by Livia Grant
I did as he asked, flinching when the cool surface of the chair made contact with my still hot and punished ass.
Dean’s mouth quirked into a devilish smirk which I remembered so well. The sadist in him always liked seeing signs of discomfort caused by a past discipline. It usually warranted a glare from me, which often landed me back in the same discipline position I was just in to begin with. It was always a delicious and vicious cycle we encountered. I had loved every minute of it.
Walking to where I sat with the ribbon in his hands, Dean didn’t hesitate with wrapping the silky material around my body and tying me to the chair.
Hostage.
Dean’s hostage.
The way it should have always been.
Round and round the ribbon wrapped, securely holding me in place. My ankles were strapped to each leg of the chair, forcing my thighs to be spread wide open. My arms were pulled behind me, driving my breasts to be out and more on display. I glanced down at the strips of fabric that covered a majority of my body and under the black light near by, the white ribbon glowed, illuminating my skin beneath it.
“You look like art,” Dean said, obviously noticing how the ribbon was enhanced by the lighting of our area.
I resisted a little to see how strong the binds were, and was surprised at how strong the ribbon really was. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t have been able to escape.
“By far the sexiest captive I’ve ever seen,” he said as he tightened the knots behind my back.
Other participants of the party walked by and paused to appreciate Dean’s handiwork. The man knew how to loop and knot rope like a true master. I had always loved how he would tie me up in the past, but this time with the ribbon was different. It was far more sensual and seductive, and with the glowing ribbon beneath the lights, the other members were also taking notice of the beauty. Normally, having the eyes of others on me, I would have been embarrassed and would feel the suffocating need to escape. But not this time. The ribbons made me feel beautiful.
Dean made me feel beautiful.
As the last knot was secured behind me, restricting my arms behind the chair, Dean leaned down to my ear and whispered, “I’m going to teach you a lesson of what happens to naughty submissives who run away.”
Tingles of anticipation ran over my skin as I shuddered with the way his voice crumbled all walls of bravado.
Walking around the chair, he stood before me and admired his creation. He pulled the knife out of his pocket and held it before him, making sure I could see what was to come. The steel handle reflected the lights, making it impossible to not stare at.
“You ran away from me,” Dean said as he closed the distance between us and squatted before me.
I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.” I watched the way the blade glimmered against the club lighting, making the sharpness of the tip appear even sharper than I knew it to be.
Dean placed the tip of the knife on my ankle and slowly ran it up my calf, up my thigh, over my hip, along my ribcage, and then circled my breast. He pressed the flat surface of the blade against my hardened nipple, the coolness intensifying the sensation. I gasped, but was too scared to move even the slightest. I feared that my own reactions would force Dean to pierce my skin and cause me to bleed. I didn’t want to see my own blood.
No longer in a squat, but positioned on his knees, he repeated the same motion on the other ankle, leg, hip and breast. I tried to control my breathing to remain as still as I could, but when he lowered the tip of the knife to the curve of my belly and lowered it to the top of my mound, I gasped again, which turned into a whimper as the beating of my heart thumped against my chest.
“Shhh,” he said as he lowered the knife to my pussy. “Stay very still.”
The sound of ribbon being sliced apart as more pressure of the knife pressed against my most intimate place, filled me with panic. I considered, for a moment, using my safe word, but took a calming breath instead. I knew I could trust Dean. This man had earned my respect, my admiration, and most certainly my trust. He wouldn’t cause permanent harm. He wouldn’t, and I knew this. But that knowledge didn’t take away the nerves and anxiety streaming through my veins.
I glanced down and watched as Dean cut the rows of ribbon that concealed my sex. He then brought a long piece of silky fabric, damp with my arousal, and wrapped it over my eyes. Though the ribbon wasn’t thick enough to act as a blindfold, it did force my eyelids to remain shut. With no sight, my other sensations were heightened. I could smell the musk of my desire, hear the cadence of the music in the background, an occasional cry of arousal mixed with pain from a submissive woman, and the deep breathing of Dean as he leaned near my ear and kissed.
“I can smell that you like this,” he nearly growled in a low voice. He ran his tongue along the ribbon that kept my eyes closed and licked in one long stroke. “I can taste just how much you do.” The cool blade ran down the crevice between my breasts, and Dean whispered near my ear, “Mewl for me, my pet.”
I did so, but by no control of my own. Not being able to see where the knife was, or where it was going, escalated my fear to a new level. The sound of ribbon being cut as the blade ran along the surface of my skin sent electricity to my very core. My body hummed with every swipe of the metal.
