Danielle<

I lay limp in Mr. Grant’s strong arms as he carried me into the cave, sweaty and hazed out from my orgasms.

The door closed behind us, and he whispered in my ear. “What’s your safe word?”

“white,” I said, grinning against his shoulder, thinking of the day he’d ripped my white shirt off after it stained.

His low laugh made his chest rumble against my cheek. “white, it is.”

He stopped in front of a swing suspended from the ceiling by heavy duty metal hooks, the leather straps on the side ending in cuffs that I eyed with longing.

Mr. Grant lifted me into it as if I...