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  “Please,” she whimpered. I turned my fingers inside of her, rubbing them along her G-spot. She trembled and shook so violently, her inner walls clamping around me, I almost feared I’d pressed her too far.

  “Not yet, sub, we’ve only just begun to play.”

  Another shudder wracked her body and her hand at her side clamped around my forearm.

  I yanked my fingers out of her, holding her steady. “You don’t have permission to touch me, sub.”

  She let go like I’d burned her, but I’d been waiting for that moment, the small slip of her obedience.

  Because now, I got to have all the fun with her I wanted, and I was certain once we started, she would shed her nerves and fear. She’d be so glorious, every Dom in the room would want what I would soon own.

  This woman. I wasn’t letting her go anytime soon, deadlines be damned.

  “Let’s go.” I took her hand in mine. “It’s time for you to return to the cross.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chloe

  Simon tightened the leather band around my wrist. I kept my eyes on him, watching every one of his movements. As if he knew going back on a St. Andrew’s cross would be too much for me, he’d waited until the second one was free. It wasn’t the one I’d been on before, but across the room and blocked from my line of sight. The realization he was giving me a different memory while trying to erase the one I had from a few weeks made my limbs go liquid.

  I was reeling from the revelation I’d shared with him moments ago, but then he touched me, and all of it evaporated into a cloud of dust. His hands moved down my thighs in warming, firm strokes. The feel of his hands on me centered me in unexpected ways. Simon always knew exactly what I needed.

  “Spread your legs wider,” he commanded in a soft but still dominant voice. His fingers were light on my ankles, pulling them apart so he could bind me. He strapped one ankle to the cross and then the other before pressing a kiss to my ankle above the cuff. “Good job, Little Bird.”

  He’d even strapped me differently, facing away from the cross and toward the large room where I could still see the men surrounding the woman I’d wanted to be, not because of the four men, but because of the one, Bennett.

  Had I really finally realized my submission wasn’t about being overpowered and taken, but being worshipped? It sounded egotistical to my own ears, but the admission sent Simon into full Dom mode like I’d pleased him.

  He stood and pressed his chest against mine, staring down at me with all the focus of a lieutenant colonel commanding a battalion of soldiers.

  “How are you doing?” he asked, running his fingertips down my cheek. “Okay?”

  I appreciated he asked. I didn’t need it. I was fully his.

  “I’m well, sir.”

  “Safe words?”

  “Yellow to pause, red to stop, sir.”

  His blue eyes regarded me for a moment before he nodded and stepped back. To the side of the cross was a table with floggers and whips and numerous other implements. My gaze stopped on a pair of clamps similar to what the woman had been wearing on the table. I blinked as Simon grabbed something entirely different.

  Something the complete opposite of what I’d expected.

  “A feather, sir?” I asked, when he turned back to me. A large black feather was in one of his hands.

  “Questioning me, sub?”

  I bit back a smile. Now wasn’t the time to tease him. The overwhelming desire inside of me to please him, to let him take me however he deemed fit, grew so deep inside me it threatened to overwhelm me.

  I shivered, pulling on the bindings as he stepped closer.

  “No, sir, not questioning.”

  He lifted the feather between us and ran it beneath my chin, down the column of my throat. The soft touch tickled, and a flickering sensation followed his movement. I could barely feel it, yet the gentle touch turned my skin hot. Made it prickle.

  “A few moments ago, you admitted what you truly want in a Dom. Do you realize this?”

  He slid the feather down my chest, between my breasts and brushed it beneath one of them before moving to the other.

  “Yes, sir.”

  He stepped forward, continued circling my breasts with the feather. My nipples peaked into hardened points.

  “Do you realize, you didn’t once mention enjoying or wanting pain?”

  My throat dried and my breath heaved as my skin prickled, burning hotter. Everything inside of me came alive, like he’d unlocked the deepest desires of my soul.

  “Answer me, Little Bird.”

