31. Serenity
Chapter thirty-one
Serenity
" I have a favor to ask you," Declan says as he holds my elbow and tugs me into one of the hallways of The Envelope.
I don't know if he knows, but I'm beginning to suspect he knows I would do anything for him.
"Of course." I don't even have to ask what it is. I know I'll do anything for this man.
"I forgot I'm hosting a shibari demonstration tonight."
Oh! I remember researching about this once I got my computer. It's a practice that was originally a Japanese form of torture, of restraining a prisoner so tightly they couldn't move.
It's easy to see how it would translate into bondage.
"It doesn't feel right to rig someone else..." he says in an uncharacteristically self-conscious way.
Ah. It makes sense. We still haven't communicated about boundaries and expectations, but I've come to learn that actions speak louder than words with Declan, and what I know about his actions is telling. He fired his naked housemaid, has rejected every advance a woman in The Envelope makes, and takes me home every night. I don't believe he's been with anyone else since I moved in.
And with how we're exploring submission and sex together, I think we're exclusive.
Rigging and domming someone else doesn't feel right to him.
"Can I take a break and do it for you?"
In an instant, his shoulders sag in relief. A moment of mutual understanding passes between us, and I can see how relieved he is that he didn't have to spell it out for me.
I know he's fighting whatever is growing between us, and talking about it would make us have to face it. So instead, we both pretend everything is fine and go about our days.
The uncertainty of it all still makes my mind spin on a loop, but it's not a doom spiral. More like a friendly merry-go-round of possibilities with him.
"I'll make sure it's a simple one. And you can wear what you're wearing."
I nod, and he leads me to the changing room behind the stage, with a large, warm hand on my lower back.
The touch is strangely intimate for the club. Normally, we keep things distant and professional here, opting to keep anything sexual in the safety and privacy of our own home.
I let him usher me through the curtain and onto the stage. The lights blind me for a moment and are hot against my face. To our right I see a table with a long, white cloth with several bundles of thin red rope.
As my eyes adjust to the light, I plaster on a tight, fake smile to cover my nerves. Sitting in my section is Volkov, and his eyes look like they want to burn Declan alive.
Did Declan do this on purpose? Am I caught in some sort of rich guy pissing match? Is he staking a claim on me in front of Volkov? Does he see the same look of anger that I do?
No. He said in the hallway he didn't want to dom someone else. And honestly, if I had seen him rig up and dom someone else it would have made me sick to my stomach. I know he's technically not mine, but it feels like he is. His attention, his care, his protectiveness feels very personal, and I don't want to share that with anyone else.
He's speaking, but I'm not listening. He's introducing me and the history of shibari.
My smile drops a little when he comes to stand in front of me.
"Color?"
I smile up at him. "Green, sir."
He hasn't done anything to make me uncomfortable, I'm just nervous standing on a stage in front of so many people. Before Declan found me, I liked hiding in the background, but now...now I don't mind people looking at me. Especially knowing how Declan looks at me.
He asks me to hold the beginning cross of ropes on my chest between my breasts and I obey.
He walks circles around me, adjusting the ropes around my chest, shoulders, and upper arms, talking and explaining the entire time. He's not one for an audience, but he's comfortable on stage. He knows what he's doing, and it shows.
When the sum of his knots and crisscrosses ties my forearms against each other across my lower back, he checks in with me.
"Color?"
"Green," I almost moan. Being restrained like this is doing something to me I can't explain. The audience no longer matters. It's just him and I up on stage. And with every restraint, every choice he's taken away from me, a warm blanket of comfort surrounds me.
"Fuck," he whispers under his breath. "You're liking this aren't you?"
I look up at him in a daze. Of course I do. Can't he tell? He feels so far away. I feel like I'm underwater. My brain doesn't hurt for the first time in maybe ever. I didn't even realize there's always a low buzz of tension in my brain until now. Until it's gone.
Is this how the rest of the world feels? This relaxed? This comfortable?
I'm barely aware of him when he asks me to kneel.
He takes another rope and ties my ankles, knees and thighs together.
"Color?"
"Green, sir." My voice is a breathy whisper that doesn't sound like my own.
He gently bends me backwards in an awkward backbend before tying my bound arms and ankles together. I am completely immobile. I couldn't move or wiggle out of this position if I tried. The rope is taught, not biting, but there is absolutely no wiggle-room.
Declan's rushing through his explanation now. Words like submission, angles, control tickle at my consciousness while his hand grabs the ropes in different locations and tugs.
I've dropped into a dream-like state of pure relaxation.
He makes quick work of untying me sometime after, and I'm vaguely aware of being carried. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in the crook of his neck.
His suit collar is rough on my cheek, but I don't care. I love the way he smells. So rich and earthy. So alive. So mine.
I wonder what kind of cologne he wears.
I'm gently placed on a soft surface, so I curl up in a ball and bury my face in it.
"Ser?" His gentle voice asks. A hand pets my hair, and I let out a sound of contentment.
"Ser, baby? I need you to drink this."
I open my mouth and stick out my tongue. A gentle chuckle comes from somewhere next to me, before strong hands help me sit up and a straw is placed on my tongue.
I wrap my lips around it and drink. The water is cool, and doesn't taste bad, and is completely refreshing on a soul-level.
"Dec?" I whisper, leaning into where I think he is. The water disappears as two strong arms wrap around me. I pull him closer, wanting his scent everywhere.
"Baby, you dropped into subspace." Another pet to my hair.
"Subspace," I repeat. "I like it here. Can I live here?"
I'm awash with a child-like euphoria that feels so amazing, I don't want it ever to end.
He chuckles again, and it's a sound I've never heard before. I like it. It's a good sound. He should make it more often.
"You really are perfect, aren't you?" The warmth in his voice is not something I'm used to. Warmth in his actions, sure, but the tone he's speaking with right now is something else.
He lays me down before bringing a blanket to cover me. I'm about to take a nap when he kisses my forehead, cheeks, neck, and chin. There's a rustle of clothing as he takes off his suit coat, but then there's a gentle tap on the door.
Declan answers it and there's a low, hushed, exchange of voices.
I think it's Harrison.
"Is she okay?"
"Yes."
"What is this?"
"She dropped into subspace. I'm taking care of her."
"You rigged an employee."
"I didn't want anyone else."
"And you still don't have a contract with her."
"Leave it alone."
I don't hear the rest of the argument as I fall asleep.
And what an amazing sleep it is.