Chained

"Would you please stay with me tonight," I ask. He doesn't say anything to me. He just walks forward, scoops me up, and heads to the staircase. At the top, he looks around, then heads to my bedroom. He sets me down, and watches me undress. "Are you sure that you want me here, after everything that has happened?"

"Yes. I want you here. I am not sure what will happen in the future, but for now, I want you." As the words left my mouth, I knew that they were true. I crawl into bed, and watch as he gets naked. He gets in bed with me, and pulls me close. His hands stroke my skin, and I drift off to sleep.

I wake up to the sound of music coming out of my alarm clock. I roll on to my back, and stretch. I realize that I am alone in the bed. After the events of the weekend, it feels strange to be by myself. I give that consideration. I feel conflicted.

I reflect on our conversations. I didn't appreciate being abducted, and taken out to the forest without my consent. He said that he needed me to see him. I saw that animalistic, primal hunter in him. I also saw a man that was comfortable being humorous and compassionate; one who considered my needs. I have a clear view of his dominant nature, and his ability to affect me to a state of wanton needing mess.

For the most part, I enjoyed what happened in the forest. The nights that we spent in each other's arms, finding satisfaction and fulfillment with each other. I think about the way he dominated my body; how I panted, moaned, and begged for more. My toes curl into the mattress, and I become aroused.

My hand starts to travel down my body, over my breast, stomach, to between my legs. I start to touch myself, then I stop. I realize that if I continue this behavior every time I think about him, that I am going to be a slave to his commands.

I allowed myself to become dependent on him in the forest. I submitted to his will, and gave him dominion over my body. Would I have done that, if I hadn't been forced into those circumstances? If we had developed a relationship in our common sphere? I have a niggling suspicion that I would.

I was attracted to him the first day I met him. His powerful, predatory body called to me, and I wanted to answer. I may not be happy with his choice of venue, but I can't deny that I desired him. He showed me that he was a capable protector. His strength and intelligence would be an equal match to my own character.

I recognize that I want him more than I have ever wanted anyone else, that he has stoked a passion in me that I can't ignore. I want to see what the future holds for us, if anything. Was being in such a primal setting affecting the magnitude of my feelings, or was it him alone? Will this desire remain strong, or will it be snuffed out against the tedium of everyday routines?

I want to find out. Yet, there is a need for an equal playing field. I gave him sexual submission in the forest. I acquiesced to our mutual desires. I laid myself bare and vulnerable to him. He said that I was his. I agreed that I was, in that moment, but what of the future?

Will his desire remain for me? Does he still consider me his? Was a hunt all that he wanted from me, or was he thinking of a more permanent arrangement? I don't know. If I want those questions answered, I am going to have to dance with him more.

My sheets smell like myself, pear, cedar, rain, my captor, and my laundry detergent. I pull his pillow to my nose, and inhale his scent deeply. I feel a pang of longing, wishing he was here, then push it aside. I stand up, and let my toes curl into the carpet. The alarm clock was set early enough that I have a couple of hours before I must be at work.

I strip the sheets and pillowcases from my bed, setting the case that covered his pillow aside. I toss them into the dirty clothes. I fold his case, and tuck it into my nightstand. I walk to my closet, and select a dark blue pair of pants, a matching striped vest, and a white dress shirt. I place them on the bed, and head to my tall dresser.

My hand starts to go to the functional white bra that I usually wear to work, but it stops midway when a blue satin and black lace number catch my eye. It has a matching string bikini, and I generally wear it on special occasions. I grab the sexy lace, and decide that I am going to need to update my drawer soon. The idea of some shopping puts some pep in my step.

I walk into my bathroom, and start the shower. I grab my clippers, and give my mons a trim. I adjust the water, and step in. I go through the steps of showering, adding some sugar scrub into the mix, letting the scent of pears wash over me. My skin took a beating over the weekend, and needs some attention.

I finish my ablutions, and wrap my hair and body in towels. I head downstairs with the laundry, and start a load. In the kitchen, I grind some coffee beans, and get a pot going. I head back upstairs, grab my lotion out of the bathroom, and moisturize my body.