“Others are watching you right now,” he said as he applied a trail of kisses along my shoulder blade, followed by the knife. “They are watching the white-lit ribbon being cut from your body. Your legs are spread wide, your pink pussy on display, your nipples erect and just begging to be sucked. So fucking hot.”
A stinging swat landed on my pussy. I cried out due to surprise more than pain.
“Will you ever run from me again?”
He swatted my pussy again, and then again, before I could get my words out quick enough. “No! No, Sir.”
Dean spanked my pussy one more time and then replaced his hand with the flat side of the knife. Having an instrument that was so deadly near such an intimate part of my body had my heart seizing. I had to keep telling myself that my Dom would take me right to the edge, but wouldn’t let me fall. He was there to hold me. He was there to keep me right where I needed to be… with him. Always.
Out of nowhere, I heard a woman call out, “RED”.
I froze, as did Dean.
“What’s going on?” I asked, nervous that I couldn’t see.
Dean didn’t answer right away, but when he finally did, he said, “It’s okay. It doesn’t concern us. He leaned in and placed a few soothing kisses on my neck. “It’s just you and me right now. Focus on you and me.”
The knife continued its path of destruction on the helpless ribbon. The fire in my soul blended with the cool air of the room as the shredded ribbon fluttered from my body. Very slowly, my arms became free, then my legs, and eventually my eyes.
Dean kneeled between my legs and looked up at me. “Will you ever run again?”
I shook my head, fighting back the tears that I had thought were all completely shed. “No. Never.”
Free from my restraints, I had never felt so tethered before in my life. I didn’t need any physical binds to hold me to this man. I was his and knew that I would never try to escape him again.
Chapter 8
“So now what do we do? The party is almost over,” I asked as Dean and I sat near the bar at a table, drinking our vodka as we basked in the glow of an amazing Valentine’s Day spent together.
“Well, a lot of that depends on you,” he said. “What is it that you really want?”
“I want you,” I admitted matter-of-factly. The funny thing about feeling submissive is it acts like a truth serum. Any games, or any attempt at trying to act coy dissolved the minute I surrendered to Dean’s dominance.
“As your Dom?” he asked.
I nodded, glancing down at my drink. “Yes, Sir. But…” I brought the glass to my lips and drank, stalling as I tried to find the courage to ask for what I truly wanted.
“But what?” Tho
ugh Dean was asking a question, I knew that me not answering it was not an option. It was more of a command to tell him exactly what was on my mind.
“I want more than just the nights at Black Light like we had before. I want you in my life permanently.” I looked up at him, realizing at that moment that I had been avoiding eye contact. “I understand if you don’t want that, especially with what I did to you and leaving the way I did. But it’s what I want. You’ve always earned your right to be my Dom. But I would like the chance to now earn my right to be your submissive both in play and in life.”
“You’ve never lost that right,” he said, reaching out for my hand. He smiled warmly. “I want you as mine in all ways too. Black Light, home, and work.”
“Work?” I asked, confused. “You know I gave up my company.”
He nodded. “I know that. Lucky for me, I picked up a lot—if not most—of your clients when you did. But it’s left me extremely overworked with no time to play. And since I have someone now in my life to play with”—he winked as his smile grew—“I need some help with that workload. You were damn good at what you did, Melinda. When I was your competitor, I hated that fact about you. But now, I would like to make you an asset to my company. Come work for me. Definitely take on the clients you once had since I know they still love you, and help me grow the company.”
“You’re offering me a job?” I looked around at the club as all the play was dying down and aftercare was beginning. “Here? After what we just did?” I laughed.
He chuckled. “I would say you passed your interview with flying colors.” His face grew serious. “But I mean it. I want you to come work for me. I know you loved it. You were too good at it not to have. Mark should have never made you give it all up. I’m offering you the chance to take it all back. If you want it.”
If it were possible for a heart to explode, mine would have that very minute. Not wanting to cry any more than I had already that night, I swallowed back the overwhelming love I had for this man that wanted to manifest itself as a weeping woman. “I do want it back. I do.”
“Then it’s yours. You’re hired. But I have to warn you. I’m a sadist of a boss.”
I giggled as I leaned back in my chair and stared up at the ceiling. I tried to process the whirlwind of a night I’d just had, with little success. “When I came here tonight,” I started, looking back at Dean. “I had no idea it would end with me getting my life back. A life I should have never left.”
I stood up and walked over to where Dean sat and lowered myself on top of him, straddling my legs on both sides of his thighs. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I brought my lips to his and kissed him.
He broke the kiss and ran his fingers through my hair. “Tomorrow is the beginning of a new path. You and me. No more Mark. No more insecurities. No more running.”
“This is how it should have been all along,” I said softly. “This is the path I should have chosen.”
Dean swatted my ass. “You just took the long way getting here.”
