Chapter Thirty-Seven
W hy did he have to go and say something like that, something that wasn’t true? Every second of every moment I’d spent with him inside Pendulum had felt like an awakening.
It had meant everything to me.
Upstairs, I found sanctuary in another room and slammed the door behind me. I sat down on the hardwood floor, wrapping my arms around my knees. Wanting to leave and stay at the same time was a mind-fuck.
The door opened and Greyson stalked in. I braced myself for his wrath.
He knelt before me. “I recall every second of that night at Pendulum. Of course, I do.”
I blinked up at him, trying to read his expression. “I thought maybe…”
He leaned forward and tipped up my chin. “Watching you come by your own hand is far different from making you come.”
“Is that an invitation?”
“It’s a warning.”
“We made love in the pool.” I pulled my head away from his grip. “Or did you forget that?”
“Exactly, we made love.”
“I need more.”
He gave me a gentle smile. “More?”
“I’m privileged. No need to remind me. But what that also means is I will never experience the world like another woman.”
“That’s actually a privileged perspective,” he said softly.
I let out a sigh of frustration.
“Cameron pursues his fantasies. I don’t know everything that happens at Chrysalis, but I know enough.”
Greyson’s brows arched thoughtfully. “Are you asking for a session?”
“What does that involve?”
“First, you find a Dom.”
I pointed at Greyson. “Done.”
“Next, you choose a safe word.”
“I can do that.”
“Then, you agree to submit.”
My face grew warm and flushed. “I’ll pay you.”
“Willa, thirty-three years ago, a tremendous investment was placed in my name. I’ve never touched it. I have no need for money.”
“With interest?” I said, business brain kicking in.
“Yes.”
“You’re a multimillionaire.”
“I am, yes.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I’m with you because I want to be. Not for what I can get from you.”
Still, I’d had no idea. “You don’t act rich.”
“I don’t touch that money. I only spend what I make from my designs.”
I understood his solitude, after what his father had done. “It’s hard to know who to trust.”
“You breathe life into this house,” he said quietly.
“You breathe life into me, Greyson.”
“What do you want, Willa?”
“Just this once…”
He understood my meaning.
There was a change in him, a silent reasoning as he considered his next move. “I wouldn’t want you to go through life feeling like you’re missing out.”
“What do I have to do?”
He pushed up and towered over me. “It gets filthy.”
“Are you saying yes?”
“I’m saying kneel.”
My throat tightened.
“Now.”
I got into position, on my knees, peering up at him, and in that moment, I saw a change in Greyson, from gentleman to master.
He rested his palm on the top of my head. “There can be no mixed signals. No confusion. Communication is everything.”
I gave a nod.
“If at any time it gets too much, just say so, Willa. We can…make love the way you like.”
“Treat me like one of your submissives.”
“You’re not there yet.”
Frustrated, I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. “Then what is this?”
“Stand.”
He offered me his hand and I got to my feet.
Greyson prowled around me. “Eyes straight ahead.”
I snapped to attention, stunned by his tone, which had turned sharp and insistent. I was surprised when he began to undress me.
Kicking off my shoes, I helped him peel off my T-shirt and shorts, sliding out of my underwear.
It was the way his warm hands swept over my nakedness as he circled me, stirring a burning sensation along my flesh, even though his touch was gentle.
“Show me your clit,” he said, his voice husky.
I froze, wide-eyed.
“Do it.”
Reaching low, I eased apart my folds, blushing wildly, second guessing my decision to do this, be this, and yet the rush was like leaping out of a plane—sudden and impossible to change my mind afterwards.
And I was falling, swooning even, as he clutched my hair and tilted my head up to meet his kiss. But he teased me, his lips close but not touching mine.
I jolted when one of his hands landed on mine, correcting the way I parted my labia, as though it wasn’t good enough for him, and this was his way of scolding me to improve my stance. With a thumb, he swept along my core and nodded with approval, having found me wet. That caress between my thighs felt unbearably perfect.
