ageless-wanderer:
iamthefirechild:
She couldn’t hold his gaze. After only a few moments she had to back down, had to turn her eyes away. There was too much there; she didn’t know what it was, but it was overwhelming. Instead she fixed her eyes on her hands, clasped in her lap and starting to shake slightly. Fear? Excitement? Anticipation? She didn’t know.
“What is your will?” she said at last.
Satisfied he relaxed imperceptibly. “My will indeed,” he agreed. Her fear was a delicious scent in the air between them. The sound of her heart pounding out a frantic pace sweeter than any music he could compose. “You will tell me why you came here tonight. A virtual stranger heard of my invitation and accepts. I would know why.”
“This is what I need.” She lifts her hand to the collar again, but this time just to run her finger along it, curling her hand around the chain. “To give up control. Not to have to choose, to decide. Not to be in charge. In the hands of someone who knows nothing of me, won’t be gentle or cautious or anything because of knowing about me.”
She drops her hand again, clasping it with the other. “I need to not think. And this is the best way I know.”
*intensely crushes on Killian, Draco, Adam, Arthur, and Oliver*
ageless-wanderer:
iamthefirechild:
ageless-wanderer:
iamthefirechild:
ageless-wanderer:
A slow smile curves Adam’s lips. Elegant fingers run the length of the chain to stop at the collar. Without looking up, his other hand lifts and beckons you forth with a crook of his finger. It never occurs to him that you will not obey.
He is fascinating. Irresistible. She doesn’t understand this pull, can’t refuse the temptation. One step, then two, then she’s at his side, silent, obedient. Everything seems to be in abeyance until the collar is locked about her neck — feelings, reactions — her will is somehow his now.
She lifts a hand to brush the chain, where it’s locked to the headboard.
Eyes dark and distant, he stares down at her, hands clasped at his back. Finally he snorted. “So quickly you come to heel. I had hoped for some fight, some spirit. Ah well. One cannot always be so lucky I suppose.”
Walking around the bed, he took in her form from all angles. “Hands in your lap,” he barked once, tired of watching her fidget with the chain rather than focus on her Master.
The spell — if spell it was — shattered as the collar settled around her throat. A shiver shook her body. What had she just done? Even as her hand lifted to scrabble at the collar, he spoke, and she dropped them back.
Despite the desire to simply bow to his wishes — the word ‘master’ flashed across her mind — she kept her eyes on him.
He stopped his pacing and held her gaze with an intense stare, that of a dominant predator staring down she who was beneath him. He held that gaze, refusing to back down from the directness she offered in return.
She couldn’t hold his gaze. After only a few moments she had to back down, had to turn her eyes away. There was too much there; she didn’t know what it was, but it was overwhelming. Instead she fixed her eyes on her hands, clasped in her lap and starting to shake slightly. Fear? Excitement? Anticipation? She didn’t know.
“What is your will?” she said at last.
ageless-wanderer:
iamthefirechild:
ageless-wanderer:
A slow smile curves Adam’s lips. Elegant fingers run the length of the chain to stop at the collar. Without looking up, his other hand lifts and beckons you forth with a crook of his finger. It never occurs to him that you will not obey.
He is fascinating. Irresistible. She doesn’t understand this pull, can’t refuse the temptation. One step, then two, then she’s at his side, silent, obedient. Everything seems to be in abeyance until the collar is locked about her neck — feelings, reactions — her will is somehow his now.
She lifts a hand to brush the chain, where it’s locked to the headboard.
Eyes dark and distant, he stares down at her, hands clasped at his back. Finally he snorted. “So quickly you come to heel. I had hoped for some fight, some spirit. Ah well. One cannot always be so lucky I suppose.”
Walking around the bed, he took in her form from all angles. “Hands in your lap,” he barked once, tired of watching her fidget with the chain rather than focus on her Master.
The spell — if spell it was — shattered as the collar settled around her throat. A shiver shook her body. What had she just done? Even as her hand lifted to scrabble at the collar, he spoke, and she dropped them back.
Despite the desire to simply bow to his wishes — the word ‘master’ flashed across her mind — she kept her eyes on him.
ageless-wanderer:
A slow smile curves Adam’s lips. Elegant fingers run the length of the chain to stop at the collar. Without looking up, his other hand lifts and beckons you forth with a crook of his finger. It never occurs to him that you will not obey.
He is fascinating. Irresistible. She doesn’t understand this pull, can’t refuse the temptation. One step, then two, then she’s at his side, silent, obedient. Everything seems to be in abeyance until the collar is locked about her neck — feelings, reactions — her will is somehow his now.
She lifts a hand to brush the chain, where it’s locked to the headboard.
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