Chapter 15 Kieran
Kieran
“And by strange alchemy of brain, His pleasures always turn’d to pain…” Edgar Allan Poe
At first, I thought maybe I shouldn’t have brought her here.
The thought kept looping through my head as she stepped into room seven. She was quiet, her eyes darting across the space like she was not sure if she should admire it—or brace herself. I watch her fingers brush the nightstand: the candle, the pinwheel, the feather. The frost-beaded glass of ice.
Her breath catches when she sees the cuffs hanging from the ceiling, and mine does too. Probably for a whole different reason than her. I’ve pictured her in those cuffs begging for me so many times since we had them installed, it’s borderline unhealthy.
I thought maybe bringing her here and showing her the room I essentially rebuilt with her in mind, she would be afraid, but she isn’t. Or maybe that she was a replacement memory for Alexis and LeAnne. But then she said those words, and all the blood rushed to my dick.
She turns to me, gaze steady. “Show me, Professor.” Her voice is firm, curious, but it wasn’t a question. It was a demand. “What are they for? The feather, the pinwheel...the rest of it?”
My pulse spikes. “Deirdre…”
“I want to learn,” she says, stepping closer. “From you.”
And just like that, my hesitation dies in her eyes.
I nod once, jaw tight, chest aching with everything I’ve been holding back. “Only if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure. I trust you.”
That trust levels me.
I lead her gently to the edge of the bed, keeping my movements slow. “Take off your boots.”
She does, wordlessly, watching me.
I nod. “Good girl.” I step closer. “Now. Let me undress you.”
She lifts her arms without question, oversized sweater bunching up as I pull it over her head. She’s wearing one of those delicate bralettes underneath—black lace and barely there. My fingers skim along her ribs as I slide the sweater off her arms and toss it to the side.
Her skin is warm beneath my hands, soft and alive. I kneel in front of her and reach for her skirt next, unzipping it at her hip, letting the fabric pool to the floor. She steps out of it, slow and sure.
There’s a moment—just a breath—where I have to stop and look at her. Really look at her.
Her body bears faint reminders of what she’s survived. But she’s standing in front of me, bare, strong, still wanting. And, God, that’s more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen.
“You’re perfect,” I murmur.
She blushes but doesn’t look away.
Standing up, I wrap my arms around her, finding the clasp of her bra.
With a flick of my wrist, it comes undone and drops to the floor.
Her breath hitches as my hands slide down her sides, my fingers curling in the sides of her lace panties and gliding them gingerly down her legs. She steps out of them one by one.
My eyes rake over her once more, and I notice the tiny pebbles erupting on her skin, her nipples taut and begging for my mouth.
Fighting the urge to take her right there, I slide my hand in hers and walk her to the bed. “Lie down for me.”
She climbs up, settling against the center of the mattress.
I grab one of the satin ties from the ceiling and run it through my fingers before meeting her eyes again.
“I’m going to tie your wrists and ankles.
Nothing tight. Just enough to hold you still while I show you what this room is meant for now. ”
She nods. “Okay.”
“The satin is more gentle than rope,” I tell her. “And if anything feels too tight, or wrong, or overwhelming, you tell me and I stop. Immediately.”
She nods, lips parting. “Okay.”
I cup her face. “I need you to say it, D.”
“I’ll tell you if I want to stop,” she says.
With her consent, I begin. I tie her wrists first—loose, padded, the silk hugging her skin. She flexes her fingers instinctively, testing. Then her ankles spread and anchored to the corners. She’s open for me, exposed, but calm.
Excited.
And fuck if it doesn’t undo me.
“Um, Professor…why am I the only one naked?” She smirks, looking up at me with her arms bound above her head. It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.
“I’ll give you something to look at for now, but don’t get used to it.”
She looks confused as I kick off my shoes before I peel off my shirt and slacks, throwing them haphazardly on the chair in the corner of the room. Then I slowly tug on the waistband of my briefs and step out of them.
“You know, it’s a lot more fun when you undress me.” I chuckle, “I’m not exactly good at giving a striptease.”
She giggles lightly, looking upward to her wrists, “Well, if you haven’t noticed, I’m a little tied up.”
Leaning on the bed, the mattress dipping under my weight, I press a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, I didn’t think that one through.” As I am leaning over her body, the tip of my cock grazes her stomach, and I instantly ache to be buried inside of her.
Not fucking yet.
Her breath becomes faster as she feels the warmth of my cock graze her skin.
“Kieran.”
It takes all of my control not to position myself between her legs and drive myself inside of her, but I make myself focus on my breathing as I grab the satin blindfold.
“Now…I am going to cover your eyes.”
Her eyes widen in realization.
“May I?” I ask.
Her breath catches, but she nods. “Yes.”
