He decided to put off thinking about that revelation until pigs flew out of the new guy’s ass on a Tuesday.
She mumbled but she’d turned up the volume of the music at some point so her voice didn’t carry over the haunting tones of the songs she’d chosen. Her voice was too low for him to make out how many versions of asshole she could come up with for him. Or how many times his hand was going to connect with her ass for putting rope as a hard limit.
Meticulously, she wove a chest harness around her torso. Each piece had to be perfect before she moved onto the next wrap. Her movements weren’t hurried or awkward. She was graceful and so fucking sexy he could barely stay in his seat.
The mask covered her face from the top of her nose all the way to beneath her chin. He hated not being able to see her face. He couldn’t read her with it covered.
It’s why he’d insisted on eye contact with her.
Keeping her gaze on the floor wasn’t respectful from her. It was more than a mild fuck you. Letting someone top her was nothing but a joke. She let them think she was with them, when all she was doing was burrowing down inside herself. During the time with anyone she did nothing but let tiny snatches of herself out to play.
She hid everything.
His pulse kicked up, blood throbbing in his cock. He wanted to rearrange it but knew if he touched it at all he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from jacking it to the sight of her.
After finishing the harness around her chest she added a hip harness as well. The lightness of the rope highlighted so perfectly against the black of her panties. Suspension lines were swiftly attached to both harnesses, along with carabineers, and she added both to the ring above her.
With a few quick movements, faster than anything Nick had ever seen, she suspended herself on the stage.
All alone.
Lights from above.
She looked like an angel, flying there on Earth for the mere mortals lucky enough to see her.
Bondage in general turned him on something hardcore. He got off on controlling someone else. He really got off on the notion of someone relying on him for everything in a scene.
Especially when he decided to take away one or more of their senses and then play them hard. It multiplied their ability to focus on what was left. On what he gave them.
The ear plugs with Jenna.
Breath play.
Orgasm Denial. Control with nothing more than his command and her mind.
They were each some form or function of bondage and he prided himself on his control in those situations.
Jenna moved lines, releasing her torso until all her weight rested on her hip harness. She hung upside-down, lifting one of her legs to wrap around her suspension line. The other foot she grabbed behind her head, reminding him of a gymnast.
The control he wore as if it were a badge of honor, the same control he had no problem maintaining around other submissives, evaporated as he watched her self-rig.
His cock pulsed beneath his slacks and he shifted in his chair, releasing another plume of her fragrance.
It went straight to his head and right down to his dick.
“Fuck it.”
He kicked the door shut, released the belt and button on his slacks and pulled out his cock.
He gritted his teeth to keep from moaning like a bitch in heat at the feel of his own fingers circling his flesh.
Heat radiated from him but he knew the office was a cool seventy-two degrees.
It was her.
Jenna.
She heated his blood to boiling with a simple glance and a peek of her tongue when she stuck it out at him for something he’d done.
She grabbed rope from where she’d laid it on the stage and if he wasn’t mistaken she had her eyes closed, doing all of it by feel. By touch and sensation and a pretty fucking incredible muscle memory he hadn’t even mastered while tying someone else.
He’d studied under some amazing mentors before, had gained skill for several years, but he wasn’t as good as her.
Not even close.
It didn’t hurt his pride as much as he expected it to.
She was incredible as she attached a single column tie on her ankle and proceeded to tie her leg in a fat leg tie. A futomomo while suspended, turning slowly in a circle until she’d completed all of the knots and attachments on both sides of her leg.
She created some kind of Y-knot, using both sides of the basket. Then she connected it to the ring, transferring all of the tension to her one leg, releasing the hip harness completely.
He absentmindedly swiped the head of his dick and his thumb came away wet.
His cock wept for her, for her beauty, her strength and for whatever made her hide the amazing talent he watched unfold before him.
As he squeezed down on his shaft and then back up, a tingling sensation started in his balls.
He’d barely jacked himself at all and release already sat waiting for him.
He fisted his cock, working it, using the pre-cum to slide easier through his grasp.
His girl was onstage, suspended by a single rope, hanging from a substance that could give her pain and pleasure, fear or comfort.
He knew he wanted her.
But now he was certain he’d do everything in his power to convince her that thirty days wasn’t nearly enough for them to explore what they could be together.
He caught sight of his collar around her throat, the lights glinting off the lock he added at the last minute.
His arousal kicked into high gear, with the knowledge that she belonged to him now.
Tomorrow would come and he could handle anything that happened because today he owned the most precious thing he’d ever been able to touch.
Heat radiated off him and he moved his legs a bit farther apart. Tension bled off him as his muscles strained toward his climax.
Jenna moved onstage and he saw every detail. One of her hands moved behind her and she tucked her fingers in the rope, constricting her breathing around her chest.
The other hand moved along the lines of jute wrapping her leg, then settled over her mound and then her pussy.
It looked like she moved her panties over, pressing her fingers beneath to her bare flesh.