Cruel too, because he withdrew his hand to nudge my shoulders back, as he worked on correcting my pose.
“Like this,” he said. “If you want to be considered a good submissive.”
“I do.”
“Call me, sir.” His voice sounded husky with his own arousal.
“Sir,” I said breathlessly.
His hands brushed over me, his palms exploring me, cupping my breasts as he teased my nipples.
I turned my face away, feeling exposed, feeling the intensity of his gaze.
Then, when he squeezed my nipples I felt relief—he was tending to their craving for this, for his brilliant technique of playing with them.
When his hand gripped my throat, I shuddered.
What if I came too quickly? I was afraid of disappointing him, feeling unable to endure what I wanted more than my next breath, feeling desperate for my one chance with Greyson like this.
He knelt in front of me and caressed my thighs. “There’s going to be a lot of pleasure. I need you to hold on and ride the waves. Understand?”
“I’ll try.”
“Let me show you.” He leaned in and his tongue glided slowly over my sex.
Pleasure burst brightly into my consciousness.
Then, he pulled back and stared up at me. “If you come without permission, you will be spanked.”
I squeezed my thighs tighter, trying to hold off on a release after he dove back in, as if I was the only water in the desert, and without me he would die. His frenzied lapping, his hungry suckling, nearly pushed me over the edge.
“I’m close.”
He pulled away and stared up at me. “You’re very sensitive.”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I was merely thinking that if you were mine, I would need to fuck you all the time. I would make that my mission in life.”
“Oh, God,” I said, smirking.
“Find that funny?” He rose to his feet, showing a flash of anger. “Let’s see how you smile when I choke you with my cock.”
“Yes, please, sir.”
“Down!”
Kneeling before him again, I reached for his zipper and pulled him out, running my hands over his impressive shaft, and taking him into my mouth.
Opening wide, I immediately was hit with the perfect combination of smooth and iron-hard texture. I dragged my tongue down one side and then suckled his tip, satisfied to hear him let out a deep groan.
It was impossible not to need his cock tobe mine, finding comfort in having him inside my mouth. It was almost magical, like I’d discovered something rare, a piece of him that felt sacred. Running my fingers along his shaft, I admired his enormity while staring up into his eyes, seeing admirationand lust all morphing into one as I sucked on the tip of his shaft.
“More later,” he teased, pulling away from me and tucking himself away.
I felt petulant, as though he had taken away something I craved with my entire being.
He gestured toward the door. “Walk with me.”
It was the way he commanded me that made me lightheaded.
I rose to my feet, and we walked together down the stairs. Around a corner we came to another short set of stairs that led to what I assumed was a basement. When we got to the bottom of the steps, there was another room—the same one I had shown interest in previously when I’d found the door locked. I had refrained from asking him about it.
“Welcome to the Obsidian Suite.”
I swallowed hard, trying to fathom what came next…
He punched a code into the keypad by the side of the door.
It opened, revealing darkness.
Stepping inside the room, I tried to make sense of what I saw in the dimness.
It was clearly a room for kinky sex, but many of the items were covered in silk sheets, as though they hadn’t been used.
Greyson acknowledged my confusion. “Atticus and Jake designed this for me.”
He turned on the light.
This secret setting was the essence of glamour. This sanctuary, bathed in a soft, ethereal glow, was seemingly a refuge for submissives.
Greyson began dragging the silken sheets off each piece, and I helped him. A St. Andrew’s Cross was revealed, along with a large bed with the softest sheets, and an assortment of other contraptions. Shelves on the walls offered up a collection of fine tools of pleasure.
“Everything you might need,” I mused.
“Pretty much.”
He worked on choosing music for our session. Massive Attack blasted through the speakers.
We were being submerged in a hauntingly smooth, atmospheric world that was both familiar and completely new.
Everything about this chamber was mesmerizing.
