Chapter 23
Kaiser
Bella’s up to something. She’s pliant and eager, as if resigned to her fate.
I don’t trust it. But I can’t keep my hands off her.
It’s not just sexual. Every time we’re in the same room, I have my hands on her. My hand at the small of her back, guiding her. On the back of her neck, massaging the tight muscles until she relaxes.
In the morning, I brush her hair and dress her like she’s my little doll.
In the afternoon, after her classes, we watch a terrible vampire show together while I rub her feet.
After an episode or two, I lie down and set her on top of me, so she can grind her pussy on me.
Even fully clothed, she can come like that, with me goading her.
“I want it inside me,” she whines.
“Not yet, little bride.” I pinch her nipples, enjoying her pout.
“You’re going to make me wait until marriage?” She sounds aghast.
“Maybe,” I say, to torture her. “Maybe I’m old-fashioned.”
She snorts.
“Maybe I don’t want to hurt you.” But I do hurt her, pinching her nipples to make her rock faster.
Before we’re married, I intend to make her come in every room of this house.
Fuck her on every rug. Prop her legs over the arms of every chair and eat her out.
Press her face into each window while I rail her from behind.
But I’m taking it easy. Going slowly. Putting her through her paces.
“You’re kind of gentle with me,” she says one night after a long scene. “You don’t really hurt me.”
I stroke her silky hair. “You don’t need pain.”
“You don’t like inflicting pain. You think it makes you a bad person.
A lot of doms think that.” She’s so solemn as she tells me about the articles on dom drop she’s been reading.
“You don’t have to hold back, Kaiser. You can punish me.
” She reaches up, tentatively, to touch my hair.
I allow it for a few seconds before capturing her hand and pressing a kiss to the palm.
“I don’t want to punish you. I want you to purr for me.” I knead the back of her neck until her eyes half close. I spent most of my life in the rings punishing people. Hurting them. I want something different with her. “I like it when you relax and go limp on me.”
“Is that why you wear me like a weighted blanket every night?”
I trail my fingers down her spine and cup her bottom. I could tell her that I’ve never liked it when people touched me, but I crave the feel of her draped over me. I could tell her that she’s the only one I’ve wanted this way.
But I don’t. I don’t dare allow her that power over me.
She has power over me all the same.
“There are other ways to punish you.” I edge my fingers toward her pussy.
She jerks her hips away, but I hold her fast. “No,” she whines, dropping her forehead on my chest as she whines. “Too many.”
“But I need another taste,” I whisper in her ear. I’m already hard again under her. I don’t want to come, I just want to kiss her pretty pussy while my balls ache. “Please.”
“Oh no…”
But she doesn’t have a choice. I pull her up so she’s sitting on my face and hold her there no matter how much she squirms. She’s beautiful like this, her lithe body above me, her nipples like ripe berries.
Her hair is falling around her face, her eyes are wild, and her sex is dripping nectar into my mouth.
She sighs, but after a minute, she’s pressing herself into my mouth. I fuck her with my tongue as she grips my hair, grinding desperately against me.
I’m training her to crave me. Every night, I send her to the bedroom to prepare for me. I give her instructions. She’s to shower, shave, and wait for me naked, kneeling on the bed.
She never obeys. She always pushes it. One night, she’ll be in a schoolgirl outfit. Next, a hot pink push-up bra and thong that matches the ropes I wind around her.
My dick swells as soon as I walk in the room and smell the candles she’s always burning. My mouth waters as soon as I get a hit of her scent. I can’t remember what it was like to not want anyone to touch my dick. I want her hands and mouth on me all the time, and she’s all too willing to oblige.
She always wears a full face of makeup, so much so that it’s almost clownish. I make it my personal mission to destroy it. My favorite is when she brushes glitter on her cheeks. I make her lick me until there’s glitter all over my fucking balls. It’s obscene what I do to her.
But she loves it. She loves to act like a brat, but she craves being my little slut.