  I blinked, focused on Simon standing oh so beautifully close to me. If I wasn’t bound, I could lean forward and brush my lips against his collarbone.

  “I know, sir. I hadn’t known it until I saw it.”

  His eyes lit with pleasure behind his frames and he dropped his head, brushing his lips to my temple. I shivered from the contact, the woodsy scent of his cologne mixed with clean soap.

  “There are dozens of ways to be a submissive, a million different ways a Dom-sub relationship can work. We’ve gone through the contract and we’ve played, but those are just things. They don’t make the relationship. Do you understand?”

  I was only now beginning to.

  He continued, “What pleases me about this, Chloe, is now I know better how to continue with you, and it won’t be because of the canes and clamps and pain. The physical pain those implements bring is only intensified because of how you feel about the man you’re with. Last time, you chose a Dom you didn’t trust, which is probably one of the reasons you couldn’t get into the scene. Without the trust, without the feeling of being revered, you won’t properly relax.”

  While he spoke, he put more space between us, the feather continued to run over every inch of my skin, down to my sex, over my clit. He tickled and teased, and my skin burned until it ached. The touch of the feather turned from soft and gentle to little needles scraping my skin, a million tiny nail pricks.

  He slid the feather through my sex again, along the crease of my inner thighs and I jerked against the bindings, groaning in a mixture of pain and pleasure and desperate need.

  “Sir,” I gasped, yanking against my cuffs. “Please, sir.”

  “You’re okay,” he murmured, continuing to dance the feather of pain over my abdomen, up my chest, the sides of my ribs. “You’re doing well. I’ll tell you another thing that pleases me about knowing this about you. Do you want to know what it is?”

  I shook my head, tugged against the cuffs.

  “No? You don’t?”

  His voice was teasing, torture to my ears. What was he doing to me? Who knew a feather could cause pain in a way I’d never experienced? It was almost worse than the cane. One simple feather tantalized until it was too much.

  I couldn’t drag my eyes away from the intensity in his expression. The tightness around his eyes as he intently focused on me. He’d been right before. He strapped me to a cross and I forgot the entire world around us. People could have been watching me, they could have been crying out in pain or in satisfaction, but it was his voice echoing in my ears, his beautiful, chiseled face captivating me above all else.

  “Please, sir. Tell me.”

  A flicker of a smile ghosted his lips and vanished. “It pleases because I get to be the one to do it.” He tossed the feather and it fluttered to the floor. As he stepped toward me, his chest pressed against mine. He wrapped his hand through my hair and yanked, forcing my head to fall back. “It means I get to worship you, I get to discipline you, and I won’t need to use force to do it.”

  I shuddered, and he grinned, leaned down until his lips were a mere breath from mine. “If I touch you now, would you come?”

  “Yes,” I croaked. “Yes, sir. Please.”

 
His pushed his hand between us. His thumb dipped toward my center and brushed just above my clit.

  “Simon,” I cried, and he was gone. His scent, his touch, his firm grip on my hair. It took moments to realize my mistake and my eyes widened, flared in fear. “Sir, sir, I meant. Please, sir.”

  He grinned wickedly. “I like it when you beg.”

  Cold ice rolled down my spine when he didn’t move.

  The tears swelling in my eyes dripped down my cheeks. God, I needed him.

  Without warning he was touching me again. He avoided my breasts, my stomach, and my hot and swollen, dripping wet sex and his hands went to the bindings, undoing my cuffs from my wrists and rubbing them. He kneeled down and did the same at my ankles. When he’d released me, his hands curved around my hips and he tugged me toward him, my pussy right in front of him.

  Mustering whatever control I had, I left my arms at my sides instead of settling on his head, trying to move him closer. My legs shook, not from bindings but from anticipation.

  “You smell divine,” he said, a salacious gleam in his eyes. “I bet you’ll taste even better.”

  “Why don’t you try it and see?”

  “Ah,” he rocked back and stood. “There’s the sass I was beginning to miss so much.”

