33. A Baptism in Pleasure
Chapter thirty-three
A Baptism in Pleasure
Kenji
Minutes later, leather closed over my wrists.
The first cuff buckled with a patience that stroked along my veins, tightening until my pulse had nowhere to go but into her grip. My chest expanded too slowly, lungs greedy for more air than I could pull. Every breath tasted of her—ripe plum and deep amber.
Surrender.
The second cuff followed, snug and absolute, sealing me and triggering my breath to stumble.
What will happen?
My fingers twitched in reflex, wanting to reach for her, but the strap held firm. The tongue of the leather slid through, locking in place with a muted snap that landed low in my gut.
Too final to fight.
Too right to want to.
Whatever this was going to be. . .it was already winding me too tight. Heat coiled low, heavy and urgent.
My cock strained against the water’s slow drag and the pounding pressure of my own pulse. The ache at the tip of my cock was sharp and swollen, every throb a warning I was too close.
I imagined the moment I would break—how it would tear through me in hot, merciless surges from my cock.
Long white streams spilling into the water.
Unfurling slow, milky ribbons.
Curling around my thighs before drifting free, weightless.
Rising and falling with the lazy sway of the current.
The water would take them further away, stretching each thread thinner, making them pale and luminous.
Just the thought made my balls tighten harder into a deep, aching knot and triggered my whole body to tremble on the edge of surrender.
But, my Tiger wasn’t done with me yet.
Next, she began to secure my ankles.
She disappeared into the water.
Then, heat kissed my calves first, next her hands—warmer still—closed around me. Her palms glided slow, deliberate, as if mapping where I was most vulnerable.
My muscular thighs involuntarily twitched.
She guided my feet toward the gold straps sunk deep in the tub, and when her fingers skimmed the inside of my ankle, something sharp and molten lit in my stomach.
Fuck, Tora. . .You’re my Queen, but you’re also. . .my fucking undoing.
My heels sank into their cradles. The contrast made every nerve spike, then surrender. Ripples curled up my calves, tasting me as they climbed. Their caresses wove with the pulse that had started pounding between my legs.
When the last hook kissed the ring at my ankle, everything shifted.
The water let me go.
Gravity took me instead—pulling me down, centering me in the tub, spine settling into the liquid cradle my Tiger had built. My shoulders eased back without permission. Any fight in my muscles bled away.
My ears sank into the water. The sound in the room thinned and then muffled.
My chin hovered half-submerged. My breath brushed the surface in trembling circles. Each exhale made the water shiver.
Above me, she stood close enough that her shadow slid over my chest, but I could not fully see her.
Mmmm.
Finally. . .my pulse slowed and this. . .heaviness settled behind my eyes that was so. . .pleasant and intoxicating.
God. . .I feel. . .high. . .
My vision tunneled until all I could see was her—her shadow over my chest, the faint curve of her form—everything else blurred into nothing.
More seconds passed in this. . .state and. . .my body dissolved into a strange, anchored stillness, heavy and weightless at once.
I blinked and looked to the side.
Light fractured on the ripples, bending into shards of gold and silver that bled together and reformed.
Yes. . .I’m high. . .
I couldn’t feel the edge of my own body anymore—just the soft drag of the water over skin, the faint shift of current brushing between my thighs.
Every breath moved like it belonged to someone else.
Time stretched. Seconds elongated until each sensation felt like it could last forever. My skin caught everything—the glide of liquid over my ribs, the whisper of her nearness—and held it.
Nyomi was doing something, but I didn’t know what. Her movements above me seemed distant and softened by some invisible wall.
Heat from her hands and the water bled together until I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. The cool bite of the restraints had vanished, melting into that same enveloping warmth.
I floated there, suspended in her world, in her will. And I didn’t want to come back.
I still couldn’t see her expression.
But, I didn’t need to.
Every nerve I owned already knew who I belonged to, knew that whatever she wanted, she could take.
And I would give her all of me.
Willingly.
Completely.
She already had my cock and heart, but now she could have my soul.
Strip it clean from me.
Cradle it in her hands while my name still burned on it.
May she use it as a bargaining chip in heaven and always remember me as I rot in hell thinking of her love and smiling through the painful flames.
I’m fucking. . .delirious right now. . .
More odd thoughts came to me.
What would my men say if they saw the Dragon now? Would they even recognize me like this—half-submerged, wrists bound, eyes heavy with something other than rage? Would they understand, as I was beginning to, that the beast inside me needed this?