Cum erupted from the head of his cock as he lost control of his orgasm. He decided when he came. And he came only when he was good and ready.
But the sight of Jenna in rope, pleasuring herself was more than he could ignore.
His cock jerked, shooting cum all over his hand.
Her scent reached his olfactory senses, giving him the illusion that he could scent her across the club and up a couple floors.
Her fingers moved faster and faster until she cried out, jerking in the rope.
A groan slipped free of his chest and he clenched his teeth, trapping any more sounds before they could spill into the room.
Sexiest fucking submissive he’d ever seen.
He’d wanted her before.
Lusted after her.
But now?
His cock jerked again, wanting to stay hard so he could take her on the stage as soon as he fucking could.
He grabbed tissues and cleaned up, throwing the evidence in the trash. He tucked himself back into his slacks and his brain was finally clear enough he could process a few things that he really needed to know.
Tying was vastly different to every rigger. The direction and flow of the rope, was determined normally by the style they favored. Western, more traditional or a combination of the two, were pretty typical. But a lot of the riggers had a flare of innovation since they were continuously growing in their rope journey. He noticed how she tied, watching the nuances of her style. Where she put the rope. It was all in places she could cover up with her corset and black leather pants.
It made sense why the people in the club hadn’t discovered her yet even though they were so close. Even when she should have been able to be completely free, something still bound her.
She hid e
verything, pushing something so integral as rope into the recesses of her mind. That was no longer going to be an option for her, since the cat was now out of the bag. Being a self-rigger was amazing and he’d be damned if she continued hurting herself by hiding it.
And he had every intention of tanning her hide about doing it without a spotter she knew about nearby. He knew some riggers thought they were above the safety shit and he’d beat some sense into her if she was one of those.
Safety shears.
He didn’t see any on her, nor a knife.
He favored his right hand for close-up personal punishment, and his palm tingled. Her backside was going to be on fire once she wasn’t so drunk on rope he could have a decent conversation with her.
He glanced at his watch, noticing the time. He’d walked in around five, giving him a vague notion of how long it took her to get started and really begin to tie. Had to be close to thirty minutes by now.
She couldn’t stay up much longer than another twenty minutes without substantially increasing the probability of nerve damage or worse.
He stood, grabbing the other chair and shoving it back under the desk where it belonged.
He glanced at the monitor one more time, catching another glimpse of Jenna in her rope. He reached for the door knob, ready to go to her, to get her down and take care of her.
Whether she wanted it or not was of no consequence.
Her status with him and at the club itself had changed from the moment she agreed to be his. The collar around her neck proved it in a very real way.
One more look around the space proved it was in the same shape he’d found it in.
Upon opening the door he almost growled.
Striding toward the office was Bryan, the owner of Rugged Security and really—though he didn’t like to think of it this way—his new boss.
“Thought you’d left a while ago.” Bryan said by way of greeting as he stepped inside the room.
Mine, almost slipped out but Nick swallowed the word, feeling it all the way down until it dropped like a brick into the pit of his stomach.
Before Nick could stop himself, he stepped between Bryan and the monitor Jenna was on. Sure he still had a hold of the door handle and leaned against it, full of cocky assuredness that he had nothing to worry about.
But he couldn’t stop himself from doing it.
That in and of itself was a giant fucking red flag.
“Had a few things come up last minute that needed some attention. I have to grab something and then I’ll finally be ready to sack out.”
Bryan crossed his arms over his chest, nodding toward the wall of camera views. “Everything run smoothly tonight? No issues with the new access control system, I take it? I was out most of the night, chasing ghosts in the new firmware update. I think we’re back on track now.”
“The club was fine. All the scenes were good, no one accessed any sections they weren’t authorized to based off the log in the system I pulled earlier, but I’ll review the footage tomorrow, like normal, just to make sure.”
“Good.”
Nick glanced at his watch, not even trying to cover up the fact that he needed to be somewhere. His back twitched, wanting to turn around and check on Jenna but he didn’t want Bryan catching wind of anything being amiss.
His need to protect her went well above and beyond his loyalty to the new guy. He was ready to say adios, but Bryan looked at him.
“So you used to fight MMA.”
Nick nodded once, not that surprised he’d dug around in his past, not that it took much digging. Most of the crew knew what he did before.
“Retired a couple years ago.”
“Why’d you quit?”
“I retired. Same reason most people stop fighting professionally. Wear and tear, age plays a huge factor, having different goals. If you’re head’s not in the game you can get hurt or worse.”
“Jackson wasn’t a fighter.”
“No, he was one of my training partners. And he could fight circles around me after a full workout and several fights. He’s a machine. Just didn’t like the limelight and everybody being in his space all the damn time.”
“How’d you and the Kennedys meet? They said they‘ve known you for years but we haven’t had time to talk about it.”
“We met through a fellow international rigger. Ran into each other a few times, had common interests. Stayed in touch.”
“And then you suggested Jackson. Makes sense.” He nodded, heading over to a filing cabinet. “It’s late. I need to grab a file and then I’m out. For a few hours at least.”
