Chapter 8
Eight
Nick
I never thought I’d be able to tell Mya how close I came to slipping.
Or that, in the end, she was the reason I didn’t.
But with her legs draped across my lap like she belonged there, I was glad that Lilly had been the one to pull me back, to remind me why I quit.
And more importantly, Mya was real. She scratched gently behind Bear’s ears, and he rested his head on her thigh like they’d known each other forever.
“You’re quiet,” she said softly.
I shrugged. “Just thinking.”
“About what?”
I paused, feeling a flicker of worry she might feel hurt or jealous. “About the club,” I said softly.
She looked up, curious. “Yeah?”
“I’ve been going there for a while,” I admitted, voice low. “Maybe longer than I should have. At first, it was just a way to feel something real. Then it became a way to shut everything out.”
She nodded gently. “And that helped?”
“It gave me a sense of control,” I said. “Something I never had before. I was always reacting, always chasing highs or burying lows. But there… I was in charge. I could be the storm instead of getting swept away by it.”
“And the… hard dom part?” She bit her lip and asked quietly.
“It’s not about hurting anyone. It’s about letting out the part of me that used to hurt me. In a place with rules. With consent. Where the sharp edges aren’t shameful. I never knew any of their names, never saw their faces. They didn’t mean anything to me, but I have to be honest about my past.”
She looked down at Bear. “So why me?”
“What do you mean?”
“You could’ve had anyone. Why give me that side of you?”
I leaned forward, brushing my fingers down her arm. “Because you didn’t ask for the easy version of me. You never wanted the filtered stuff. You look at me like you see it all. The wreckage and the ruin… and you still come closer.”
She swallowed, hard. “That night… after the club… it wasn’t just sex, was it?”
“No,” I said quietly. “It was the first time it felt like mine. Not a substitute for the bottle. Not a way to forget. But something real.”
“They said only people with a key can use the private rooms.” She noted.
“Yes, I have one. I can… give it back? I’m not sure what the hell any of this means, or what we are. But I could understand you not wanting me to have access to that.”
She looked at me like she was thinking of saying yes, but then she jumped up, a small smile on her lips.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“You want to see what it’s like with someone you know?”
I didn’t have to ask if she was sure. Mya never said anything she didn’t mean. She was so unfiltered, so sure about everything, because everything that came out of her mouth was a thought she had already overthought about.
We got on the bike, her arms wrapped around me. She was much more comfortable this time, her body perfectly molding with mine. By the time we parked outside the club, the moon was high and the world was quiet. Mya didn’t say a word when I opened the door for her.
But she did look up at me and whisper, “Let’s see what it feels like when it’s ours.”
I instantly felt calm. I wasn’t here looking for someone to ruin.
I was here showing Mya just how in control I want to be.
Mya walked a step ahead of me, but her hand never left mine.
No friends begging her to be here, to throw herself outside her comfort zone.
She chose to be here with me. And the way she was walking so carefree for once showed that.
We stopped at the bar. She leaned in and whispered something to the bartender I couldn’t hear. Probably water or one of the club’s non-alcoholic cocktails. She didn’t drink much, and that wasn’t lost on me. It never was.
When she turned back to me, I saw it. Curiosity, heat, trust. A burning need inside her.
“Want to sit?” I asked.
“Yes,” she nodded.
We took a booth in the far corner, semi-private but not hidden. I slid in first, then pulled her close. Her leg brushed mine, and I could smell her perfume, something that has lingered since the night we met.
“This place,” I said, “it’s like a pause button.”
“So, it’s more than just the physical?”
“Much more.” I squeezed her hand. “It’s not about hurting anyone. It’s about not hurting myself. I don’t feel powerless when I’m here.”
“I know. You proved that the first night.”
“Yes, but we also should have had a more in-depth talk.”
“We were supposed to be a one-night stand. I don’t think that was needed.”
“It is, though.” He pressed. You need to know that you set the rules. You call the shots. That’s what makes it work. It’s about SSC and RACK.”
“What are those?” She cocked her head.
“SSC means Safe, Sane, and Consensual. Means that whatever kink we are exploring is safe. For example, I know your limits and safeword. I know how to use any toys, tools, or other things. And that everything between us is consensual.”
“And RACK?”
