by Brynley Bush
“I can do this all night,” he says evenly.
“Roman.” It’s a plea and a curse and an apology and a prayer.
Seconds later I’m looking into his somber gray-blue eyes, the blindfold lifted.
“Am I a predicament, Avalon?”
The pain in his eyes breaks my heart.
“Only because I want you more than I should,” I say honestly, my voice catching. “You make me feel things I never thought I’d feel. Things that are too dangerous for me to feel.”
He looks at me long and hard, and those intense eyes of his seem to see straight through to my soul. He sighs. “That’s enough for now,” he says softly.
He stands and removes the nipple clamps, and I look at him bewilderedly.
“Is it over?” I ask, trying not to let disappointment creep into my voice.
He rubs my nipples as the blood rushes back into them, and I can feel the ache between my legs at his touch. I’m going to die if he makes me wait much longer for the orgasm still hovering just out of reach.
“No, sweetheart, we’re only beginning,” he says with a smile.
He slips the blindfold back over my eyes and unbuckles the cuffs from my wrists and ankles, helping me stand. Using the hook that’s still buried in my ass like a handle, he turns me to face the audience, and my face heats at the eruption of applause. Then I’m in his strong arms, and he’s carrying me God knows where.
Wherever it is, it’s not far, and I hear the click of a door closing as the sounds of the club recede. We’re in some sort of private room, and he lays me down on something soft, like fur. It’s deliciously cozy and warm and comforting against my skin after being strapped unceremoniously over the horse, and I’m aware of his body braced over mine, even though I can’t see him. I explore his chest tentatively, clasping my hands around his neck as I pull him toward me, impatient to feel his lips on mine. He complies, his mouth slanting over mine as he kisses me hungrily. He takes my face in his hands, his lips so close to mine that we’re sharing the same breath.
“I want to fuck you,” he growls.
“I want you to fuck me!” I say breathlessly.
He keeps the blindfold on, and I can hear him fumble with a condom wrapper before he spreads me open and sinks his cock into my wet heat. The thick, pulsing length of him nestled snugly inside me is sheer heaven. The ball makes me even tighter, and he groans as he sheathes himself to the hilt. He begins to move, one hand imprisoning my wrists overhead and the other using the hook to move the ball inside my ass as he thrusts into me.
Roman doesn’t just fuck me. He claims me, replacing all my thoughts with him. He tempers my longing with the heat of his touch like fire refines iron into steel, turning my eagerness for him into grasping desperation. He ravages me with pleasure, destroys me with his all-consuming need until I meet him in the dark shadows of lust and depravity, sin and redemption. When we finally come together, it’s more than just sex. It’s a conflagration, a transcending blaze of two souls meant for each other, and when the flames burn to embers, I can feel myself emerging like a phoenix, daring to be reborn as something new.
Later, I climb into bed next to him in our suite, and he pulls me to him so I’m cradled against him with my back against his chest. I’ve gotten used to sleeping this way, my body surrounded by the comforting heat and strength of his, and my heart tightens at the thought of sleeping alone again after the games are over. He tenderly smooths my hair away from my face, and I snuggle closer to him, knowing I owe him an explanation. He deserves to know who Emmett is to me and why, and here in the dark, wrapped in Roman’s protective arms after he’s broken down my every defense, may be the only time I’ll have the nerve to tell him.
“Emmett saved my life,” I say softly.
Roman’s hand stills for half a second, and then he resumes playing idly with the long strands.
I sigh. “He didn’t just save my life; he gave it back to me.” I pause, trying to gather my courage to continue, and he waits patiently, his fingers stroking of my hair. “Something happened a couple of years ago. I…I did something terrible, and I couldn’t live with myself afterward. I didn’t think I deserved to live at all,” I say, my voice strangled. The truth is, I still don’t, but I can’t tell Roman that. I take another deep breath. “I decided to take my own life. I’d just returned to New York for my junior year at NYU, and that night I went to the Washington Square station and waited, making note of where the train began to slow down and the best spot to jump in front of it.”
Roman’s fingers have moved to my face, and he traces my cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. I turn into his hand as I continue. This is harder than I’d thought it would be, the memories still as fresh in my mind as if it were yesterday.
“There were still a lot of people there, even though it was almost midnight, so I got a train schedule and waited. By two a.m., the station was virtually empty, and I stood on the platform, waiting for the next train. I heard the rumble of the approaching train, and I stepped off the platform.”
Roman’s breath stops for a fraction of a second as his hands tighten almost imperceptibly. He pulls me closer, his arms wrapping around me protectively as if to stop me from jumping all over again. I hold on to him tightly, just like Emmett had held me that night two years ago.
“I don’t know how I didn’t hear Emmett behind me. I guess I was just so focused on jumping in front of the train. Later he told me he’d guessed what I was planning to do and had crept up behind me in case his suspicions were correct. He grabbed me right as I stepped off the platform. I was angry as hell, hitting him and struggling to get free and cursing him for stopping me.”
“You?” Roman says drolly. “Imagine that.”
I never dreamed I would ever be able to tell someone this story, much less smile during it.
“Go on,” he encourages softly.