I grab some clean sheets out of the linen closet, and remake the bed. I dress in my outfit, leaving the top buttons of the vest and shirt open. I put on a pair of socks, and snag a pair of dress boots out of the closet. When I am dressed, I head into the bathroom. I comb out my hair, leaving it to fall and curl down my back.

I add a light touch of makeup. I accent my eyes, and add a clear gloss. I dab some pear oil on my wrist, behind my ears, and on my collarbone. I add a silver triskelion pendant and simple silver chain bracelet to my ensemble. I look myself over, doing a spot check, and head downstairs to the kitchen.

I pour the coffee into a travel mug, stir some sugar in, put the lid on. I take a minute, and water the plants and herbs in the kitchen. Dirty dishes are rinsed, placed in the dishwasher, and set to wash. I grab my work bag and keys, and head for the door.

I walk out the door, and lock it. I turn to walk down the step, and my captor is there leaning against the passenger door of a black 70 Cuda. As I walk to the passenger door, he stands up straight. The cut of his dress shirt and slacks emphasize his masculinity, and the green color makes his eyes a deep emerald.

"Good morning, a 70 Cuda? Gorgeous. May I?" I smile at him. His eyebrow lifts, he smiles back. "For a lady that appreciates a muscle car? Of course, you can touch it." I place my fingertips on the paint, and let my hand drift backwards towards the trunk. The metal feels cool to my touch, but knowing what this machine is capable of excites me.

He opens the passenger door. "I thought that you might like a ride to work." I look inside the car. The leather looks as new as the day it was installed at the factory. The carpet has vacuum stripes, and every surface is polished to a high buff. When I breathe deeply, I can smell the orange oil that conditions the leather. "You sure do love this car. Does it have a 426 Hemi?"

I look back at him, and pause. There is a serious look on his face. He is studying me, searching. He reaches out, and takes a lock of my hair in his hand. It curls around his finger. The sunlight glints off it, and picks the red in it up. "It's funny. I didn't realize that your hair had red in it, until we were in the forest. I was pleasantly surprised."

He lets my hair go, and it drifts back to rest on my body. "I'm sneaky like that. My mother said I should have been born with flame red hair to warn people that I am coming." He laughs, the sound coming from deep in his chest. His face is so angular that it looks like it was hewn from marble, but when he laughs; it breaks the severity.

"There is something that I want to talk to you about. Will you have dinner with me, later tonight?" I think about what I have planned for the night. "I am free, but do I have a choice?" The muscles in his jaw harden. "Yes, you do. You can refuse me, and I will accept that." I look him in the eye. I can't see any hint of deception. He waits patiently for me to answer.

"In that case, I will. Do I need to dress up?" His gaze roams over my body, taking in my appearance. I feel my body responding to his perusal. "No. You are fine as you are. I like the way that the masculine cut of your clothes highlights your feminine charms." His finger grazes my jaw line as he speaks.

"Would you like a ride to work?" He gestures to the open door of the Cuda. "Yes." I nod my head, and he holds his hand out for me. I place mine in his, and use it to lower myself into the Cuda. When I am strapped in, he closes the door, and comes around the front of the car. After he is in the car, he starts the engine.

I am watching his form. How he handles the powerful machine with the same grace with which his own body moves. Between studying him and the way the Cuda's torque cradles me in the seat; I barely notice the drive to work. When he pulls into the parking space, my mind comes back to the present. I look at him, in his eye. "I just realized that I don't know your name."

His hand comes out, clasps my chin, and he leans towards me. In the confines of the car, it brings into focus how small I am compared to him. My lips part in anticipation. His voice is low, close to the growl that I am familiar with. "Shane. My name is Shane." I wait for him to kiss me. He looks at my lips, his jaw tightens, then he releases me, and turns the car off.

I busy myself with getting out of the car. I am disappointed that he didn't kiss me, but I don't want him to see that I am that needy for his touch. I grab my bag and coffee. I look to my right, and he is already out of the car; waiting to open the door for me. He opens the door, and holds out his hand for me. I place my hand in his, and he lifts me up easily.

As we walk to the elevators, he slows down, and matches his gait to mine. His slower pace reminds of a stalking panther. He pushes the button, and the doors open. We step in, I push the button for our floor, and the doors close. We ride the elevator up, and disembark on our floor. We walk towards his office, and part ways at my cubicle.

