Chapter 77 #2
Entering the theatre room, I cross to the mirror on the far side. Placing my palm upon the glass wakes the scanner, the machine whirring quietly. The latch clicks open, and I slide the door to the left. Stepping through the mirror’s frame and into the secret, sound-proofed, adjoining room.
Rose has been rendered speechless. Shocked by the near barren dungeon room surrounding her.
Though it’s immaculately clean, it’s cold and dark. Nothing like the warm, sexy play room she probably imagined.
Chains of varying weights hang from a rack, anchor points mounted on the wall, ceiling, and floor. I never needed anything fancy to fulfill my desires. Knowing the pain stinging my palm paled in comparison to what was resonating through my partner was enough to keep my beast satiated.
For times like this though…I have a small collection of things to extinguish the fire burning me up from the inside.
“What’s your safeword?” I growl.
She doesn’t answer, and I realize it’s probably because this room is eerily similar to Richmond’s. Though, unlike him, I do get off on the pain I inflict…and I don’t kill my willing victims.
Her body slides down mine as I remove her from my shoulder.
Gripping her chin, I force her to lock my gaze. She’s scared, but intrigued. Desperately, I cling to that rage, the only familiar thing I’ve felt since meeting her.
“Safeword. Now.”
“Dinosaur,” she meekly replies.
“Last chance to come clean.”
Rose opens her mouth like she’s about to spill it all, then she thinks better of it, snapping her lips shut.
“Have it your way.” My hand shoots out, wrapping around her slender neck. Her fingers coil around my wrist, steadying herself, as I slowly walk her backwards. A grin blooms across her perfect mouth. I know she thinks she wants this, but she may be very, very wrong.
Her back presses up against the cold, black leather of the St. Andrew’s cross, and I smile down at her. “Turn around, flower.”
A breath stutters past her lips when I release her. The unwavering eye contact alone is enough to light me up, awakening my lust-driven side.
Rose stretches up on her tiptoes, planting a gentle kiss to my lips. It’s brief, but enough to have the rage leaking through my fingers like sand. She pulls back, turning on the spot. Raising her arms, she lays her wrists within the binds attached to the solid X-frame.
Bringing my chest flush with her back, I reach over her to secure the leather cuffs. “You’ll use your safeword?”
“Yes,” she breathes, anticipation flowing steadily through her veins as I clasp the final cuff into place. Usually I’d bind the ankles, but this is far enough for her first time.
“You will not cum, do you understand?”
Rose nods her head, a smirk pulling her cheek.
She knows the rules, communication is so fucking important when engaged like this, but she breaks them just to have my hand crack off her ass.
Fuck, I can’t resist her when she’s this close. The way she smells, how her skin feels beneath my touch, the sounds she makes cumming all over my fucking dick. She sucks me in like a helpless creature trapped in her whirlpool.
Sweeping her hair to one side, my lips blaze a path down her neck as she arches into me. Palms skimming over her corset, I fight the urge to unlace it. I need some barrier between us, otherwise I’ll toss everything out the window just to have my mouth on her fucking body.
Prying myself away from her is agony. I’ve spent weeks fantasizing about her like this—tethered and at my mercy. I step back. “Get a good grip, baby, I won’t be nice.”
I watch her strong legs shift, adjusting her stance in the black pump heels with red bottoms. Her fingers curl around the cross’s frame, gripping tight, as she bends ever so slightly at the waist.
Fucking tease.
My palms rub together. “Ready?”
Rose nods, and without warning, I spank her.
Smack.
She fucking moans. It echoes through me so deeply I feel it everywhere. There isn’t an inch of me unaffected by this enchantress.
“Count,” I demand, landing another punishing blow.
“Two,” she pants.
Again.
“Three.”
Crack.
“Four.”
Once more, I land another slap to the same spot. The most beautiful shade of red borders the lighter coloured welt of my handprint.
“Five,” she gasps, rocking back, pulling against the anchors.
My cock leaks a steady drip, begging to be inside that sweet cunt.
The small lapse of time allows the reason for this to resurface, the unfavourable emotions forcing themselves to the forefront of my mind “Tell me, flower. What weren’t you ready for before that you are now?”
“You’re going to have to do better than this to get that out of me.”
I step into her, pressing my cock against her clothed centre. She whimpers, winding her hips. Sinking my fist into her hair, I coil tight, pushing her into a deeper bend.
With my free hand, I pull the end of the ribbon, slowly unlacing the corset. She shakes in my hold, pussy soaking the front of my boxers as she grinds against my dick.
“Why won’t you tell me?” I ask, pulling the ribbon through the last loop. The corset falls to the cement floor, and I kick it aside.
She keeps her lips sealed, earning herself a hard swat against my healing name on her hip.
“Six,” she sighs.
“So, your voice does work.”
“I’m selective with my words.”
“Sure you fucking are,” I growl, backing away from her.
“You’re hot when you’re angry,” she taunts, swaying her hips back and forth.
Those fucking heels are going to be the death of me.
The way she struts with confidence in them has me tagging along like a drooling fool.
Which is unfortunate, since a funeral home was not the best place to be thinking of stealing her away to a darkened corner of the cold room.
“Don’t move,” I instruct.
Crossing the room to where the other toys hang in a wall-mounted glass cabinet, I grab the light-up mask, slipping it on. I hope to unnerve her. Spiking her fear just enough she tumbles into a confession.
Flicking the switch, the pink X’s over my eyes and the stitched smile illuminate. My fingers hover over the crop, debating whether it’s too much for her. They bite hard and can break the skin, though she may like that.
Deciding against it, I slip a flogger off the hook. I make my way back across the room, hitting the light switch on the way. The bulbs dim to the lowest setting, the soft pink light of the mask’s threads are the only thing Rose will be able to see in the dark.
The nine black braided tails of the flogger are lined with little dark green leather leaves. The tips adorned with crimson leather roses, matching the red grip clenched in my hand.
As I approach, the light from my mask flows over Rose’s obedient form. The sight takes me back to the second time I saw her. Lying on the bed, bathed in that soft pink light, nearly glowing like a goddess on satin sheets.
The memory pummels me as I deem myself too fucking unworthy of the woman before me, bent over in the exact position I left her.
I’m surprised she listened for once. I can only assume she wants whatever I decide to bring upon her, which assuages some of my turmoil.
My touch ghosts up the back of her thigh.
Rose stiffens, her gasp morphing into a moan as my fingers skim across her tender flesh, inflamed from my palm.
“Seems you can follow orders.” Fingers grazing over the soaked scrap of fabric covering her core, I try to lure her into my web, “Perhaps you deserve a reward?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
Landing a swift swat to her pussy, I rumble, “Yes, what?”
“Please,” she murmurs. “Yes, please.”
My fingers slip beneath the flimsy material, sinking into her with a groan. “So fucking wet for this, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she breathes, “you make me so fucking needy, Rip.”
“Mmm,” I growl, slowly thrusting my fingers in and out of her. The sinfully addicting taste of her cunt calls to me, a temptation I have no hope abstaining from. “Think you can bait me that easy, flower?”
“Can’t blame me for trying.”
“Look at me.”
Rose’s head lifts, turning my way. Her sharp intake of shock shoots straight to my sack, her pussy gripping my fingers like a vise at the first sight of the mask.
Well, shit.
She’s not scared at all.