“That means Risk-Aware Consensual Kink. That both parties acknowledge and accept the risks that can happen during a scene and consent to them. Of course I would always be safe and careful with you, but in kinks like blood play, there is a risk.”
“Blood play? You do that?”
“If both parties consent, yes. Any BDSM dynamic is about consent. Power exchange isn’t about me having all the power. It’s about the power I am given. It’s earned, not taken from you. It’s respect.”
Her lips parted, then closed again like she was holding back too many questions. Finally, she whispered, “I was in a power exchange relationship before.”
“But you didn’t know these things?” I questioned. Any good Dom should have gone over these things with her.
“I think he said he was a Dom just to say it… the whole thing was bad.”
“Do you trust me to show you how it’s supposed to go?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
“Hard limits?”
“No gagging, but other than that, I think I’m okay.”
I nodded. “Good. Just say the word if anything shifts. You don’t have to explain. I always take care of you.”
“I like control,” I continued. “I like inflicting pain, but only the kind that heals something. When I spank a sub or mark them, it’s not about punishment. It’s about trust. About letting me take them apart safely so I can put them back together.”
She looked up at me, eyes steady. “I know. That’s why I trust you with it.”
“Would you like to go to a private room?”
“Please,” she whispered as she rubbed her thighs together.
I grabbed her hand and unlocked the door to the room I always liked to use. It was dim and smelled faintly of leather and something smoky. There were cuffs bolted to the walls, silk ropes neatly coiled in a drawer, and other items we wouldn’t need tonight.
I turned the lock, then slowly turned toward Mya. “Color system?” I asked.
“Green, yellow, red.”
“Safeword? Still ‘Shadow’?”
“Yes.”
I nodded and held her chin so she looked up at me. “One last chance. You sure you want this?”
“I’m sure.” She didn’t hesitate.
“Then strip, Sunshine.” My voice dropped.
She didn’t even think about it. Her hands trembled slightly, but her eyes stayed locked on mine as she peeled her shirt over her head, then unhooked her bra and threw it to the ground.
Each piece of clothing hit the floor like it meant something, like she was shedding more than clothes.
When her jeans followed, I could see her chest rise and fall faster, but she didn’t look away.
“You’re doing so good,” I murmured, stepping forward. My fingers grazed her jaw. “Now get on your knees.”
She lowered herself slowly, never breaking eye contact. “You call me Master here,” I told her, voice low. “Only here. Only if you want to.”
“I want to,” she said quietly. “Yes… Master.”
Something primal moved under my skin at the sound of it. Not because I wanted to control her, but because she trusted me enough to give me that part of herself.
I circled her slowly. The room was quiet except for the faint bass of music bleeding in from the main floor and the steady rhythm of her breathing.
Her back straightened when I stopped behind her. She knew I was watching every breath, every twitch of her fingers against her thighs.
“You remember what I told you?” I asked, moving in closer, my hand ghosting over her shoulder.
“That you’d take care of me.”
“And that you could stop this at any time?”
“Yes, Master.”
I leaned down and murmured in her ear, “Then you’re mine. And not just for one night. Over and over again.”
She shivered, but I knew she was turned on and desperate for whatever I was going to do to her.
I helped her up and guided her to the padded cuffs hanging up.
I didn’t rush her. That wasn’t what this was about.
My fingers skimmed her spine, then her hips.
The lightest touch, just enough for her to want more.
“This is going to be intense,” I told her as I picked up the leather cuffs. “You trust me?”
She nodded.
“I need to hear it.”
“I trust you.”
I buckled the restraints gently around her wrists, then fastened them to the hooks. She was still upright, able to shift and speak freely. It was never about trapping her. It was about holding her safe while I took care of her.
I moved in front of her, cupped her face, and kissed her.
Rough, possessive, and for once, I felt more than just needing alcohol to breathe.
I felt like she was the reason I was here tonight, and not me running away from the bottle.
The kind of kiss that said, You’re right, one night was never going to be enough.
The kind of kiss that undid me and ruined me in every way I’d ever wanted.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whispered. It was true, too.
I wasn’t just saying it because she was here naked or because she was turning out to be a good sub.
Mya was like a breath of fresh air. She was the one who may word-vomit but was honest and genuine in everything she did.
She was… kind. Even when I didn’t deserve it.
“Thank you, Master.”