I step into my cubicle, set my stuff down, and turn my client on. I put my credentials in, and open my programs. I settle into the routine of my job. Every so often throughout the day, I feel eyes on me. I turn, and look in his direction. He has arranged his desk so there is a clear line of sight between us. I see him lounging in his chair, talking on his phone, and yet he never breaks eye contact with me.

Lunch time comes, and I pull an energy bar and some dried fruit out of my bag. I roll my neck, and work the kinks out of it. I take the time to answer personal texts and emails, as I nibble at my desk. When my lunch break is over, I get back to work. My duties engross me until the scent of rain and cedar hits my nostrils.

I look up, and he is standing over me. "Are you ready to go?" I look at the clock, and realize that the day is over. "Yes, let me shut everything down." He nods his head, and steps back to the opening of my cubicle. I go through the process of saving my work, and shutting the client down. I grab my bag and mug once it is done.

He steps out of the way. "Would you like to go home, and freshen up? We have time, if you want to." I stop, and look at him with a puzzled expression. "You made a reservation?" His face softens with amusement. "Yes, I'm not taking you to McDonalds. I want to enjoy my food." I shrug my shoulders. "Seems reasonable. The only thing I would like to do is touch up my makeup. I can do that in the bathroom."

"Lead the way." I head for the bathroom. When I am in it, I touch up my makeup, and check that everything is where it is supposed to be. I finish, and walk to the door. When I exit, he is leaning elegantly against the wall, all relaxed charm. "Are you ready?" I ask.

"Whenever you are, Beautiful." I blush, and start toward the elevator. As the elevator goes down to the garage, I look at him. He catches me ogling him, and winks. I feel my cheeks flush. "You're adorable when you blush. I want to push you up against that wall, and ravage you. Unfortunately, the security personnel don't need to see your luscious body."

The elevator opens, and he exits first. He scans the garage before he moves to let me out of the elevator. I follow him to the Cuda. He opens the door for me, and holds his hand out so that I can get in easily. As I get situated; he shuts the door, and gets in on his side. He starts the car, and the rumble of the engine vibrates through me.

He backs out of the space, and we head to the restaurant. We spend the ride making chit chat about our day. In the back of my mind, I am wondering what it is that he wants to talk about. We pull into the restaurant's parking lot, and before I can get out, he is there opening my door. I smile, and say "Thank-you." He smiles back, inclines his head, and escorts me inside with his hand at the small of my back.

I realize that he has brought me to a steakhouse, and I am warming up to the idea of a good dinner. He talks to the hostess, and we are escorted to our table. I pick up my menu, and start to look at the offerings. I have never been here before, and everything looks good. "Order whatever you like. It's on me." "Are you sure? I can pay for mine." He raises an eyebrow, and nods. "Yes, I'm sure."

The waitress makes her way over. She addresses Shane, "What can I get for you, today?" He looks at me, and says "After you." I give the menu a quick glance again. "I want the ribeye, rare, with the Caesar salad and glazed carrots as my sides. I would also like two fingers of Glenlivet 12, neat, and a glass of ice water with mint."

Shane smiles at me. "That sounds excellent. Make it two, but I would like steamed asparagus instead of the carrots." The waitress smiles at us, nods, and leaves to put our ticket in. I look at him. "So, what is it that you want to talk about?" He chuckles. "How about we wait until after dinner?" I search his face, but decide to let it go. "All right, I can handle that." The waitress comes back with our drinks.

I sip my scotch, taking my cues from him. The waitress brings our salads, and we tuck into our food, making small talk. I concentrate on taking small bites, and not devour my food like I want to. As I eat the steak, I remember the last steak I had in the forest, and the game we played afterwards. When dinner is finished, the waitress asks if we want desert. He looks at me. "No, thank you, but I would like a box." She leaves, and comes back shortly with the check, and a box for me.

He looks at the bill, and puts some cash in the check book. I place my leftover steak and carrots into the box. We stand and make our way out. He is right behind me, guiding me with his hand. When we get to the door, he opens it with his free hand. I proceed out the door, and wait for him. He offers his arm, and I place my hand on it. We get into the car, and take off.

