What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 2)

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What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 2) Page 27

by Vi Keeland


  “Abby is fine with doing a scene with you, and with me watching.” Jake’s voice was neutral but his body was tense.

  “Good.” Chase turned to me, that same easy smile on his face. “I’d like to do some rope play with you.”

  My heart thudded, remembering the pictures I’d seen online of the intricate knots involved in rope bondage. I was excited to experience this, only a moment of panic intruding.

  Chase explained briefly what he’d like to do in the scene: tie me with hemp ropes, in a symmetrical manner to a table, restraining me in such a way that allowed him to penetrate me, if that was the outcome of the scene.

  “Sex isn’t always the outcome of a scene, although it can be. But with rope bondage, sometimes the goal is aesthetic, not sexual.”

  His brown eyes swept over me. There was nothing hidden in that look at all; if Chase had his way, and I believed he would, there would be sex at the end of the scene.

  “You can undress, put your clothes in the cabinet over there.” Chase was moving around the room, taking out ropes, placing them on a small table. Jake was standing in one corner of the room, watching intently.

  The curtain at the door was still pulled back and I’d noticed one or two people looking in, curious expressions on their faces. I hesitated briefly, debating whether I wanted this to be public or private. It was my choice although no one had actually asked me.

  But I remembered my brief walk through the lounge and the frankly admiring glances of the men, and women. They found me attractive; they found me pleasant to look at. There was nothing I needed to be ashamed of. I decided the scene would be public.

  I undid the zippers on my skirt and corset, peeling them away from my body. I undid the clasps on the garter, slowly removing my stockings, tucking everything away into the cabinet.

  Chase was done arranging the ropes. I stood off to the side, eyes lowered, waiting for instructions. He came to stand in front of me.

  “I know you have a safe word you use with your Master, but for tonight we’re going to use green, yellow and red. I’ll ask you for a color, and if you’re fine, say green. If something bothers you, at any time, you may say yellow and tell me what it is. And if you want to stop, for any reason, any at all, you say red, any time you need to. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master.” It felt distinctly odd, but also strangely arousing, to call someone other than Jake Master. I glanced over at him but he didn’t return my look.

  A smile played across Chase’s lips. He looked very pleased with himself, and with me. With a jolt, I realized I wanted him to say ‘good girl’, like Jake did. But he went on.

  “Good. I’ll ask you periodically if you’re okay, if something’s too tight or if your arms or legs are getting numb or cold. Rope play has its risks. Be honest and tell me exactly what you feel. Ropes can cut off circulation or pinch nerves. If anything starts feeling unsafe, speak up. Say the color word or just tell me what’s happening. I’ve never had anyone be hurt in my club, and you’re not going to be the first. I take this very seriously and your safety is my responsibility. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Good. Let’s get started then.” His smile deepened, lighting up his eyes.

  There was a waist-high table in the center of the room and Chase guided me to it, helping me up to sit on the end. The table was narrow, with two extensions on either side near the other end, making it look somewhat like a cross. I shifted my weight and suddenly had the panicky feeling I was going to fall off the table.

  “Breathe, Abby. You’re fine.” Chase was looking down at me, still smiling. I managed a smile in return.

  I heard him moving around behind me. He reappeared holding a white rope, doubled, in his hands.

  “Okay. I’m going to start with your waist.” He wrapped the rope around me, gently straightening the rope, making it lay flat against my body. He wound the rope round my waist and up my torso several times, eventually tying it in front of me in a complicated looking knot. He ran the rope up my body, making more wraps beneath my breasts and then above them. From the back he ran one strand down either side of my shoulders, threading them beneath the ropes that ran around my chest.

  The sensation of his warm hands contrasted with the slightly scratchy feeling of the rope. His fingers brushed against my breasts periodically, sending little frissons of pleasure coursing through my body.

  With gentle but continuous force, he pulled the ropes tight. I could feel them pulling against my breasts, tugging them up and apart, squeezing them. I made a small noise.