  Hope deflated my chest and I whipped my head around, watching him walk away from me. He came back with my dress, my heels in his other hand. Before I could ask what we were doing, he bent in front of me, his shoulder at my stomach and then he stood, tossing me over his shoulder, my eyes on his ass.

  “Hey!” I cried in surprise. I glanced frantically around the room and was only met with amused looks from everyone who bothered to watch him carry me, butt naked, out of the room. “What are you doing?”

  “Whatever I want. And I don’t want anyone else to see your orgasm. They’re for me, my eyes and my ears only.”

  His hand landed on my ass with a clear slap and then we were in the hallway. The cool air wafted over my skin and chill bumps popped on the backs of my thighs. I reached down and held onto the waistband of his black pants so I didn’t fall.

  He stopped at a door, the red light on next to the doorway indicating it was empty.

  Then I was being thrown backwards. I gasped again right before I landed on a firm bed.

  “What?” I asked again and was interrupted by his hand at my mouth, his eyes inches from mine. The room was dark, muted light coming from one side, just enough to catch the intensity in his eyes.

  “If you speak again, you say please and sir, that’s all, do you understand?”

  I nodded frantically against his hand.

  “If you disobey, I will deny you the orgasm you’ve already begged for.”

  My eyes flashed and I squirmed beneath him. Through my covered mouth, I cried, “Please.”

  He pulled back, removing his hand from my mouth and grabbed my hips. He yanked me to the edge of the bed so quickly, I dug my heels in to keep from falling off the edge.

  And before I could beg or plead or do anything, he feasted.

  His warm breath hit my exposed pussy right before his mouth descended, and he didn’t start slowly. He ate and sucked, nibbled on my clit. His fingers and tongue and mouth devoured me like he needed nothing more than the taste of me in his mouth.

  “Please!” I shouted, my fingers digging into the tight covers beneath me. I couldn’t gain purchase. He grabbed my ass, fingertips dug into my backside, lifting me off the bed. I could do nothing except take everything he was giving me, and it was glorious.

  I was bound by nothing yet completely at his mercy.

  Fire shot down my spine, spread through my hips, and as I cried his name, “Sir!” my orgasm claimed me, took me under. Explosions burst behind my closed eyelids and my body shook as he continued eating me, tasting me. He sucked on my clit, bit it to the point of pain and the whole time, my hips vibrated with my climax.

  “Sir,” I begged. It was too much. Too hot, too cold, too harsh, too soft. He ignored my plea, my gasp of his name on my breath, and slid his tongue around my clit, slowing down and building another orgasm at the same time.

  “You’ll come again, and then I’m taking you out of here, where you’ll spend the night with me, doing everything I want you to.”

  “Please.” I nodded frantically. I shook my head, hair falling over my face, blocking my sight of him. “Sir, please.”

  His head dipped back down. He’d taken off his glasses, but his eyes stayed on me while he sucked my clit. Fingers pressed into my pussy and he pushed them in and out, harshly, quickly, slowly. Every brush of his skin against mine, every swirl of his tongue around my clit, heated me. I was a trembling sweaty mess.

  My heels dug into the mattress again, slipping before they fell off the edge of the bed, and then I was only held by his hands on my hips and the change in position, the loss of any control I had, dissipated.

  When my orgasm hit me a second time, I screamed his name, “Simon!” so harshly I was surprised glass didn’t shatter. The bed trembled beneath as I shook and his mouth was gone.

  He stood, holding onto me before gently laying me back to the bed.

  He rolled me over, my body still vibrating. His hands ran soothing circles on my back, massaging it from the position he’d held me in, and then he was at my shoulder, my cheek, pressing soft kisses.

  “Rest for a few minutes. Then we’ll go.”

  * * *

  With his hands on my shoulders, I awoke, heavy eyelids fluttering open.

  Simon’s smile was gentle and kind. His blue eyes softened as he gazed down on me. He’d brought me to sitting, my legs over the side of the bed. “You passed out,” he said. “You okay?”

  “I feel like I’m on a cloud.”