On the drive to my house, I consider bringing the subject up again, but decide to be patient. He parks in front of my house, and turns the motor off. He gets out, comes around to my side, opens the door, and puts his hand out for my stuff. I place it in his hand, and rise out of the Cuda. I walk up the steps, getting my keys out of my pocket.

I reach the door, unlock it, and open it for us. I step inside, and turn the living room light on. I place my keys on the table by the door, and take my things from him. I hang my bag up on the coat rack, and walk into the kitchen. I put my leftovers in the fridge. When I turn around, he is standing in the doorway. "Would you like some coffee?

"Yes, that would be good." As I go through the process of grinding the beans, I wait for him to bring up what he wants to discuss. He thwarts my curious nature, and remains silent; choosing to stand there and watch me make coffee. I grab a bowl on the counter that has some homemade Almond biscotti in it, two cups, saucers, and spoons. I take them to the table. "Please sit down. Are you allergic to anything?"

He shakes his head. "No, thankfully. I'm a pretty healthy specimen." I want to roll my eyes. That is the understatement of the year. His body looks like a master sculpted it. "Cream?" He shakes his head, "No." I grab the pot of coffee and a trivet. I sit down at the coffee table. I pour us both a cup of coffee, and set the pot on the trivet. "Would you like a cookie?"

"Don't mind if I do." He takes a cookie, and bites into it. As he chews it, he looks at me suspiciously. "Did you make these?" I raise my eyebrow at him. "Yes, I did. Is there something wrong with them?" A smile splits the austere lines of his face. "No. They are delicious. I'm glad that we didn't get desert at the steakhouse." His appreciation of my cookie making skills makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

I watch as he demolishes the cookie, dipping it into his coffee and biting into it. When he is finished, I top off his coffee. "Are you ready, now?" His face grows serious, and I am not sure about what is to follow. He sits up in a straight position, like he is expecting a battle. I brace myself.

"I want to talk about the forest, and what happened. I can see that you understand BDSM. I want you to know that I have never taken someone against their will before this last weekend. I normally cultivate a dynamic with them, then arrange to take them out to my cabin for fun. I don't regret the things that we did together last weekend, but I regret that I didn't take the time to give you a choice."

His eyes are piercing mine in their intensity. Emeralds clashing with sapphires. His words make me angry. He took the time to give other women consideration, but I wasn't worth the time or thoughtfulness that it took to do so. "Care to explain your reasoning for not doing so?" My voice is so low that I am practically growling it out at him.

The muscles in his jaw tighten. He probably has little reason to explain himself and his actions. "I was already considering it when I caught you ogling me the first day you worked. The blush that lit your face and neck made me determined to see if it went all the way down. When you slammed into me, it was like being struck by lightning. I never felt such overwhelming desire."

He pauses, and takes a sip of coffee. "I followed you in my truck. When I saw you start to walk into the tunnel; I parked my truck, and grabbed my kit. I was there waiting for you. I almost talked myself out of it, but then I saw you sniff the air. I knew that I had found my equal. From there I was all instinct. You turned around, and I knew it was my chance."

"I came at you from behind, put you in a grapple lock, and placed my rag over your nose and mouth. You fought me so hard, and I knew that I had made the right decision. When you whipped that chain at me, I couldn't deny your spirit and feisty nature. When you were putting your shoes on, and I caught your scent; I was driven to touch you. Your body is so responsive to me. You pushed my hand away. I was so enthralled that I just reacted, and to my surprise, you submitted."

"I wanted your submission, but not like that. I wanted to talk to you about it at the stream, when we went fishing. I was thinking about how to broach the subject, and you hooked that bass. I enjoyed watching you battle with the fish. The way you skillfully brought it to you. I underestimated you. I thought we would have a conversation, and I would either take you back to the city or make up rules for a game.

"The next thing I know, I'm surfacing in the stream. I'm wet, cold, and bellowing like a bear. All I can see is your figure getting smaller, and my primal nature kicked in overdrive. I spent hours hunting you. I had almost given up, when I saw the moonlight light up your pale skin. I sat down on my haunches, and waited for you to come down. When you did, you stumbled. I went to make sure that you were all right."