  “Are you alright, Abby? Give me a color.” Chase’s voice was instantly in my ear.

  “Green, Master.”

  “Are the ropes too tight?”

  “No, Master.”

  Chase tied the two ends of rope together in front of me. He then helped me lie back on the table.

  “I’m going to tie your arms next.”

  My outstretched arms were tied to extensions, in a series of wraps and elegant knots. I could see them by turning my head and they were extraordinarily pretty.

  Chase asked me again if I was okay and I said that I was. But this time there was something different in his voice. He’d moved to the end of the table between my legs and I glanced at his face.

  “Your legs are next. Just relax.” He took one leg and then the other, bending and manipulating them, pulling them up and out, wrapping them with white rope. I was completely open and exposed, nothing hidden from anyone. I could feel cool air on my pussy, but the heat that had been building slowly in my body as Chase had been doing his magic with the ropes suddenly blossomed. I knew I was wet, knew Chase could see. And at that moment, I wanted him to see, wanted him to know how aroused I was.

  He disappeared from my field of vision periodically, moving methodically through his tasks. I caught sight of his face at times and there was a rapt expression, as if he were meditating or in prayer. The occasional question to me came in a voice that had grown softer, lower. I wondered what effect this process had on him, how binding someone in a series of complex knots made him feel.

  And then he was done. I was asked again for a color, I again said green.

  I closed my eyes, allowing myself to mentally examine each part of my body, to feel the ropes against my skin, to tense and relax my muscles, testing my bonds. They were restrictive, but not tight. There was enough give in the ropes that I felt comfortable. I smiled at that thought; I was bound on a table, unable to move but was comfortable.

  There was warmth against one breast and I opened my eyes as Chase began flicking his tongue over my distended nipple. There was an instant of profound sensation, bordering on pain, as he bit down lightly. I cried out, watching as he pulled the nipple with his teeth. He held it for a brief instant and then let go. He moved to the other side, repeated this and elicited the same response from me.

  Bending his head, he licked and sucked his way across my breasts. The pressure of having them bound made them almost excruciatingly sensitive. Each breath, each flick of the tongue was more intense than the last. It wasn’t long before I was crying out with each brush of contact. There seemed to be no relief from Chase as he continued with this play.

  And I found I didn’t want relief. I wanted more. But there was no way to arch against his mouth. I was totally under his control.

  At length he moved away. I could hear movement and feel an occasional cool breeze across my heated skin. I knew he was there and I knew Jake was behind me somewhere, watching.

  Then Chase was standing between my bound legs, looking down at me. With a start I realized he had taken off his clothes. I let my eyes travel over what was visible to me: a broad, heavily muscled chest covered in auburn hair, trailing down to a thatch at the apex of his thighs. Just visible was the head of a very erect cock, rising up from Chase’s body. And poised between my bound and spread legs.

  There was no doubt the outcome of this scene and my body responded instantly with a flood
of heat that only increased the wetness I felt between my legs. My breasts were throbbing, both from the ropes and from Chase’s attention to them.

  The look on Chase’s face told me everything; that he knew exactly how I felt at that moment. His eyes were hot, so brown they almost looked black. He was breathing hard and fast, not gasping, his face relaxed, totally in control. In this moment, this was exactly what he wanted; I was exactly what he wanted. And he was going to take me, but on his own terms and in his own good time.

  I felt his hands on my legs, caressing my thighs. Each brush of his fingers sent searing heat through my body, making my muscles twitch and contract. I strained against the ropes, felt the pressure of them digging into my skin, adding a counter-point of sensation to Chase’s fingers.

  The tension in my body had me thrumming, almost vibrating. I was poised on the edge and all he’d done was tie me up and touch me. My eyes met his and with all my will I begged him to take me, silently urging him to fuck me, now, hard, release the tension my body held.

  Chase leaned forward, his eyes never leaving mine. “You may speak, Abby.”

