His Cold Blue Command: Indigo Knights Book II
Page 14
“I would never let anything happen to you; you know that don’t you?”
“I don’t…”
I sighed and smiled, knowing it held an edge of bitterness. I stroked her cheek and stared through my mask, through hers, into those green orbs I could never seem to get enough of looking at.
“I am actually quite fond of you, Bright Eyes. To the point, I wish that this could be something more sometimes…” I shut my mouth. It wasn’t a thought I could follow through on.
She deserved better than a twisted deviant fuck like me and something must have read on my face because she took another, fortifying sip from her glass and swallowed before saying, “I don’t think you’re bad at all. Quite the opposite actually. You’ve only ever been kind to me. Gone out of your way to help me and even had your friends help me… which is why this cold affectation is so confusing to me. It’s like you do these things that show you are a good man but then you’re so…” she struggled to find the words, and I think she was actually afraid of hurting my feelings. I can’t tell you how much that amused me. “Distant… you’re so cold.”
“That’s not you. That’s me.” I told her and she looked apprehensive.
“I wish you would just be you with me,” she said softly. “But it’s like you’re behind these walls, almost high up in a tower.” She closed her eyes and sighed a defeated sound.
“That’s the way it needs to be,” I said gently after downing at least half of the remaining champagne in my own glass in one swallow.
“I wish it didn’t have to be. I’d like more for you.”
Ah, but I saw it in her eyes, she wanted more for herself, too… I just couldn’t give it to her. Not the way she wanted. I felt it would just bring more misery than joy to her and that wouldn’t be fair. I already knew our sordid affair was taxing her personal life and relationships with her closest friend and only family. Guilt prickled across my awareness, but I batted it away. I could hear any number of my brothers from the MC in the back of my mind saying the cold hard truth of the matter, you either need to shit or get off the pot, man.
I either needed to take her, claim her as my own and stop toying with her heart, or I needed to man up and let her go. However, for tonight…
“Finish your champagne,” I said softly but not sternly. She nodded and swallowed some and I followed the movement it made down her gorgeous throat. I polished off my own and set the glass aside on the little marble side table and watched her. My jacket was gone, I laid a hand on her shoulder, where it swept up into her neck as she faced out into the room and swept my thumb lightly back and forth on the back of her neck. I applied gentle pressure, not enough to call it a massage, but neither was it light enough to be considered nothing.
Her eyes fluttered shut and I brought my other hand to the other side and murmured, “Kneel in front of me, face the room.” She adjusted herself accordingly, slipping from the cushion next to me to the plush black area rug between my knees, back to me as I’d ordered. I rubbed her shoulders and neck, and she let out a shuddering sigh, relaxing beneath the touch.
“Finish your champagne,” I reminded her, and she did, the last third of the glass of liquid disappearing between her lush burgundy lips. I took the glass from her and set it aside and returned to my ministrations, a plan beginning to develop as to how I would accomplish getting her nude and on the stage beyond the next set of curtains.
Just the thought of it excited me, bringing my cock from half-mast to fully erect. I put my lips to her ear and whispered just for her, “Do you know how erotic I find the idea of making love to you in front of all of these people?”
I buried my nose behind that same ear and breathed her in, even as she gasped and whispered back, “No…”
“Hmm, I don’t think there are words,” I murmured and placed my lips in a gentle caress against the side of her neck. Her sharp intake of breath told me I was on the right track. I pulled back and placed them slightly lower, leaning forward, my hands sliding against her body, sweeping against her silky skin as I marched my lips down the side of her throat in a quest to find that spot.
“I think it’s better if I just show you.” I breathed over it as I spoke and she let go of a breath I didn’t think she’d realized she’d been holding. I kissed her there, open-mouthed, nipping lightly at the spot, capturing it between my teeth just enough to draw it into my mouth, licking across it until she shuddered in my arms.
I smoothed one hand along her ribs while I continued to ravish her neck with my kiss, trailing the backs of my fingertips along her spine, ever upwards, along the nape of her neck. I buried that hand in her hair, gripping it, knuckles close to her scalp, locking it in. Her breath whooshed out and carried with it a deep, satisfying moan, her body falling limp against mine in perfect submission.
I used my hold in her hair to bring her back to my opposite shoulder so that I could give the other side of her neck the same attention as the first. I loved her reactions, her small cries, her shuddering against me, her rapid breaths, the gasps, and oh, my god, how she bit that bottom lip. I watched us in the mirror across from us and it was a beautiful sight: her body captured against mine, pale flesh framed in all that black, eyes closed behind the delicate lace mask.
“Up,” I demanded in her ear, my voice harsh with my own breathlessness that her sheer beauty had stolen away.
She rose with me, my hand in her hair controlling her, tightly wound in her tresses in the way that would allow me to control her without hurting her. There was a distinct art to pulling hair correctly, and it was one of the first tools I perfected when it came to controlling a woman, right after the first tool I used which was always to get her consent.
I walked us past the bar and through more curtains beyond into another room. A stage was set up, a half-circle sweeping out from the wall and lit from hidden lights above, in blue-white spotlights. Illuminated in the center of the black stage was a single black chair; wood, like something that should be at someone’s kitchen table.
