Not Safe for Work(74)

“Very much.” He moistened his lips. “Honestly, I think it was just the club that got to me. The people, all the sounds…” He gestured sharply. “I guess it was just too much. But yes, I need this. I need to shut everything out and…”

“Fly?”

“Yeah,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “Fly.”

I studied him. “Promise me something.”

“What?”

“The first sign of trouble, even if you just need to scratch an itch or something, you safe-word. We can always start again, but tonight, I want you to err on the side of using your safe word.”

Rick nodded. “Okay. Yeah, I will.”

I rested a hand on his hip. “And you’re absolutely sure about this?” I caressed his cheek with my free hand. “We can always pick up tomorrow night.”

“I’m sure. The crowd… That was a bit much. But I still want to do this with you.”

“I also don’t want anything I do tonight to seem like punishment for earlier. Like if I’m f*cking with you or if there’s pain.”

He smiled and clasped his hand over mine. He turned his head, kissed my palm, and murmured, “None of that is punishment to me.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do.” He met my gaze, and his smile made my knees shake. “I know when you’re punishing me and when you’re not.” Rick cupped my face in both hands and kissed me. More assertive than perhaps a submissive should have kissed his Dom, but given the way things had played out tonight, I didn’t push back. I wrapped my arms around him and let him kiss me.

As we pulled apart, he whispered. “Was that…was that out of line?”

“Not tonight it wasn’t.” I kissed him lightly, and then let him go. “But starting now, you’re going to do as you’re told, and not make a move unless I tell you to.”

He straightened, almost like a soldier snapping to attention.

I slid my hand over the front of his pants. “Understand?”

Rick gulped. “Yes. Understood.”

“Good. All right, let’s do this.” I put my hands on his shoulders and locked eyes with him. “Go upstairs and wait in my bedroom.”

He nodded. “Okay. And…thank you.”

I kissed him once more. “You’re welcome. Go.”

He started up the stairs, and I went down to the basement. In the dungeon, I flicked on the lights. The familiar room was eerily silent compared to the dull hum of activity at the mansion. No cracks of leather against flesh. No cries of pain, pleasure or anything in between.

I didn’t want to leave Rick alone for long upstairs, but I paused to take a few breaths and collect myself. I needed my A-game on even more than earlier. That one freak-out could’ve been the end of it, or it might’ve left him raw and vulnerable, ready to unravel at the first sign of uncertainty. Rick didn’t seem brittle, but a Dom couldn’t be too careful.

Collected and composed, I grabbed a few things from the cabinets and drawers, stuffed them into a duffel bag so they were easier to carry, and then went back up to my bedroom.

Just as I knew he’d be, he was completely undressed and waiting. I dropped the duffle bag on the floor and pulled his naked body to me and kissed him deeply.

This was a familiar environment. A safe one. There was nobody here but us. Nothing to startle or distract him. If he had any inkling that I was disappointed in him, or that tonight had made me want him any less, I had every intention of disabusing him of that notion.

I broke the kiss and met his gaze. “Ready?”

“Very,” he whispered.

I kissed him once more and then let him go. Without a word, I picked up the duffel bag. I unzipped it, and Rick watched as I laid its contents across the foot of the bed—a black spreader bar. A pair of handcuffs. The Wartenberg wheel I’d tortured him with before.

“Still want to do this?” I asked.

He met my gaze. “Oh yeah.”

Sweet Jesus…

I resisted the urge to clear my throat and let it show that I was even a little bit off balance. “I’m not going to keep you on your knees, because I don’t want you to be in pain.” I pointed toward the bed. “Instead, you’re going to bend over the mattress.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay. Just…anywhere?”

“Wherever is comfortable.”

He stepped up to the side and, as ordered, leaned over it.

“Good,” I said. “Now stretch your arms out in front of you.”

He obeyed, and I leaned across the mattress from the other side and snapped the cuffs around his wrists. I guided his thumb to the safety catch. “You remember how to work these?”

He pressed the catch, and the cuff released.

“Good.” I closed it again. Then I picked up the spreader bar. The chains attached to the leather cuffs clinked, and Rick pulled in a deep breath.

Without speaking, I came around the bed to where he was standing. “Once this is on, do not try to stand up or take a step. Understood?”

He nodded, his chin hissing against the comforter. “Understood.”

I knelt and positioned the spreader bar between his feet and fastened it to each of his ankles, all the while keeping a close eye on him in case of even the faintest hint of panic. He stayed still and calm, though. His breathing was steady. Even. I gave him another thirty seconds or so to get used to the bar, to panic if he was going to, and he remained perfectly composed.