“He simply held me against his chest and let me hit him and curse him until the fight was gone, and then he began to put me back together. We sat huddled on a bench in Washington Square, and he told me about his life and how he’d thought about suicide five years before, and how instead he’d decided to fuck over the people who had hurt him by living the best possible life so they wouldn’t win.
“What happened to me was terrible, but what Emmett has been through is horrific. I wasn’t sure I deserved a second chance, but he convinced me to at least reconsider. The fact that he’d not only survived what he’d been through but also thrived gave me a shred of hope that somehow I might salvage my own life. We were kindred spirits, and we stayed and talked until the sun came up, and then I followed him home like a lost puppy.
“I know that sounds crazy, but he was afraid to leave me, and to be honest I was too emotionally raw to even think straight. I suppose he could have been a serial killer, but at that point I didn’t really care whether I lived or died, so it was a moot point. He was living in a tiny studio apartment, and he let me stay with him that night. I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“What about your family?” Roman asks.
I sigh. Now we’re getting into tricky territory. “My father died when I was fifteen, and my mother remarried a year later. I didn’t get along with my stepfather, and my mom and I weren’t speaking at the time. I’d returned to New York because I already had a plane ticket back to NYU, but in the haze of depression that followed what happened that summer, I hadn’t registered for classes or signed up for housing. I wasn’t planning to be around to need them. My roommate had an apartment with her boyfriend, and she offered to let me stay with them, but it was a tiny apartment, and they were so normal and happy it just reminded me of what I’d never have again.
“So I stayed with Emmett. He understood me and what I’d been through like no one else could have. And he knew how to help me heal—when to make me talk and when to give me space, how long to let me hide and feel sorry for myself and when to push me out the door and make me start living again. I got a job at a coffee shop
and eventually enrolled in classes for the next semester. I appealed to have my scholarship reinstated, and between his income as a tattoo artist and my scholarship funds and part-time job at the coffee shop, we were able to afford a one-bedroom loft apartment in Greenwich Village close to my classes.”
“And what did Emmett expect from you for coming to your rescue?” Roman asks, his voice hard.
I turn in his arms so I’m facing him. “Nothing. I told you before, it’s not like that between us.”
“And does he still hang out at the subway station, preying on vulnerable young girls?”
I roll my eyes. “Do you believe in destiny?” I ask him.
He shrugs. “Maybe.”
“Emmett does, and he’s convinced he was put there that night to save me. He’d gone out with friends that night, and they were getting in a cab when he realized he’d left his wallet at the bar. He told them to go ahead, and he went back to bar, but his wallet wasn’t there. He didn’t have money for a cab, but he had just enough change in his pocket to catch the subway home, which is how he happened to be at the Washington Square station when I was about to jump. He thinks I was his chance at redemption. It’s why he’s so protective of me.”
“Did he ever find his wallet?”
“Apparently his friend had picked up his wallet by accident and had it all along.”
Roman rubs my back comfortingly. “I’m forever in Emmett’s debt for saving you,” he says quietly. “The world would be darker without you in it. Whatever it was you did, it couldn’t have been that bad.”
I want to believe him, but I know it’s not true. He may think he’s the devil, but he doesn’t know what I’ve done. My soul is as black as his. Maybe more.
* * * *
The next day at lunch, which we are all required to attend, Logan announces the new standings, and somehow Roman and I are still in first place. Emmett and Rebecca have dropped to third place, and Rebecca glares at me when I hug Tessa and Luke, who’ve crept up to second. Unfortunately, Karl and Bella and Stefan and Desiree are going home, and we all say our good-byes after lunch. Spending so much time together in such close proximity over the past few weeks has made us friends quickly, and it’s surprisingly hard to see them leave. Many of the girls are tearful as they hug Desiree and Bella, and both women who are going home are openly crying.
“Will you and Stefan still see each other?” I ask Desiree as I hug her tightly.
“Honey, I finally met a man who deserves me. I’m not letting him go that quickly.” She holds me at arm’s length. “You don’t let Roman go either, you hear?” she says seriously. “You two are good for each other.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Roman
Given the upcoming Fourth of July holiday, we have a long weekend to do more or less what we please before the next group challenge, and I spend the time initiating Ava into the world of Domination and submission. I make good on my promise to tie her to the bed for an entire night of forced availability, taking her however and whenever I want, and she’s wet and ready for me every time, even when I wake her from a deep sleep with my cock already inside her.
I edge her, bringing her close to orgasm and then denying her over and over, teasing and tormenting her until she learns to control her physical responses and look to me for her pleasure. I tie her spread-eagled in front of me on the bed and coach her to bring herself to release, something she’s clearly uncomfortable doing. When she finally orgasms at my command with her fingers between her legs and my name on her lips, I feel an undeniable flare of satisfaction.
Over the next five days, my hands both pleasure and punish, the two blending seamlessly together so she doesn’t know where one stops and the other begins. I push her to very edge of her limits for pain and pleasure, and she never fails to meet me at the precipice.