“This is how you kneel for me,” I instruct her during a session with a crop.
“And this is how you crawl for me.” She crawls so prettily, I reward her with a warming oil on her pussy. And then she sasses me, so I punish her with peppermint oil.
I keep imagining her in my collar. My skin tingles, imagining me laying her down and finally fucking her.
I fantasize about claiming her. Dragging her down to the Abyss, saying our vows, and sealing them with blood. Marriage vows are nothing compared to that claiming ritual.
What would it be like for her to truly be mine?
“I’m taking you to Club Empire,” I finally tell her.
Her eyes light up.
“All of my brothers will be there. Them and their chosen ones. The elitas.” I know her friend told her about the elitas. I know she’s fascinated. That might be why she’s played the part of being my perfect toy—to learn more about the ritual.
And she’s good. She’s almost got me fooled into forgetting she wants to destroy me.
If I’m not careful, I’ll let her under my skin, more than she already is.
Bella
Tonight’s the night. Kaiser binds me with a rope that creates an elaborate harness around my torso. He’s taking me to Pandemonium.
“You will be on your best behavior. Or we’ll come straight home.”
“And you’ll punish me?”
“I’ll read you a book and put you to bed. In a chastity belt.” It’s a good threat, and he knows it. He’s smirking as he makes the final knots in the harness.
I love this sort of rope work, the feeling of being held snug. I love that he took the time to learn how to do it. I can’t get out of it on my own, but he seems to know just where to tug to have it all unravel.
I’m wet by the time he stands and tests the knots. I stare up at him, desperate. He runs his thumb over my lower lip, studying me like he wants to kiss me. He won’t. He respects the rules.
Sometimes, I wish he’d break them. Give in to desire.
Give in to me.
But he doesn’t. That’s not what we have. We’re locked together but still enemies. Ours is a careful game, based on the threat of mutual assured destruction. I need to get close enough to poison him without him finding out.
That’s all.
He dresses me in a loose white skirt and top that’s almost modest, until I check the mirror and realize the fabric is so light, the hot pink rope he’s bound me in shows through.
Once we’re parked outside the club, he adds the final touches. First is a sleek, hot pink mask that does little more than frame my eyes. He dons his own mask—the skull bandana he was wearing the first time I saw him.
The sight of it makes me quiver. He’s dressed the same, too, in jeans and a black shirt.
The last thing he does is fasten a white ribbon around my neck. I hold still. It feels important. He gazes at it like it means something.
I go to touch it, and he catches my wrist. “Behave.” He holds up a pink ball gag and then pockets it. I get the warning; he’ll gag me if I’m disobedient.
I’m too distracted to sass back. He’s parked his Jeep a block away, but I can see the long line of people waiting to get into the club from here.
He guides me down the sidewalk with his hand clamped on the back of my neck, and I’m glad of it.
We pass a few burly men in skull masks, and he nods to them in greeting.
They nod back. I can feel their eyes on me, studying the ribbon around my throat, and I’m even more grateful for Kaiser’s claiming touch.
I’m supposed to be a badass, but I’ve never been to a club before, and it’s all a little overwhelming.
Wearing the outfit he dressed me in—the see-through fabric, the way air drafts up my skirt, reminding me that I’m not wearing underwear—makes me feel small. Submissive.
But I like it.
We bypass the people waiting in line behind a velvet rope and go inside.
I stop in my tracks, staring at the sights.
Outside, people were in long coats, even though it’s still summer and pretty humid.
Inside, right in the lobby, they’ve shed the shielding garments and strut around, showing off outfits even more revealing than mine.
There are bustiers and babydoll nightgowns, sequin lingerie and stilettos.
The club attendants are in neon latex catsuits.
A domme walks by, leading three submissives, wearing cock cages and nothing else, on a leash.
I’ve never seen so many dicks in my life.
Or nipples. Or butt plugs! A cute submissive in a baby doll dress that barely covers her privates walks by and gives me a smile.