“Me too.” Bryan’s back turned to the monitors, giving him an opportunity to check on Jenna. She’d transitioned to a slightly different position but with the mask on he couldn’t tell if she was in trouble or not.
He shook his head, clearing it so he could focus on Bryan and get out.
He needed to get his head back on straight. He was her Dom. For thirty days, not a lifetime. Assessing her needs was priority number one. First he was going to take her down, care for her, spank her ass red and then fuck her so maybe he could sleep a few hours without downing in lust.
After they both got some rest, he needed to give her what he knew she needed.
A ménage.
Like with rope, he suspected any of her larger-than-life reactions more than highlighted things that were very important to her.
Before he thought too hard about it or second-guessed himself he asked, “You up for a threesome?”
Bryan twisted just enough so he could eye Nick. He did so for almost a full minute, saying nothing. His mouth didn’t move, his eyebrow didn’t twitch. He gave nothing away.
Nick could respect that.
“Why ask me? Why not Jackson?”
Nick stood to his full height and mirrored Bryan’s earlier stance with crossed arms. “He’s with Skye and they’re all into each other. Skye’s not into chicks and she’s not cool with Jackson doing anything on his own.
“I need a third and my girl’s a bit skittish with being shared. She’s fighting what she needs and her time of push me, pull me with her fear is at an end. She doesn’t know you and that will make it much easier for her to wrap her mind around it. During and afterward. It’ll be better that way.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“Chris and Jared hired you. They don’t hire assholes.”
Bryan’s lips curled into a smirk and he chuckled before answering. “Touché.” He did some kind of mental tabulations in his head before asking, “Who?”
“Jenna.”
“Jenna?” It didn’t come out a question, it came out an accusation. “She’s the submissive you claimed for a month?”
Bryan didn’t just sound surprised. He sounded possessive. Pissed off even. Nick second-guessed his decision but Bryan continued.
“Dude, sorry.” He ran a hand over his spiky blond hair, giving it a tug before leaning against the drawer he had open. “It’s been one long-ass night and that hit me like a baseball bat.”
“Why?” Nick asked skeptically.
“At a vanilla place of business, two employees dating is like a hornet’s nest waiting to erupt. Change that vanilla into sex at a BDSM club and you’re asking for trouble. You sure it’s a good idea? She might not want it at all or me to be involved.” He stared Nick down. The look would have cowed a lesser man.
Thankfully, Nick was immune. “She wants it. I’d bet my left nut she craves it above anything else. She’s given herself over to me and placed her body, mind and spirit into my keeping. The last thing I’m going to do is take advantage or defile her. If you’re not interested, than just say so but don’t question me on what my girl needs.”
“Your girl? Thought it was just temporary.”
“We’ll see.”
“She’s damn attractive.”
Where that came from, Nick didn’t know but he didn’t need any more time to contemplate the offer before he took it off the table.<
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“I’m in. Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there.”
“You seem awfully unsure about this. The last thing she needs is to be surrounded by uncertainty of any kind, even if it’s really not directed at her.”
“Fucking an employee of the club I’m employed by seems vaguely entrenched in gray area.”
“I’m sure Jared and Chris told you what they allow and what they don’t. Sex with a coworker isn’t in the no-fly zone.”
“Just because it isn’t on theirs doesn’t mean I’m automatically okay with something. I appreciate you asking, man. As I said before, I’m in. Text me the details and I’ll be there. Trust me, I wouldn’t miss the chance to get inside her.”
“She’s going to be blindfolded when it happens, so she can just be herself and let all the other bullshit go. You’ll be anonymous.”
“Perfect.”
“I’ll send you the info when I decide when it needs to happen.”
Bryan agreed, turning back toward the filing cabinet with no other words to accompany his nod.
“I’m out if you don’t need anything.”
“I’m good.”
Thank fuck.
Nick didn’t waste time getting to the stage. He grabbed a blanket out of his playroom and jogged the rest of the way.
Seeing her on the monitor had been something. Watching her self-rig had blown his damn mind. Watching her tie with such passion and practiced ease multiplied the desire rushing through his veins.
Seeing her live and in person, twirling in her own rope, highlighted from the lights above made pride swell inside him until it threatened to burst free.
She was nothing but breathtaking as he crossed the room to the steps on the left and up onto the stage.
He spread the blanket out close to the frame, keeping an eye on her for signs of struggle or distress. If she’d given him any indication either on the camera or hanging before him that she needed immediate help he would have pulled the safety knife from his pocket and cut her down.
Rope be damned. It could be replaced.
The knife could be used for other naughty things too, which is why he carried it on him even when he wasn’t tying.
Always.
Blood pooled in her leg and foot creating a bluish tint to her skin. It was expected for the kind of tie she was in much less the duration she’d been up. She wiggled her top foot, curling her toes. That simple movement told him what he needed to know about her immediate safety and he mentally tipped his hat to her again on her skill level and her degree of fitness.
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