Each corner was a testament to luxury, from the plush velvet seating to the ornate couch. Some items were covered with burnished rose gold to reveal they must have shipped in the finest fetish furniture.
Whatever I had expected before stripping off, it wasn’t this, because once inside this chamber, I knew I had offered myself up to be played with in here—with all of this as a sensual backdrop.
Dear God .
“A slice of heaven,” I said, arching a brow.
“Or hell, depending on the way you look at it.”
Shuddering, I tried to convey that I wanted to try all of it, every piece, every structure—my body was screaming out for it all.
“Fuck me,” I whispered.
Greyson stormed over and kissed me hard on my mouth, and I surrendered to his fierce strike, tasting his kiss, craving it as he made me feel I was all he could ever want.
We were opposites in so many ways, but together we forged a perfect union.
He led me over to the center of the room and together we peered up at the chain hanging from the ceiling. Metal handcuffs dangled from the end.
Within seconds, he had my wrists bound together and tightly secured in those cuffs.
My lover stalked around me, his caresses exploring me everywhere, over my arms and belly, and then he gripped me behind my neck and dragged me in for another kiss, twisting my neck so that I was at his mercy. I was trembling, not from the cold but the tension, this awful sense of danger, but at the same time I loved every second of this.
He licked a trail up my neck. “Forbidden fruit always tastes sweeter.”
Greyson jerked me toward his mouth again.
Then, came the sensation of his fingers trailing downward, easing between my thighs, cupping me there like he was proving his ownership.
I felt exhilarated, having exposed myself to such an exciting act, even if there were carefully curated borders.
Grayson was doing this to me. That gave me more confidence to continue, even as I sensed he was a wild card and might lean toward his own kinks.
Taking his time, he stepped away so that he could light candles. Observing him, I was mesmerized with the state of grace with which he set the scene. Those small flames offered up an intoxicating blend of jasmine and sandalwood, enhancing the ambiance.
Greyson returned to stand before me. “Each time you come, you say, ‘For you, master.’”
“Yes, sir.”
“In this room, you belong to me.”
Swallowing hard, I let the words tumble out. “I belong to no one.”
“Out there, you belong to an empire. But even they can’t help you in here.”
I felt a flash of uncertainty, yet my nipples hardened with arousal, as though the danger was an aphrodisiac, and I wanted to drink it all the way down.
He pressed his right palm to the base of my spine and reached around with his other hand and flicked my clit. “Your cunt responds well. But we can do better.”
Greyson let go, and my body felt the loss of the pleasure. Like he had revved me up and then stopped far too soon.
I heard the chain clinking, then came the tug as he raised the bindings around my wrists and the metal links rose, forcing me onto my toes.
“It’s easy to come, but the art of submission is waiting for permission. Shall we test your obedience?”
“Yes, sir.”
He sank to his knees before me. “Don’t get any ideas. The only worshipping being done here is of your clit.”
“I’m yours.”
His kiss to my sex…even though I knew it was coming, it shocked me—his tongue lavishing a shocking pleasure.
“Fight me,” he whispered, mouth clamping back onto me.
Writhing, I fought against his savage assault, even as he demanded more pleasure out of me. He reached up and gripped my nipples, pinching them, even as I struggled against his control.
Our struggle was turning me on wildly. The more frenzied I became the more heated his desire became. His tonguing of my clit was perfectly timed with his twisting fingers.
“You are forbidden to come,” he said, lapping my sex, his tongue exploring every crevice.
I arched my back, wrapping my legs around him to demand more attention, keeping him in place.
God, how much I craved this man.
The man who possessed my clit…
In his realm, I became the hunted and he the hunter. Greyson, a sublime enigma who engulfed my every thought.
His mouth provided a frenzied pressure, licking and biting and suckling, igniting a feverish longing to be taken in a place like this.
It was like he was driven by an insatiable need, a boundless craving for me, too,
as though his pursuit was an all-encompassing symphony of torment and ecstasy.
