had asked me what it was about and I had told him then that it’s not the kind of book a guy should be reading and I had laughed, now it’s practically used against me.

He stands and walks closer. I can feel my skin crawling. I just want to get out of here.

He looks at what’s on the table. “Come here.” He gestures, and I move closer, my eyes fixed on what he’s reaching for.

My brain is going a mile a minute, thinking about all the girls he’s probably used this on. Why is this even a thing for him? But I don’t dare ask. Because he isn’t the Damien I knew.

He looks at me with those cold eyes, holding up the cuffs, the adjustable one. “Fifty shades, right?”

My eyes move back to his face. I can’t read it. I can’t read him at all. I don’t even want to answer. Maybe if I just stall, he’ll let me go back.

“I am asking you a question.” His voice is hard now. “And everything about you belongs to me. So you should answer when I talk and do everything to please me.” He moves around me, his fingers brushing against my hand.

He touches my hand, and the feeling is always new, electric. He places his hand on mine, bringing them together, and the cold metal of the cuff snaps on.

He tightens it, just a little, but my blood rushes as the room starts to feel blurry. I don’t even know how tying my hand makes me feel this dizzy.

He moves back to the table and picks a  leg leash. Something that won’t let me run if I ever have to.

He places it on both my legs, setting them apart. I’m literally being tied up. By the man who currently owns me. Even the air I breathe feels like it belongs to him too.

“I have to cut those off.” He looks at me, and I turn my face away. I can’t even look at him, he had something in his hand my eyes widens as the realization dawns on me, understanding what is really in his hand.

“Please, Damien…”