Dirty Filthy Fix: A Fixed Trilogy Novella (Fixed #5.5)(33)

Nate wasn’t there when I got to the party, but he never got there early. This time the location was a swanky apartment on the West Side. I’d been to this penthouse before. I’d played on these marble floors.

Tonight, I was being picky with my choice of playmates. I was a wrapped package, and there was only one person I wanted to give a present to. If I had to wait for him to arrive, so be it. I was happy watching. I loved watching.

I made myself comfortable on a lounge chair, and let the Shibari master steal my attention as he tied up a young man I’d never met before. He circled the rope around his subject’s chest, binding him tightly around and around. The ropes both bound and adorned his thighs and his upper arms. They twisted around his chest and his groin, the knots perfectly aligned to create an ornate pattern over the young man’s body.

When the master was done, his subject looked beautiful, secured and ornamented as he was, but he could still move freely, even with his body mostly tied up in rope.

I’d been tied up before—of course I had. But not by a Shibari master. When I’d had ropes around me in the past, it was meant to be bondage. I wasn’t supposed to be able to escape. This man could still move if he wanted. He wasn’t restricted at all. I wondered what it felt like to be so expertly wrapped up in cords and yet not be shackled. What it felt like to be bound, yet still be able to move freely.

There was something beautiful about it. Something that made my eyes sting. Something that made me think about the couple long after the show was over and other entertainment had taken the main spotlight.

An hour passed. The crowd got wilder. The kink got naughtier. The scent of sex grew stronger as each minute passed, the ache between my legs spreading up into my belly. As the night slipped further into itself I worried I’d missed my chance.

It was close to midnight when he finally arrived.

My prince.

He wore a mask, but I knew it was him. I recognized everything about his body, from his bearded jaw to the sculpted frame underneath his tuxedo. My chest tightened as soon as I saw him, and I had to hold myself back so I didn’t leap into his arms. He wasn’t mine. He didn’t come here just to be adored by me. I had to remind myself of that, that these parties were for all of us.

He made eye contact with me though, and I knew from the way he met my gaze that I was still the Only One in the Room for him.

It occurred to me that he might be the Only One in the Room for me too, even with all the other players around us.

The realization was staggering, but it wasn’t like I could just announce it. Not in a room full of men I anonymously served in other ways Monday through Friday.

So as I’d done all night, I waited.

When a game with a young mistress finished, Nate surprised me and took center floor. “Whoever here gives me the best kiss,” he said, circling the room, his eyes scanning over both the ladies and the men, “will get the present that’s in my pocket.”

There was already a line of people, brushing close to him, eager to try out his lips, certain that the present in his pocket was probably a turn with his cock. Who wouldn’t want to adore the cock of this magnificent man? For those who had seen it, they knew it was glorious. For those who hadn’t, it was a mystery they were more than ready to solve.

I watched as he gave kiss after kiss, my belly tightening, my blood humming. I watched as women came up with bare chests and grabbed his hand to grope their breasts as they slipped him their tongues. I watched as a young man pushed him back onto a chair and straddled his lap so he could dominate him with a French kiss.

I was completely wet after that particular scene.

Finally, when the line had dwindled and there was no one else in front of Nate, I stood up. “I’d like a turn,” I said, like he’d said that first night, when he’d still been a stranger.

He gave me a nod, his sexy grin just barely perceptible underneath his beard.

I took off my dress and stood in front of the crowd wearing only my garter and bra. Then I fell to my knees, and I crawled to him on all fours, slowly. Intently. Crawled the way he deserved to be crawled to after the shitty way I’d acted.

When I got to his chair, I laid my head on his knee, and suddenly, my chest felt heavy, like I was wearing a corset and the strings were too tight. My eyes began to water. “I don’t even know if you want me,” I whispered.

He pulled me into his lap. “Why don’t you kiss me and find out?”

I climbed up tentatively and straddled him much the way the dominating man had, but my kiss was gentle, reverent. Pleading. It was a kiss that asked. A kiss that negotiated. A kiss that split the difference between his wants and mine, without even saying a word.

When I was done, I pulled back and looked him in the eyes. “I don’t want to make any assumptions,” I said, repeating the words he’d said to me the last time we’d seen each other.

“Assume,” he said, cutting me off.

I hesitated only a second. “Okay. Then, I assume what’s in your pocket is mine.”

“You bet it is, baby.” He stood up, taking me with him. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private. I have some things to say before I give it to you.”

Someone in the crowd made a joke about him giving it to me, and somebody else booed because they hadn’t been the winner. But pretty soon everyone moved on to their next activity and forgot all about Nate and his pocket and his game.