I loosened my grip in her hair and swept my hand down her back, curving it around to rest on her hips. I stood with her in front of me and let her take in the scene. No one was in here with us yet. It was just us.
She let her eyes sweep the empty chairs staggered in rows around the stage, and her mind calculate through the haze I’d started in her. She turned to me at her side and asked, “You really want this, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Would it make you happy?”
“It would please me, yes…”
She turned to face me and traced the edge of my mask where it lay over my cheek and nodded slowly. I took her hands in mine and returned her to the front of me, putting myself between her and those who would be joining us in the room.
“It’s just us for now,” I told her evenly. “Just you and I, and nobody even knows your name.”
“You do,” she whispered and it sounded like that was important to her.
“I do,” I agreed.
She looked a touch sad when she said, “But you don’t know me… at least, not really.”
I chuckled darkly and pulled her against my chest, my hands sweeping over her skin, down over the supple curve of her ass, where I rested them on the lace of her panties.
“I know more than you think, Ally,” I whispered it carefully in her ear and her fingers dug slightly into my biceps. I smiled and pressed a light kiss to the front of her shoulder. She sighed out and her hands smoothed over the fabric of my shirt. Soft, light, timid as if unsure it was okay for her to touch me like that.
“Tonight you’re my lover, not my conquest, not my maid, do you understand?”
“I think so,” she whispered, and I felt my lips curve up once again.
“Show me,” I ordered, and her hands smoothed around my shoulders, along my triceps as she drew herself closer to me. Her hands continued their upward sweep along my collar before lightly resting to either side of my neck, her mouth moving hungrily to mine. I
let her have it, I let her kiss me, but once she did I lost some measure of my control. I kissed her back just as fervently as she kissed me, and it was pure nirvana.
I brought my hands up in a firm caress and unhooked the back of her bra, turning her away from the empty chairs, having her face me and the wall at the back of the stage. I was slightly vexed by the fact her touch and kiss had become a sort of kryptonite for me and so I made a decision. I looked up and sure enough, it was there, and within easy reach. I stepped back from her, where she shook with the after-effects of our passionate exchange, and I pulled at my tie, sliding it through the knot. I would need it for this.
With my other hand, I swept her bra off her chest and down her arms, casually tossing it onto the back of the nearby chair. As luck would have it, it landed perfectly, artfully hanging from the back as if I had planned for it to do so.
“Put your hands together, like you’re praying and hold them there,” I said, and I let my tone brook no argument from her. She did as I commanded and I swept my red tie off the rest of the way. I wound the silk around her wrists and between them, making sure the binding was loose enough to allow for her circulation.
The seats in the gallery were slowly beginning to fill with voyeuristic onlookers but Ally was focused on me, on what I was doing. I knotted the tie and held her wrists in my hands, looking at her over her bound hands.
“You know your safeword,” I whispered, and she took a tremulous breath.
“Yes, Sir.”
“What is it?”
“The color red.”
“Good.”
I raised her hands high above her head and set the bindings over the hook dangling from the industrial chain in the beam of the ceiling. She gasped and I stooped, cupping the heel of one of her stilettos with one hand, wrapping the ankle gently with my fingers. I eased first one, then the other, shoe off and set them neatly by one leg of the chair.
I let her hang, helplessly. If she stayed flat-footed on the floor, her arms would stretch. Even if she stood on tiptoe, without the aid of the shoes she could never unhook herself to bring her arms down.
“You’re safe,” I reminded her, as I unbuttoned my shirt. “You’re with me.” The slight panic in her green eyes eased immediately, and she swallowed hard… nervously. Nerves that change quickly from anxiety to anticipation, the more of myself I revealed by way of unbuttoning my shirt.
I cocked my head and swept her with my gaze, taking my time, deciding just what I wanted to do with her, now that I had her trapped firmly in my web…
22
Ally…
I jerked, pulling at my wrists, but they were held fast by the binding of his tie. I looked at him and felt a sort of fear for the first time. I think this was it. This was him with all pretenses stripped away. This was what he enjoyed, what he liked, and I didn’t know how to feel about it now that I was in it. This wasn’t at all what it was like in the storybooks, you know?
He looked me over, hanging there like a piece of meat and I swallowed hard as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Whatever was on my face must have told him something, even beneath the masks we wore because he smiled slightly and said, “You’re safe,” and reminded me that even though we were in unfamiliar surroundings that I was with him.
I closed my eyes and the panic subsided. I was with him, and he had never, ever done anything to hurt me. If anything, he had gone way out of his way to help me. This was no different. He was pushing me to expand my horizons, so to speak, but he was taking it slow. There was no one in here but him and me, and I could appreciate that.
I could also appreciate how his muscles moved beneath his skin as he pulled his shirt open and back off of his shoulders. God, he was magnificent. My eyes trailed down his ribs at the lettering there, large gothic script proclaiming ‘heart’ vertically until it reached his hip at which point the letters tumbled into ‘less’ as they dove into his pants, ending near his cock, which was tenting the dark material.