I slowly bend her to my will, molding her into the perfect submissive. But she keeps a part of her to herself, closed off and untouchable. There’s always a small, hidden piece of her I can never touch, and it both frustrates me that I can’t break her completely and makes me want her even more, giving me hope that maybe I’ve finally found a woman stronger than my demons—a woman I can’t destroy. It’s fucked up and I know it.
We also talk a lot, and I find I enjoy Ava’s company almost as much as I enjoy her whimpers of pleasure and the feel of her sweet little pussy around me when I make her come. When I find out Lipstick Jungle’s playing at the Hard Rock, we sneak out like teenagers for one of the best nights I’ve ever had, dancing and flirting and kissing until two o’clock in the morning. Monday evening, we watch the fireworks over Caesars Palace with the rest of the contestants, with her tucked under my arm, and I can’t help but notice how perfectly she fits next to me.
On Wednesday morning, Logan announces the next event. “Most of the games so far have revolved around putting our submissives in some uncomfortable and challenging positions. We’re going to turn the tables during round five of the Power Games and have the Doms go head-to-head in a series of challenges.”
The girls exchange smiling looks, and Tessa cheers loudly.
“The shuttle bus will pick everyone up at one o’clock and take us to Lake Mead where this portion of the games will be held. Although the men will be doing most of the work, both Doms and subs should wear their swimsuits.
“Submissives, your Doms will need a little incentive from you to perform their best. The production team, along with our panel of experts, has come up with six possible rewards that the submissives might offer to their Dom if he wins. Each submissive will draw a reward. Of course it will be up to her whether she chooses to offer it to her Dom or not, and if she chooses not to offer the incentive, there will be no repercussions as far as the games are concerned. However, the Dom who wins this round will be awarded one hundred extra points for his team that will be added to the audience vote, so ladies, you’ll want to motivate your Dom if at all possible.”
He rubs his hands together. “We’ll start with our submissive who’s in first place. Ava? Come on up and draw your incentive.”
Ava walks to the front of the room where Logan is holding a glass bowl filled with slips of paper. She hesitantly fishes out a piece of paper and then opens it.
“Oh, God,” she mutters as she blushes furiously.
“If you would, please read it out loud so the audience knows what Roman’s working for.”
Completely mortified, she reads, “I’ll be your pet. I want to play. Pony or puppy, my Master I’ll obey.”
Several of the Doms whoop good-naturedly, and I can’t contain my grin as she slides back into the seat next to me. I’m so distracted by images of Ava on all fours, leashed and collared and wearing a plug with a tail, that I miss most of the other Doms’ incentives. Not that it matters. I fully intend to win this one. I wouldn’t pass up a chance for pet play with Ava for anything.
I’m pumped and ready when we arrive at Lake Mead. Although Ava had blanched when I’d answered her questions about exactly what pet play entailed, she’s agreed to it if I win the round. I’m beyond motivated.
First up is a team challenge. A platform has been set up about twenty feet above Lake Mead with a ladder leading to a flat, square wooden board that’s balanced on top of it. There’s a short border around the perimeter of the board, and a hole about the size of a softball drilled in it. All six Doms are paired off for the day’s games by random drawing, and we wait for instructions.
“This challenge will require some teamwork,” Logan says. “You and your partner will climb onto the board at the top of the platform. You will be given five balls that you will have to get through the hole in the board using only the balanced weight of your bodies to shift the board and maneuver the balls through the hole. As you can see, the board is not stable, so you’ll have to work together to balance yourselves and move the ball around the board. If you get off balance, then you’ll both fall off into the water and receive no points for this round. Are you ready?”
I draw Emmett, and we watch as Luke and Caleb fall into the water almost immediately after the crew release the ropes that hold the board steady. Michael and Jake fare better, and although it’s hard to see what’s happening on top of the platform, we watch as three balls drop into the water in quick succession. Unfortunately, the two men are next, tumbling headlong into the water with a splash.
“It’s harder than it looks,” Luke advises us. “Try to use your body weight instead of moving your feet. That’s where Caleb and I went wrong.”
I clap him on the back in thanks as Emmett and I climb the ladder to the top of the platform. We position ourselves diagonally across from each other and give a thumbs-up for the ropes to be released as five rubber balls are dropped onto the teetering board with us.
We both stand still, sizing each other up.
“Let’s try to get one ball at a time, shifting our weight as little as possible,” I finally suggest.
“Fine,” Emmett says. “You move first.”
I shift my weight slightly, and a ball rolls toward the center. Emmett shifts his stance the tiniest bit, adjusting slowly as I remain still until the ball drops through the hole. We look at each other and smile.
“Let’s do it again,” Emmett says.
He’s got a natural grace and athleticism, and we’re well matched in strength and physical ability. We’re also both willing to wait and be patient to achieve what needs to be done, and we move incrementally, barely needing to talk we’re so in tune with what the other is doing. After ten long minutes, the final ball drops through the opening, and we’re declared the winners of the first round, netting us each twenty points and earning me a kiss from Ava when we reach the ground.
“I think our Doms need a little extra incentive for the next round. Submissives, would you please step over here?”
The girls exchange nervous glances before slowly walking over to Logan, who’s standing on a pier where six poles are rigged onto platforms.