I was close to exploding into a thousand pieces, close to letting go…
He peered up at me, lips wet from my arousal. “Willa, must I force a punishment?”
“I don’t understand.”
“This orgasm is mine.” He pushed my legs away and stood up. “There can be no misunderstanding.”
“Right.”
“Your first time in here, there are expectations.” He tilted his head with disapproval. “A standard to be met.”
Shaking my head, I tried to understand his meaning.
He strolled away and I spun around to see what he was doing, flinching when I saw the whip.
He brushed it against my flesh, the curl of the strap tickling as it stroked against skin.The quiet music settled around me, with the gentle flow of my thoughts and the rhythm of the tapping of the curl at the end. He pressed it between my thighs, light and fluid, and with one sweeping motion, the first thrust struck my sex.
The whip danced, twisting and turning as it glided across me.
The music changed to something sensual, as though even the soundtrack wanted us to fuck.
He walked away.
A bead of sweat trickled down my brow as I fell forward, caught in the cuffs, proof of my arousal snaking down my thighs. I felt the weight of the world lifting—this wasn’t just pleasure, it was freedom.
With a gentle coaxing, a whisper, he reassured me I was brave enough now, a mere moment away from intoxicating joy. Patiently explaining what was to come. What he wanted me to experience next.
My breath caught in my throat as I felt the pressure of a butt plug eased into my anus.
He soothed. “You are ready for it, trust me.”
The delicate flower of my body opened for it, bringing pressure, the sensations finally soothing me, bringing a fullness, the tender pleasure felt like a finishing touch to his preparation.
Even this chamber pulsed with life, each item carefully chosen, each a masterpiece of design, and there came a satisfaction he was using it for the first time with me.
Greyson strolled over to the other side of the room and turned around a tall frame and there before us reflected a mirror, revealing us in all our drama. Me strung up, him now stalking behind me, pressing his body to mine.
“Your cunt is about to be rewarded,” he said huskily. “But only if you completely surrender.”
With a nod, I told him I would, that I needed desperately to feel what he was promising.
Greyson reached around and eased opened my labia, his gaze rising and holding mine in the mirror.
My sex was opening like a flower for him, shiny and wet, blooming with delicate grace, my labia of soft petals unfurling under his touch as he eased them open.
He showered me with soft light kisses there so we could both admire my pussy in the glow, as if even that was paying homage to my body.
He held me like this for a long time, standing behind me, his look of awe, seemingly overwhelmed by the timeless beauty of my nakedness. And his command of it, of me.
My clit was terribly aroused and pulsing with ecstasy. A soft moan escaped me from the erotic tension, as I proved the strain of waiting.
“Willa,” he said, his tone severe. “This pussy is mine, and no one else can claim it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Watch and obey.” He rested a fingertip on my clit and circled slowly. “This is how you deserve to be touched.”
This time, the pleasure was too bright, too cruel, too brilliant, leaving me speechless, sucking all air from my lungs as I realized why—he’d also slipped two fingers inside me with his hand from behind, and was fingerfucking me in the same slow rhythm of his fingertip. This and the pressure of the plug was more than bliss, it was heaven itself and I was one of the chosen, beloved in this moment.
My hips rocked against him, responding to his sexual ministrations.
He began to spank my pussy—hard.
“Remain still.” His voice echoed around me.
I couldn’t hold it together for much longer. He had mentioned something about an intense orgasm.
Wanting this, I was still terrified of what kind of pleasure he meant. Wondering if I could handle it, handle him.
His spanking my clit and fingering my vagina, mastering my body with verve, was too much and yet I strove to honor the brilliance of his artistic mastery.
In the dimness, I failed to make sense of the pure perfection of this moment that knocked me out of my body—or so it felt, proving transcendence was real.
Greyson’s stroking inside me, and the noise made as he spanked me there, the thrilling shock tearing through me as his slapping coordinated with brilliant finger fucking, my mirrored image staring back aghast and yet eyes wide with an aliveness never experienced before—it brought me to the brink.