When she turns away, I see the sparkly pink jewel winking between her ass cheeks, and my first thought is that it would match my harness.
YOLO!
I would stay stalled out in the door for a long time, but Kaiser propels me forward. “Eyes on me, little bride. Or do I need to blindfold you?”
I stare up at him, letting him maneuver me around. I want to look around, but obeying him this way makes me hot.
We enter a bar area where he orders a drink. He sets me on a stool and lets me taste the liquor, which burns my tongue. He’s standing close, blocking my view of the room. I plead with him with my gaze, and he relents with a smirk.
“You can look around now.”
I do, and stifle a gasp. The room is full of people in creepy devil masks. Mostly men, though I do spot a petite woman with beautiful full sleeve tattoos on her arms. She’s in a wheelchair, holding a stein of frothy beer. On her finger is a skull ring with dark red jewels in the eye sockets.
Across the room, there’s a big man with a willowy woman sitting on his lap. He has a skull ring with blue jewels in the eye sockets, and she has a silver collar with a matching blue jewel around her neck.
Kaiser sees who I’m staring at. “An elita,” he tells me. His hand is on my thigh, stroking under my skirt. I’m already aching to come, and his touch makes it unbearable.
I look around for someone else in a white ribbon, but I don’t see one.
I do see two more women and one man in silver collars.
And there’s a trio of submissives with black ribbons around their neck.
Two are masc-presenting and one is more femme.
They’re with a bare-chested man who’s lounging on a couch by the door.
One of them holds his drink until he’s ready for it. The other two are cuddled close to him, staring up at him in adoration.
“That’s Atticus,” Kaiser tells me and raises his drink in a salute.
At some unseen signal, the room begins to clear out.
Kaiser offers me more liquor, and I shake my head with a grimace. His drink was yucky. He tosses it back and strokes my hair back from my face.
“Things are about to start. Do you need to go to the bathroom?”
I nod. He leads me to the bathrooms and leans down to ask, “Do you need me to undo the harness?”
I hesitate. I like how it’s chafing me. “I’ll figure it out.”
“No getting yourself off,” he warns. The fires in my belly burn hotter.
“Hurry back.” Kaiser folds his arms across his chest, looking like a bouncer blocking the door.
I’m washing my hands at the sink when I hear someone calling my name.
“Pssst, Bella.” I turn to see a woman in an angel costume beckoning me into the handicap stall. After a second, I realize it’s Honey in elaborate gold makeup.
“Hey,” I say. “You guys made it.”
“Shhh.” She pulls me into the stall. A figure in a cheesy red devil outfit is next to her. When I look closely, it’s Raine.
“I got an invitation,” Honey says, “but Raine’s not supposed to be here.”
Raine shrugs. “I ran away.”
“YOLO,” I grin. “I'd better get back out there. Kaiser’s waiting for me.”
“You’re wearing a white ribbon,” Honey observes.
“Yeah, Kaiser put it on me. Do you know what the colors mean?”
“Black means you’re an initiate. A metal collar means you’re claimed. White means you’re innocent, but he’s marking you as off limits. It warns everyone else off.”
I touch the white ribbon around my throat. It’s not black, but it’s a start. “He says he wants to claim me.”
“Congratulations,” Honey whispers. “Unless—”
“No, it’s good,” I say and accept their murmured congratulations. Outside the door, someone turns the music up, and the walls start pulsing with the heavy bass.
“Showtime. We’ll see you out there,” Honey says.
Before I exit the stall, I turn back. “Want to make things really interesting?” I pull out a small pink bottle that I hid in my ponytail. It looks like cherry lip gloss but that’s a disguise. “Take a drop or two of this. Not more than that—it’s strong.”
Honey hesitates. “Is that molly?”
“It’s not unlike molly.” I hold it out to Raine, who has a devilish gleam in her eyes. “Do it for the plot.”
She takes it. “Yo-fucking-Lo.”