My eyes flicked up to his which held a cold heat to them as they devoured every line and curve of my body. I could feel it, like a very real physical caress, even as his hands reached for me, cascading down my flanks to come to rest on my hips which were clad in the black lace underwear and garter he had provided. He moved closer to me, hovering his lips over my own and I closed my eyes waiting for him to close that last little gap, wishing he would.
I would gladly die to experience his kiss and he so rarely let me have it. He denied me now, instead placing his lips under my jaw working his mouth down my neck once more. Where he had worried that place that made my knees weak before, he barely paid attention to it now. Instead, nipping his way along my skin, to my breast where he sucked the sensitive stiff peak of my nipple into his mouth.
I felt my voice escape me but I didn’t hear it. I definitely felt the fireworks scatter through my body at the intimate touch of his mouth, the sensation bright and flaring from my chest, in an explosion of sparks that fell through my body and settled in my pussy causing it to give one, long, slow, throbbing ache of want.
It was no less intense when he moved to the other breast, and the way his arms twined around me, gripping me against his hard body, bringing me off my feet and to his mouth. I loved that sensation. Loved that I felt so small and frail, loved that I indeed did trust him and the knowledge that he wouldn’t hurt me combined with the pleasure he was giving me made me go liquid with relief.
I let go, let him have me, and shivered at the satisfied growl that he let loose against my flesh. I opened my eyes when he left me, dangling there, but it was a short-lived thing. He fetched the chair and set it down in front of me, taking the seat. He looked up at me, eyes somehow deeper and even darker than usual through the black leather mask as he smoothed his hands over my nylon-covered legs in a warm, worshipping caress.
The intensity in his gaze caused the last of my nerves to ease and I watched him, looking down from where I hung, as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of my panties and swept them down to my knees. His hands went to my ass and brought me closer to his mouth which he used to kiss my stomach, and I felt my breath rush out as his intentions became clear.
His kiss fell on my mound next and his tongue, hot and wet, delved between the folds of my labia, looking for that tiny kernel of nerves that would drive me absolutely mad with pleasure.
I tugged on my restrained hands, the tie digging into my wrists. I wanted so badly to touch him, to reciprocate, but I was held fast, stretched tautly, and at his mercy. I gazed down my body at the light reflecting off his deep brown hair and bit my bottom lip. He tipped his head back carefully, dark eyes staring into my own as his mouth worked my body and I could see it buried deep in his gaze. He owned me. Maybe not permanently, but for right now, he did. Completely and utterly, and I cannot tell you how much that excited me. How much I ached and twisted and wanted it to be true. Not just for now, but for always, as long as he could make me feel like this.
I let my head fall back, my eyes shut, and a wild cry escaped me even as I felt my legs wouldn’t hold me. I felt him slide a finger inside me and I couldn’t... I couldn’t stop it; I couldn’t control it. With another desperate cry, I came, shuddering, the pleasure pulsing up through my body in time with my wildly beating heart. My knees gave out and the chain above me jerked and chimed as I lost my footing.
He stood, arms going around me, and held me up until I could get my feet under me though the haze of pleasure from the orgasm made it hard to think.
“Good girl, Bright Eyes,” he whispered in my ear and then he turned me around, to face our audience.
I balked, silently, eyes widening at the full gallery of chairs as men and women, elegantly dressed and masked as we were, sat and watched us. I tried to look away, but his hand was at my chin, gripping it firmly, but not painfully, the heel of his hand resting at my throat, his skin warm against my back as he pressed into me, drawing me back into him as he worked his belt with his free hand against my ass.
“Those women want to be you,” he breathed, and I felt the head of his cock hotly brush my thigh at the crease of my ass. He let me go, and I heard a packet tear open as he rolled a condom onto himself. His hand returned to my chin and my throat, the other to my hip, pulling back on it even as he guided me forward with his hand at my throat. He positioned me, and his lips returned to my ear.
“Those men want to be inside of you,” he told me, and he pressed his cock into my opening, easing his way in. “But you’re mine tonight, baby. All mine and all they get to do is watch.”
He shoved deep into my body and I cried out, forcing my hips back to meet him. I wanted him, I wanted this, and I couldn’t believe how turned on I was meeting the audience’s collective hungry gaze.
He didn’t give me time to think about it, stroking in and out of my pussy in long and controlled rolling movements of his hips that left me breathless and stoked the embers of my last orgasm back to life. Fire licked low from within my body and leaped, flitting along my veins, desire fanning them into a wildfire that ate through me and rose quickly. I gripped the tie binding my wrists together with my hands and held on, bowing my body, presenting my ass to him, making it easy for him to fuck me in front of these people, these strangers.
I did what he told me, too. I looked, I saw the women, the heat in their eyes past their bejeweled harlequin masks, their parted lips, their gently rising and falling chests, breaths deepening with desire. I watched the men, gripping the arms of their chairs with mottled fingers, likewise leaning forward in their seats as if they could take one of my nipples into their mouths. And the effect was astonishing.
A low, desperate moan escaped my throat and I could feel the tension and jealous desire rise. I was choking on it, drowning in the power our sexual energy unleashed into the room and I swear to you… I grew drunk on it. I succumbed to it completely and I when I let go? I let go.