“Pressure?” he asked, checking in with me.
“Harder,” I begged, needing his palm to crush that tender nub.
He delivered his expert strikes, his violent palm crashing against my pussy, stealing all my reason, his punishment draping itself around my entire body like a silken shroud, tender and yet heavy.
Chasing after my release with my entire soul, I shuddered against these exquisite sensations, worsening my obsession for him.
He was inside of me and outside, he was above and below. In his arms, I was pulled into a world I never knew yet always belonged to. Every touch, flicker, every strike brought a storm, leaving my heart to beat in fierce rhythms it had never known.
In this moment, loving him, loving what he gave and did to me, was not a choice, but the very breath I shared with him, sudden and unyielding.
“For my master!” I screamed it.
Coming hard, my climax stole the oxygen from the room.
Thighs trembling, I neared the outer stratosphere, disappearing into some dark place and yet the brightest place I had ever seen, all boundaries dissipating, unable to grasp what was real and what wasn’t.
Greyson was gauging how much longer he could touch me there. As I jerked and trembled drawing out the last whimpers of pleasure.
Then his palm caressed where he’d slapped me, softening the discomfort, the dreaded burn, causing me to float into a dreamscape, suspending me between what I dreaded and what I craved.
He unlocked my cufflinks and lifted me, carrying me over to a burgundy throne.
I smirked that it was literally a regal chair you would find in a palace.
“Are you going to worship me?” I asked, eyelids heavy.
“Ten.”
“Ten what?”
“Ten orgasms. You earned your way in. You also have to earn your way out.” With that, he lifted my thighs and flung them on either side of the armrests, exposing me completely to him.
How was this even possible?
Standing, he unzipped his pants and with one thrust, he buried himself deep inside of me. “Any man who comes near you gets burned.”
“That’s not true.”
“We both know that it is.”
I squeezed my eyes shut at the truth of it.
“That’s why they cower,” he said.
I breathed. “What about you?”
“Never. I’ll match your fire.”
His animal magnetism mingled with his rich cologne, his thrusts deep and fierce, bringing a new surge of pleasure.
I was being driven near to madness from the thrill of his pounding, the spectacular rhythm of his hips, the slapping of our bodies echoing around us, bringing the sweet pang of absolution, as all guilt and uncertainty left me. Our sweat and juices mingled—we were slick with my arousal.
“You’re a filthy girl,” he said, tautness in his throat.
“It feels…” I couldn’t finish that sentence, trying to comprehend this kind of passion existed and I might never have experienced it.
“You feel so damn good, Willa.”
“My cunt is yours,” I said, breathless.
“Yes, it is.” The exquisite bite of his sharp words thrilled me.
He grabbed a lock of my hair and pressed his mouth to mine, biting my lip and then devouring me, savaging my tongue as he sucked and searched, our mouths belonging to each other, as though we had always been destined to be this.
He pounded me into oblivion.
A strange liberation, a paradox where pain unfurled into pleasure, and within that tangled embrace, I was whole, the fractured pieces glinting like glass under a soft, forgiving light.
I found a rare solace as he pinched my left nipple and I was caught in his grip, the tug on my hair matching the tug on the pink flesh as he twisted my areola.
The lines between us were blurred, as though we were really one, bleeding into each other, as I surrendered to the haze.
I came again, in a fit of bliss and fury, struggling against his fucking, my moans growing louder. “Greyson.”
“Come,” he demanded, and for him, I did, and it was glorious.
Because we came together.
He stiffened his back as he emptied inside of me, his body shuddering, his heat welcomed by my channel as it clutched him possessively. We were like one of his creations, only more sacred, having designed our own hallowed space, both of us lost and found, as though time itself had bent to welcome our hearts.
“For you,” I screamed, climaxing again, forgetting the other words I had been ordered to say.