I tie the black fabric over her eyes, watching the way her body reacts as her sight disappears. Her lips part. Her chest rises. Everything has become a sensation now.
She can’t see me—but she knows I’m near.
“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” I murmur in her ear. “Open. Helpless. Waiting.”
I trail my fingertips down her arms to the curve of her hips. “I’m going to show you what it means to give in.”
She nods again, lips trembling. “Please.”
I walk around the bed, keeping my eyes on her as I dip the pinwheel into the ice water. Just enough to cool the metal. Her breath halts when she hears it.
“This’ll sting a little,” I warn, dragging the wheel lightly over the inside of her thigh. “But it’s more of a tease than a bite.”
She shivers. “It’s cold.”
A mischievous laugh escapes me. “That’s the point.”
I roll it leisurely over the curve of her hip, across her stomach, then up to her sternum. She squirms slightly, gasping, her skin pebbling with goosebumps.
“Still good?” I ask, my voice low.
She nods furiously. “More.”
The spiked wheel traces along the soft underside of her breast, just above her nipple.
She whimpers, already wrecked from the teasing.
I circle it around her nipple, pressing it down more firmly.
“Yes!” She arches her back as the pinwheel bites against her skin.
With my free hand, I grab the base of my cock to stave off my impending orgasm. I can feel the throbbing in my hand, and I languidly pump my cock to the vision of Deirdre writhing before me on the bed.
Her breaths are ragged now. “Tell me what you’re doing.”
Whispering into her ear, “I’m stroking my cock to your beautiful body and the sweet sounds that are coming from those lips. I am thinking about the moment I finally sink into your warm, tight pussy.”
She lets out a small whimper and tugs at the satin ties binding her wrists.
“Patience, Miss Ravencroft. The wait is worth it,” I say, almost to convince myself, as I painfully release my cock to grab the next item.
She’s already wet. I can see it. Smell it.
But I continue to take my time.
Then comes the feather. Warm. Gentle. I run it along the same trail, the contrast making her squirm.
“Kieran,” she whispers, blindfolded and gasping. “I—”
“You’ll take it,” I whisper, kissing the space between her ribs. “Everything. Every sting. Every edge I want to give you. And you’ll beg me for more.”
Once her skin has calmed down from the sting of the pinwheel, I walk back around to the nightstand to grab the candle.
Tilting it slightly, a slow drip of warm wax lands just above her navel, and she cries out, trembling under it. Her hands grip the ties above her head, muscles taut.
I drip more wax up toward her sternum in between her breasts. She gasps, but her back arches toward the heat. I watch her take it—testing her edge, trusting her limits.
“Kieran!!” She pulls harder against the restraints, attempting to bend her legs.
“Color?”
“Green, please more!”
Smirking to myself, I drip the wax over her nipples, and that’s her undoing.
She screams in pleasure, and it is music to my fucking ears.
Backing away, I admire the artwork on her skin. The red trail the pinwheel left, the flushed warmth of the wax, it is all so beautiful.
Then, setting the candle back on the nightstand, I grab an ice cube from the glass and run it along the same trail as the melted wax, down between her breasts, over her nipple, trailing to the apex of her thighs.
Her moan is wrecked. Broken.
And still, I kneel between her legs, taking in the way her body trembles, how her lips part for air, how her breath stutters behind the blindfold.
“Color?”
“Green,” she chokes out. “God—so fucking green.”
She’s falling apart for me.
And I haven’t even touched her with my hands.
“You did so fucking good for me, sweetheart.” My voice is rough with restraint. “Can I reward you?”
She gasps, nodding, furiously against the sheets. “Yes. Yes, please—Kieran, I need—“
I don’t make her wait anymore.
I bend low and kiss her inner thigh, then lick a slow, torturous line to her core. She writhes. She calls my name. Her body wracks against the bonds as I finally taste her again—desperate and hungry and entirely mine.
I tease her until she’s crying out, hips lifting, her whole body straining toward me.
When she finally comes, it’s like a tide breaking—loud, trembling, unstoppable. I stay with her, guiding her down from it, kissing every inch of skin I can reach as I begin untying her.
She curls into my arms as I remove the blindfold last.
Her lashes flutter open. Her cheeks are flushed. She’s smiling.
Still breathing hard, she whispers, “Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” I lightly chuckle while I press a kiss into her hair, holding her close.
I feel the ache grow in my chest as she hums, satisfied against my skin.
This wasn’t about kink. This wasn’t about power. This was about trust. About healing. About her reclaiming her body, her pleasure, on her own terms.
And I got to be the man she trusted to guide her there.
Because this is the beginning of our story in this room.
No more ghosts.
No more pain.
Just her and me—and everything we choose to build from here.