  “Subspace. You hit your second orgasm and passed out immediately. You’ll need to drink orange juice to help with the adrenaline crash.”

  My limbs were warm and heavy.

  His callused hands massaged my bare arms. “Lift your arms,” Simon said. Cool fabric from my dress grazed my skin as he dressed me.

  I allowed it, too relaxed and sleepy to move.

  “Can you stand?”

  He’d given me two orgasms, and I felt like I was swimming through thick oil. Everything moved slowly, too much work. My mouth couldn’t form words I wanted to speak. Sounds were muffled and far away even though he spoke close to me. This man. This amazing man did the most amazing things to me.

  He guided me to my feet, my shoes in his hands. “I’ll carry you to the car when we get outside. Not sure you could balance on these heels right now.”

  “Okay.”

  “You’ll feel better soon.” He held a glass of juice in front of me, and I took it from him. My hand shook as I held it and brought it to my lips. As soon as the sour, cold juice hit my tongue, I swallowed it down, drained it in one large gulp and handed it back to him. “More, please.”

  Instead of more juice, he turned and grabbed a bottle of water. “Drink this slowly while we leave. You’ll be fine by the time we get to my place.”

  Where he’d said we’d play more, where he’d do whatever he wanted to do to me. I shivered at the possibilities. Could I take any more? We hadn’t even had sex and yet I was more worn out than I could ever remember being.

  “Cold?” He draped my coat over my shoulders and rubbed my arms quickly, warming me.

  “Overwhelmed, I think,” I admitted.

  “Understood.” I blinked and lifted my head, meeting Simon’s gaze. At my confused expression, he smirked. “You experienced a lot tonight, emotionally and physically. But you’ll rally, I’m sure of it. Are you good to go or do you need a few more minutes?”

  “How long was I asleep?” I twisted and opened the bottle of water with still trembling fingers. “Feels like
hours.”

  “Two minutes, tops.”

  I chugged the water bottle and wiped the sides of my mouth to catch leftover drops. “Huh.”

  “Come on.” He took my hand and pulled me next to him. My shoes were still in his other hand but I didn’t reach for them. Tonight he’d shown me he knew exactly what I needed and wanted. I trusted him on the cross, I could certainly trust him to know when I needed my feet covered.

  Together, we walked back through the club. Whereas before all the sounds and voices and clink of glasses had seemed to melt away, leaving me only with Simon to focus on, the way out was the opposite.

  Laughter made me flinch, the lights made me squint, the sounds of clinking glasses and bottles being drained behind the bar were as loud as the chime of bells of my childhood church.

  Everything was heightened, awakened and brighter in a way I hadn’t realized earlier. Perhaps it was the adrenaline crash, or maybe it was still rushing through my veins.

  Perhaps it was simpler than that.

  After all, Simon had just spent the last several hours revealing to me a part of myself I might not have found without him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chloe

  He didn’t give me my shoes back. Instead, when we were halfway through the social meeting room, he’d picked me up and carried me to his car with an arm behind my back and the other under my knees. I’d wrapped my arms around his neck and shoved my face into his chest, smiling when his laugh rumbled against me. In any other club we would have gained attention, in Luminous, no one looked our way.

  Much of the car ride back to Simon’s house in River Hills was quiet. We didn’t speak much. I used the time to replay the night in my head. I assumed his quietness was a way for him to allow me to continue thinking everything over.

  When I’d first begun thinking and fantasizing of a kinky-sex lifestyle, I’d always imagined spankings and cuffs and the rougher sides of sex. I assumed the rough sex came along with the domination, and they couldn’t be separated. Simon was offering me something completely antithetical. My previous lovers had all been good men. I couldn’t think of a relationship that had ended because the guy cheated, or was a jerk, or too lazy. As the lights of the city disappeared behind us and the glow of the suburb beckoned, guilt rolled through me. A few of them had walked away from me, men I’d truly cared about because I had tried to push them, to manipulate them into controlling me and dominating me in the way I’d believed I needed.