  Given permission, the words tumbled out. “Oh, please, Master…oh, god, please…take me now! Please…please…” my words trailed off into incoherent pleas, ending in what sounded like a sob. I realized I was crying, tears running down my face.

  Chase stood for a moment, watching me, his look telling me everything he was going to do.

  Then he was in me, thrusting hard, his suddenness taking me by surprise. I cried out…I screamed. My body was held captive by the ropes; I couldn’t push back or away, twist or thrash. I had no choice but to give up any last illusions of control I thought I had. I stopped tensing against the ropes, let my body relax, let my mind stop focusing on what I was supposed to be doing or feeling.

  And when I did that, everything changed, for the better. I let Chase have complete control, let him dominate me…trusted that he would make everything right. And it put me at the center of it all. I wasn’t able to move, to actively participate in this, but all of Chase’s attention was focused on me. The rush I got from that realization that was amazing.

  The touch of the ropes on my skin faded away. I stopped focusing on Chase’s cock inside me although it was the center of everything I was feeling. But it was more than that now. Something shifted in my body and while I was aware—acutely aware—of each pounding thrust into me by Chase, it was no longer just my body that was responding. My mind stopped trying to register each physical sensation, to put a name to it. I just accepted it and felt it.

  And then I felt everything, not individually but as one giant sensation. I stopped feeling the ropes on the surface of my skin but felt them on some deep cellular level. That melded with the pounding and thrusting of Chase in my body. And all that suddenly changed into just wave after wave of pure pleasure, with no apparent beginning or end. My mind went blank and my body took over.

  I remember hearing my name being called from a distance. Chase was asking me for a color. A color? Um…

  “Purple.” It was the color I was seeing splashed across the insides of my closed eyes.

  “Abby, honey, give me a color.” It was Jake, close to my ear. I opened my eyes.

  “Oh, green. Please, dear god…green.” I closed my eyes as the sensations started to fade away. I slowly came back to my body, felt the ropes biting into my skin. I realized Chase was no longer between my legs. I tried to look, to turn my head, but my body felt like someone else was controlling it and it wouldn’t respond.

  There was a tugging at my arm and I realized Chase was untying me. As each limb was free, I moved it, experimentally at first, wiggling my fingers and toes, tensing and releasing my calf and thigh muscles, forearms and shoulders.

  Finally they sat me up, Jake holding my arm, Chase undoing the knots with swift fingers. I closed my eyes, leaning against Jake, his solid warmth, his familiar scent in this strange place acting like an anchor for me.

  When I was free of all the ropes, Jake helped me down from the table. My legs were shaky and I was starting to shiver, just as I had after my first session with Jake.

  Then I was sitting in an oversized armchair, wrapped in a blanket. Jake was crouched at my feet, gently chafing my hands. He looked worried; a frown creased his forehead. I reached out and stroked his cheek.

  “Hey…” my voice was a hoarse croak. I tried again. “Jake…”

  “Shh…” he took my hand, kissing my fingers. “Don’t try to talk. You’re probably going to be hoarse for a while.”

  Hoarse? For a while?

  “What happened?”

  Jake’s looked changed to one of mild surprise. “You really don’t remember, do you? Chase said you’d gone into subspace…” I shrugged, not knowing what that meant. Jake reached for a glass of juice from a nearby table and handed it to me. I drank greedily, the sharp tartness cutting through the residual fog in my mind.

  “It’s hard to describe. Some people say it’s like an out-of-body type feeling, or they can’t remember what happened.” He was still holding my hand. I’d stopped shaking and now was intensely curious about what exactly had happened to me.

  “What did I do? What happened to me?” Jake reached the glass, which I realized was empty.

  “You went somewhere, Abby. Your body went limp, then you had some kind of huge orgasm that went on for the longest time. Chase asked you for a color, you know, green or red…and you said purple.” He smiled.

  “That’s not one of the safe word colors. I panicked for a second, but then you told me green.”

