It was the precise reason he’d used it. It was a ballsy gamble, reminding her of everything she’d had to shove away just to walk in here tonight. But fuck it, he didn’t want just slices of her. Even now, he wasn’t going to settle for that. From the second he’d laid eyes on her, he’d dreamed of uncovering every speck of her, an exigency that only began with her body. But damn it, he’d also counted on having months to do that, indulging in gentle peel-backs of her layers, one careful section at a time. Gentle had to go out the window tonight. So here he was, taking a chance on the emotional Russian roulette. He knew the possible consequences. He knew that any second, she’d slice the air with her safe word. Despite the drawl with which he’d spun his challenge, his gut braced itself to free her from the cuffs and walk her out the door. Instead, as she’d done so many times since the moment they’d met, she stunned his soul—which carried instant ramifications in his cock.