Sometimes the creature within craved to be chained.
Anchored.
Yearned to be dominated, stripped bare, and held in place until the noise in my skull quieted. Until the fire that ate at my insides burned low enough to see clearly again.
Because only here, under her control, could I stop pacing the battlefield in my head.
Only here could I breathe without thinking of blood.
Exist without ordering death.
However. . .I knew that if some of my men saw this. . .they would fear that Nyomi might have absolute control over the Dragon.
And they would be right.
I just hoped she never fully understood that very fact.
But today. . .in this water. . .I knew. . .
Trust like this was rarer than loyalty in my world. Men swore oaths, but oaths could be broken. Gangs pledged allegiance, but they scattered when the wind turned red from blood.
Trust—real trust—was different.
Currently, I was surrendering my body to her hands and trusting that she would not let me drown.
She would never.
Even bound, even with my chin a breath from the surface, I felt the tether of her watching me. She was my anchor and my air. My pulse beat steady not because I was calm, but because she was near.
Our bond. . .it’s becoming stronger. . .already it’s sharper than any katana.
If she asked me to die for her, I would place my head in her hands to cut it off.
If she asked me to set the world on fire for her, I would burn my own body for kindling.
No other woman could have me now. My heart, mind, cock, and soul were all locked in her hands, and the key shattered to dust.
High as a fucking kite even though I had not taken any substances, I whispered to the rippling water, “Nyomi. . .I love you. . .”
Through the shimmer of the water and the blur of my vision, movement shifted above me. Then she was there—my Tiger—stepping into my narrowed world like she’d been painted into it.
I blinked.
There you go, Tora.
Her face came into focus first. God, she was beautiful. Too beautiful for the state I was in. I felt the corners of my mouth lift before I even realized I was smiling—slow, stupid, worshipful.
She chuckled, and it came out muffled with my ears in the water.
Yeah. . .I must look insane to her.
Her hand came to the back of my head. Her fingers were gentle. Slowly, she lifted my head, coaxing me upward until the water slipped from my ears and her voice could reach me again. “How do you feel?”
“Right now. . .I would fail every drug test in this world.”
She chuckled, low and knowing. “You feel high?”
“Feel high? No, Tora. I am high. The very definition of it.”
“And. . .do you remember the safe word?”
“I will not say it. I like this feeling.”
She smiled. “But do you remember?”
“Yes. Ume.”
“Good, little Dragon. We are going to play now. Do you remember our rules? If you need to breathe or feel the panic rise—”
“I remember, Tora. Stop being safe. Let’s do this.”
“Kenji, I don’t want to—”
“We will be fine.”
“Are you scared?”
“No.” I let the word carry the wildness firing through my nerves. “I’m intrigued. And thrilled. And fucking. . .high and horny and. . .currently thinking about how to give you my soul.”
She tilted her head. “You should keep your soul, Kenji. It’s important.”
“I don’t want to keep it. I want to give it to you. You already have my heart and my cock. Might as well take the rest.”
“Wow. I’m thankful. I had no idea.” Her mouth curved like she was holding back a laugh. “So then. . .should I give you my heart?”
“Yes.”
“Mmm. . .problem is, I already gave it to this guy. I guess I’ll have to call him up.”
I stilled. “I would kill him.”
Her eyebrows lifted, the corners of her mouth twitching. “You would kill him?”
“Not quickly.” I lifted my head up, letting my voice drop into the dark places I knew she felt in her bones. “I would peel him apart slowly—vein by vein, nerve by nerve—starting with the ones that made him scream without losing consciousness.”
She widened her eyes.
“I would split the skin from his fingers like fruit, take the nails one by one, listening for the catch in his breath. I would saw through each tendon and muscle until every heartbeat was a pulse of agony and every exhale a plea he choked back. And when his eyes went glassy, and he finally begged for death, I would lean in so close he could feel my breath on his ear. . .and tell him exactly why I was torturing him. I would whisper your name over and over as I stabbed him.”
Her mouth was wide open. “So. . .I see that certain jokes or role play might be too much for you.”
“It may.”
She cleared her throat. “O-kay. Back to this. . .”
I smiled. “What are you going to do to me, Tora?”
Her gaze warmed. “You told me once you enjoyed breath control with ropes. It was in Spain. Right?”
“Very good memory.”