Not Safe for Work(71)

“N-no. Sorry.”

I eased my grip and kissed his cheek. “That’s what I thought.” I paused, turning serious. “Anything tingles or gets cold, say so.”

Rick nodded. “Understood.”

“Safe word?”

“Red.”

“And you can use it…?”

“Any time.”

“Good.” I kissed beneath his jaw. “I’m going to tie your ankles.”

He nodded again. “Okay.”

I held his gaze, looking for any reason to believe it wasn’t actually okay. Finding none, I kissed him again, this time on the mouth. Then I returned to the table for more rope.

As I bound his ankle, I glanced up. His eyes were closed, but his breathing was still even and his fingers still loosely curled. So far, so good.

Footsteps turned my head. Master Greg, a gigantic Dom who’d been a member for eons, appeared in the doorway. He scanned the room, probably to make sure he wasn’t interrupting an in-progress scene, and then met my gaze. “You gentlemen need anything?”

“No, we’re good. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” And then he disappeared.

“Owner?” Rick asked, eyeing the empty doorway.

“No. Just a guy who’s been here forever.” I paused to tug on the knot and make sure it was secure. “They always have some people wandering around to make sure things are going smoothly. You know, in case a sub is getting in over their head, or a scene is getting out of hand somehow.”

His eyes widened. “Do they have that much of a problem with Doms who don’t know what they’re doing?”

“No, not at all. I guess… I mean, every sub should feel safe with his Dom, but that extra added safety net is good for that rare occasion when a bad apple makes it in here.”

“What happens when they do?”

I gestured at the door. “Did you see that guy? He could break somebody in half.”

Rick laughed. “Good point.”

“Personally, I’m all for anything that makes people feel secure enough to play.” I knotted the rope, and then stood, gritting my teeth when my knees crackled, but at least the squeak of my leather trousers masked the sound. “You feel safe and secure, right?”

He glanced at the rope on his wrist. “Secure would definitely describe it, yes.”

I bit back a laugh and moved closer. “Smartass.”

“Sorry.” He cringed. “I didn’t—”

I cupped his cock and balls again. “You seem to keep forgetting who’s in charge here.”

“No. Not forgetting. Just—” He gulped. “Lightening the mood?”

“Mmhmm. One would almost think you want me to torture the hell out of you just to remind you who’s in charge.”

He schooled his expression, but his dick gave him away, stiffening in my hand.

“You like the sound of that, don’t you?”

He watched me for a second, then nodded. “I like…I like the way you torture me.”

“You want to be tortured like that woman in the other room? With the wax?”

The shudder that ran through him shook his whole body hard enough to make the ropes creak and protest. “Yes.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

He closed his eyes, pulling in a deep breath through his nose. “Thank you.”

“If you behave.” I trailed a hand up his side. “Which means no being a smartass. Understood?”

“Yes.” He nodded vigorously. “Under…understood.”

“And no coming when I haven’t given you permission.”

“N-no coming. Got it.”

“Look at me, Rick.”

He slid his gaze toward me, and if I hadn’t been hard already, I’ve have gotten that way in a hurry. One look at those beautiful eyes—lids heavy over blown pupils—and I was definitely glad I’d included condoms and lube in my kit tonight. Sex didn’t always come into play at a club like this. Tonight? Oh yes. It would.

I teased his nipple with my thumbnail. “You are amazingly sexy when you’re like this, you know that? Tied up. All mine. I can tease you. I can flog you. That bag’s got all kinds of evil toys in it.” I ran my hand down his quivering abs and over his cock. “Or I could just do this”—I stroked him slowly, lightly, my grip so loose I was barely touching him at all—“and not let you come.”

He dug his teeth into his lower lip. His bindings creaked, but he didn’t seem to mind, and as much as his position allowed, he rocked his hips, f*cking into my hand.

I let go. He cursed.

Chuckling, I teased his balls with the lightest touch imaginable. “If I wanted to, I could get down on my knees and suck your dick, and you’d still be at my mercy. Under my control. Wouldn’t you?”

“Y-yes.” His jaw was tight, his skin already beginning to flush from his throat down onto his chest.

“In theory,” I whispered, “I could even f*ck myself on your—”

Nearby, someone cried out. Pain, ecstasy—could’ve been either or both. Either way, Rick’s eyes flicked toward the sound. His body tensed, and the ropes creaked. His eyes darted up to one tightly clenched fist. Then the other. His Adam’s apple bobbed.