  I nodded. “I remember hearing your voice. That’s all. But, my voice? Did I make noises?”

  Jake’s smile broadened. “You sure the hell did. Like none I’ve ever heard.”

  I laughed. And then I yawned, suddenly exhausted.

  “Can we go home?”

  Jake took me to his house. I had fallen asleep in the car and woke up as he pulled up beneath the portico. On autopilot, once he’d opened my door, I headed for the tower room door. But with his arm around me he gently steered me toward the door for the house. He guided me upstairs and into a large bedroom with a king-sized bed. Nice guest room.

  He pulled back the covers, sitting me on the edge of the bed, taking off my shoes, gently undoing the zipper on my corset, kneeling in front of me briefly as he slid my skirt down my legs. I was dimly aware I was missing my stockings.

  “Lay down, Abby.” I may have fallen asleep standing up. Without opening my eyes, I let Jake help me beneath the covers, pulling them up around my shoulders. I was aware of movement on the bed and then the dim light that had been the only light in the room went out.

  Jake’s arms went around me, pulling me against his body. I snuggled against him, then struggled awake for a moment.

  “You can sleep in your own room, Jake. You don’t have to sleep in here with me.”

  There was a pause and I heard him laugh softly.

  “Abby, this is my bedroom. Go to sleep.”

  I woke up to bright light and a large expanse of sheet between Jake and I. This bed is almost bigger than my apartment.

  He was still sleeping, clutching a pillow to his chest. I slid across the bed, gently pulling the pillow out of his arms and replacing it with myself. Jake stirred briefly, then opened his eyes. There was a slow dreamy smile on his face. He reached out, brushing what must have been a tangled mess of hair from my forehead.

  “Hey, you.” He kissed my forehead. “How do you feel?”

  “Tired, still. But better…rested, I mean. My muscles feel sore, like I’ve been in the ring for ten rounds.”

  He nodded, pulling me close. “I can imagine. You went through a lot last night.”

  There was a moment of quiet. I could hear birds singing outside.

  “Did you enjoy yourself, Abby?” His voice was light, his question innocent enough, but there was something underlying it that made me tense up.

  “I think I did. It’s too soon t
o tell.” And it really was. There was a great deal to think about, to try to understand.

  “Did you enjoy yourself, Jake?” I tried to look up at him, but he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. There was a long pause, as if he was choosing his words with care.

  “Let’s say I learned a lot.” His voice was tense. I pushed away from Jake, sitting up next to him.

  “What do you mean? What did you learn? This affects both of us, not just you.”

  Jake looked up at me for a moment, then pushed himself up to sit next to me. He took a deep breath but wouldn’t look at me for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, hesitant. This wasn’t the Jake I was used to. I waited.

  “When I saw you last night with Chase, when he was fucking you…I realized I didn’t want that…didn’t want to share you with another man, even in the context of a scene at a club.”

  He looked at me. There was vulnerability in his eyes. Something had changed tonight in Jake, something important and vital, and I wasn’t sure where this was headed.

  “I was jealous. Very jealous.”

  “Jake, you could have stopped the whole thing. You were there; you could have stopped Chase.”

  He took another deep breath. “I know. But you were so…you were enjoying it so much I didn’t want to take that away from you.” He turned to me.

  “Abby. You asked me what I learned.” He took my face in his hands.

  “I learned that I love you.”

  I let myself into my apartment, tossing my keys on the coffee table. I’d been gone less than twenty-four hours but it seemed as though a lifetime had gone by.

  My relationship with Jake had changed. For the better, I wasn’t sure, but it had been irreversibly changed by our visit to Chase’s club.

  Jake loved me.

  And deep down, I realized that I quite possibly loved him as well. Although in the moment, I wasn’t brave enough to admit it to him. But he didn’t seem to need me to say the words. I realized he still needed to control the situation, to be the one to take the lead, even in showing his vulnerable side. Even admitting he loved me. And for now, I was okay with that.

 

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