Chapter 18 Adair
ADAIR
My eyes are still adjusting to the dim red light of the dungeon as I trail Jack down the hallway, trying to get used to the metal plug vibrating inside of me. In the equally dim changing room, I strip down to a black jockstrap like I did last time. “Turn around,” he orders.
My assumption that he’s checking out the marks on my ass is confirmed when I hear him chuckle. “The stripes my belt left on your ass when we were camping have just about disappeared. I love the idea of marking you up again tonight.”
Nervous anticipation flutters inside me as he buckles the leather cuffs onto my wrists.
When he crouches down to fasten the other set onto my ankles, a sudden thought hits me.
“Hey, I can buckle those myself if you want. It’s just a little hard to get these —” I gesture to my wrists, “on one-handed.”
Jack surprises me. “No, I don’t want you to.” He glances up at me with a crooked grin. “That’s not your job.”
Oh God. There’s no way that should make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. It does anyway.
My eyes get big and my cock snaps to attention when he pulls out a chain leash along with a collar I’ve never seen before. It looks like real leather, padded on the inside.
“Is that new?” I ask. Jack nods. My mouth is dry but my dick is already leaking into the jockstrap as I watch him run his fingers over it.
He doesn’t say anything else before stepping behind me and putting it on. I can hear how heavy the buckle is by the low metallic clunk it makes next to my ear. He buckles it tightly enough that when I swallow, my Adam’s apple pushes against the leather.
Leash in hand, Jack evaluates me. “I like the way you look in this,” he announces. “I might start having you wear it regularly.” My dick jerks at the thought.
When he brings his eyes to mine, whatever he sees in them makes him grin. “You like this?”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “It’s hot.”
“I want you to crawl for me tonight.”
I catch my lower lip between my teeth but I’m not quick enough to stifle the needy whimper I let out as I nod. Jack brings a big hand to the side of my face. He brushes a thumb over my cheekbone, then my lower lip.
“Good boy,” he says quietly before pointing down between his feet. His praise makes my belly flip-flop as I drop to all fours. My palms and knees on the cold tile of the changing room make me viscerally conscious of my humiliation as Jack gives the leash a sharp tug.
He leads me down the hallway towards the easy chairs along the sides of the big room. From my hands and knees, I see mostly a sea of legs. But a feedback loop of shame and arousal burns in my belly whenever people’s eyes drop to me and I catch a glimpse of a curious leer or a lascivious smirk.
I follow Jack to a chair with a view of the big metallic net he chained me to last time. Crawling between his splayed legs, I nuzzle the crotch of his black jeans. He cocks an eyebrow at me and studies me, his expression amused and lustful at the same time. “What’re you doing?” he teases.
“I wish you weren’t wearing these,” I tell him. “I’d bury my nose in your bush and suffocate myself on your sack.”
Jack wraps his hand around my neck and smirks. “Not now, you insatiable cockslut. I just want you naked and sitting at my feet like an obedient little whore.” My dick wakes up at his words and the way he’s looking at me with hooded eyes.
He runs a hand over my hair as I curl up between his legs.
“Yeah, just like that,” he says, his voice husky as I lean my head against his thigh.
He strokes my hair like he’s petting a dog at his feet but otherwise ignores me.
The vibrating plug in my ass combined with his deliberately casual dismissiveness have my cock dripping even before I turn my attention to the scene now unfolding at that chain net.
A shirtless, heavily tattooed goth guy in leather pants flogs a musclebound dude whose hands are cuffed above his head.
He arches his back and cries out as the goth lays into him.
I wasn’t sure I’d be into this part, but being a voyeur is pretty hot.
It makes me wonder what the audience was thinking when I was the one chained there, and Jack was swinging the paddle to make me writhe and sob and scream.
I sneak a glance up at him. His black shirt is tight across his broad shoulders and unbuttoned far enough to show off his furry chest. He brings the hand that’s not petting me to his chin, stroking his beard like he’s deep in thought.
His hair is pulled into a low ponytail and his thick brows are lowered far enough to give him a stern, forbidding expression.
The whole impression is hot and scary in equal amounts.
I see it in people’s faces: They eye me, some subtly and some blatantly as they take in my submissive position, collared and leashed at Jack’s feet. I watch as their gazes travel up, and I can tell when every single one gets to Jack’s dark, intimidating stare, because they avert their eyes.
It makes me feel safe. I know the last thing I need to worry about is anybody being a jerk or a creep to me.
It also makes me feel sort of alone, I realize as I watch the goth release his sub, putting a controlling hand on the bigger man’s nape to lead him towards a cluster of people who greet them noisily.
It’s a weird sensation to have in a space where single guys, couples and a few larger groups are milling around and mingling, trading handshakes and fist bumps and back-slapping hugs.
Jack’s imposing manner has created such an invisible bubble around us that I’m entirely caught by surprise when a slim guy with a sandy-blond crew cut walks up to us and just starts talking.
“Hey there.” He reaches a hand out to Jack.
“Don’t know if I’ve seen you fellas before. Is this your first time here?”
Oh, no. I don’t see this ending well. “I’m Eric. Nice to meet you…” He trails off, waiting for a response, hand still extended. Jack’s narrowed eyes and set jaw make my heart sink as the seconds tick by.
I cringe in the expanding silence between us until I can’t anymore. “Adair and Jack,” I say quietly. I look back down, but not before I catch a glimpse of Jack’s black glare under lowered brows.
“Nice to meet you both.” The genial smile is still on Eric’s face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes anymore.
“I just wanted to say hello because I’m here pretty often.
Hope you’re enjoying yourselves,” he says before fleeing to the other side of the room, which tells me Jack is probably still staring him down.
When I look up and bite back a sigh, Jack turns his glower on me. “Where the hell did the idea to talk to that creep come from?” he snaps.
“He seemed friendly! Why would you think he wasn’t? Wait —” A thought strikes me. “Do you know him?”
“No, I don’t goddamn know him.” Jack gives me a withering stare. “What kind of dumb-bunny question is that?”
Bossy asshole. “I don’t know! I thought maybe there was a history between you, some bad blood —” I blow out a sigh of frustration. “You know — an actual reason why you gave him the cold shoulder and blew him off other than being a jerk!”
Jack’s dark eyes go flinty. “He should know better than to just come straight up to you like that,” he snarls.
“But he wasn’t even talking to me! I just answered because you left him hanging and I felt really, really awkward about it.”
“What do you mean he wasn’t talking to you? Who the hell else would he have been talking to?” he huffs.
The answer is so obvious I wonder if Jack is fucking with me for some unfathomable reason. I blink at him. “Uh, he was talking to you,” I say slowly.
For the first time, I see a flicker of uncertainty beneath the anger. “Well…” Jack trails off and frowns. I take the opening and run with it.
“Look, Eric said he was a regular here, which means he knows the etiquette. He wouldn’t have tried to talk to a sub wearing a collar and just ignore the dom.”
Jack scoffs. “Why would he want to talk to me?”
This is weird. I frown. “Why wouldn’t he?”
Jack’s brows lower into a scowl, but I see a question in them I can tell he’s struggling to hide, and there’s something hesitant in the shrug he gives me.
It hits me all at once: For whatever reason, my husband can’t seem to fathom that anybody would want to talk to him or get to know him. He puts on a glowering, grouchy front, but that expression in his eyes tells me that somewhere buried deep inside of him are hurt feelings.
Looking up at Jack’s face, my heart aches. Fuck me. I either better start thinking about something sexy fast, or brat out until Jack punishes me. Because if I dwell on the fact that he just goes through life assuming he’s unlikeable, I might burst into tears for all the wrong reasons.