If It Flies (Market Garden, #3)(25)

“So you’re a mind reader?”

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“No. Just experienced.” Nick’s expression hardened. “And the one condition of this arrangement, if you want to sign up for it, is that it stays like this. You’re learning to enjoy pain and be a sub. I’m making money. End of story.”

Spencer considered it for a moment. Nick was probably right. He did know his way around all this crap. Spencer was a lab rat just stepping into a maze, and Nick had been through it enough times that he knew what he was talking about when he said “don’t go that way.”

“All right,” he said. “Strictly business, and strictly, uh, training.”

Nick hesitated, and then smiled. “Good. I think this will be fun.”

“I thought it was strictly business?”

“Yeah, well, Mr. High-Powered Lawyer.” He winked.

“Some of us actually enjoy our jobs once in a while.”

Spencer laughed.

Nick moved closer, and Spencer gasped when that slender hand drifted down his chest. “And speaking of which, I’m still on the clock.”

Spencer wanted to say “So you are” or something equally witty, but Nick’s hand slid over his cock and balls, and there was nothing left to say.

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Chapter


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riday evenings became very nearly sacred. Spencer Fcounted himself lucky that Nick had the end of the week available, but Nick told him that most others preferred the weekend or even the middle of the week, so Friday had been for clubbing or going out. He never learned how many other subs Nick was training, though he assumed not too many— it was intense work; he couldn’t imagine Nick dealing with more than a handful.

And the subscription model worked for him. Now that the agreement was fixed, Nick gave him a discount, though Spencer made more money than he had time to spend it. It was more than worth it—the endorphin rush alone, but also what he learned about himself. How much pain he could take, that he could take pain at al , that he could face fear, that he could deal with sensory deprivation, locked away for hours with sweet torture.

It was odd that he felt his strongest while Nick hurt him.

Not hurt hurt, but that moment when the pain came in and receded, like a rol ing wave that bared treasure on the way back—that moment felt always like he’d tapped into an inner strength he’d never before touched or been aware of.

Odd that, especially since he felt so weak and fragile immediately after the sessions. The next day, he was relaxed, confident, and the day after that he started looking forward to the next appointment. He worked harder during the week so he could slip out of the office on time and spend an hour or so getting ready, getting into the headspace.

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Sometimes, he would order restaurant food and they’d have a meal in his kitchen. Sometimes Nick would even indulge in half a glass—never more—of red wine. They’d eat, drink a little, and discuss what they’d do next. Spencer loved the way Nick would lick red wine off his lips in between telling him what wicked plans he had for the evening. Like most things Nick did, that never failed to turn him on beyond reason.

Spencer learned to anticipate and enjoy the whole range of sensation, from Nick gently slapping his face, to the screaming agony of a cane and its deep purple bruise across the arse. With pain that intense, he was just glad that his house was semi-detached and the bedroom was on the far end in an extension with no walls connecting to another house.

He screamed, and even gagged he screamed loud enough to possibly disturb people.

But it was blessed relief when it was over, and Nick soothed him and calmed him and gentled him for hours while Spencer flew without a care in the world.

The body was a funny thing.

For three solid months, it was perfect. Well worth what Spencer paid, whether it was taken out of his wallet or his flesh.And then it all went to shit.

Spencer’s jaw still ached from the ball gag—man, did that thing take some getting used to—and the immediate sting of freshly-inflicted pain was slowly receding in favour of a dull throb, a warm ache.

Sometimes they didn’t f*ck during a scene. Tonight was one of those nights. Strange how the lack of an orgasm didn’t leave Spencer unsatisfied at al .

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Nick looked at him with heavy-lidded bliss in his eyes.

Whatever it was Spencer got out of submitting and taking pain, Nick obviously got it from topping and dishing out pain.

All he knew was that sex—even when it wasn’t technically sex—was far beyond anything it had ever been.

“Maybe next week,” Nick said, slurring just a little, “I should break out the single-tail.”

Spencer swallowed. He’d seen a few videos recently with single-tails. Those things were brutal. But then, he’d also winced at an evil stick not long ago, and now they just made him grumble, which Nick thought was hilarious. He could get used to a single-tail too.

“I’m game,” he said.

“Of course you are.” Nick grinned and ran his fingers over Spencer’s hair just like he always did, except this time he let his fingertips continue down Spencer’s cheek. And stop there, resting against his jaw. “I don’t think I’ve come up with anything yet that you’re not game to try.”

Spencer laughed. “Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.”