Nancy’s POVHis hand was warm against the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair with a possessive grip. He held the leather strap between us—dark, about an inch wide, with a buckle on one side and a small rubber ball attached to the center. The gag. I stared at it, my lips parting slightly, my breath quickening.“Open,” Jake said.I opened my mouth. He slid the ball past my lips, the rubber pressing against my tongue, and fastened the strap behind my head. The leather cinched tight, not painful, but firm. I could not speak. I could only hum, only nod, only follow.He sat back on his heels, studying me. His pale gray eyes roamed over my face, down my neck, to where my hands were clasped in my lap. “Good,” he said. “Now, crawl to the bed.”I moved on my hands and knees, the carpet rough against my palms. The bed was low, a wooden frame with a thick white duvet. I stopped at the edge, looking up at him. He followed slowly, his boots heavy on the floor.He stopped in front of
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