“But I’m here,” I whispered as I brought my lips to his again. “I’m finally here.”
The End
About the Author
Alta Hensley is a USA TODAY bestselling author of hot, dark and dirty romance. She is also an Amazon Top 100 bestselling author. Being a multi-published author in the romance genre, Alta is known for her dark, gritty alpha heroes, sometimes sweet love stories, hot eroticism, and engaging tales of the constant struggle between dominance and submission.
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Confessions
A Black Light: Roulette Redux Novella
By
Measha Stone
Chapter 1
“I swear, Dani, you make the best lasagna rolls I’ve ever had.” Scott pushed back from the dining table and ran a hand over his firm abs.
“Scott. Your mother immigrated from Italy. I’m pretty sure her sauce is a bit better than the jar of Prego I opened.” Dani picked up the empty casserole dish and took it into the kitchen. “Don’t blow smoke up my ass. Just ask what you want to ask,” she said walking back into the dining room of her one-bedroom apartment.
“He wants another tat.” Grayson announced while Scott sipped his beer.
Dani laughed. “Is that all? Just say so. I’ll make room on my schedule next week, just let me know when and what.” Since opening her own tattoo parlor three years ago, she’d had Scott in her chair seven times already.
“Great.” Scott clapped his hands and rubbed his palms together.
“I noticed your front window is cracked. The plastic will hold some of the chill out but your super should really replace it.” Gray stalked through the living room to the offending window pane. Since Sunday dinner was officially over, of course Gray would now go through his checklist of things to make sure everything was as it should be. From apartment maintenance to being sure she took her vitamins.
“I know, Gray. I already called him. He’s coming out tomorrow to replace the glass.”
“Okay, good. And what about that lease on the shop, your landlord didn’t try screwing you over with a rent increase, did he?”
Scott picked up his beer bottle and found a spot on the wall to lean against. Dani threw on a smile, determined not to get into another battle with Gray.
“Nope. All taken care of.”
“The car—“
“Gray.” She dropped a fork on the small stack of plates she gathered to clear off the table. “I’m a big girl, and have been for a while now. You two don’t need to hover over me like mother hens.” The overprotectiveness had been cute when she was fresh out of high school and they returned from deployment, but after five years, it was getting old.
Gray and Scott had both been in the infantry unit with her older brother, Sammy. All three went off to Afghanistan, but Sammy didn’t make it home. Shaking the two of them was impossible after they finished the last six months of their active duty and settled back home. Something about a warrior’s promise or some shit. Not that she tried too hard. With her parents already gone, Sammy was all she had left—having Gray and Scott fill that void hadn’t been a hard decision to make. They were her family.
“Okay. Fine.” Gray sat back down at the table, watching her as she gathered the silverware. “You going out tonight?” he asked.
She sighed. “Yes, as a matter of fact I am.”
“Not back to that club you were at last week? I don’t want you down there, Dani. Not alone.” The little tick in his jaw when he stared at her with all his seriousness made her smile. So easily riled. He didn’t even make it hard.
“Well, then, maybe you should come with me?” She threw on a smile and winked at Scott, who remained against the wall watching.
“You asking me on a date?” He asked, the tease in his voice subtle. Like she could do that, muster up the courage to be so bold as that? Not with Gray.
“I’ll be fine.” And she would be, but mostly because she was only going out for a movie with a friend from the shop. Not that she couldn’t use a little playtime at her dungeon, but she had an early morning ahead of her.
“I’m serious, Dani.”
“I am too, Gray. Now, I’m going to put these in the dishwasher.” She left Gray sitting at the table glaring after her, and Scott looking amused. Every time Gray started in on her about where she chose to play, Scott sported the same expression. Like he knew something no one else in the room did.
Leaving the stack of dishes on the counter, she opened the dishwasher and rolled out the bottom rack.
“Speaking of clubs, did you find that application for the Roulette game?” Scott asked in the dining room.
“I did.” Gray answered with a hushed tone.
Dani turned the water
down to a slow steady stream and turned her focus onto the conversation they’d obviously waited until she was out of the room to have.
“Not a bad deal, right? One night of play and a free month’s membership.” Scott’s voice remained at normal volume, while Gray lowered his to the point even the little trickle of water drowned him out.
She flipped off the water all together, and gently, being as quiet as humanly possible slid the plates into the rack.
“Maybe we should mention it to Dani. She’d have fun, and it’s a safer place than she usually hangs out,” Scott suggested.
Dani froze, bent over holding a plate steady. What game were they talking about? And what club?
“No.”
“You know, we never promised Sammy we’d keep her from having a life.” Scott’s voice hardened.
Dani nodded, agreeing quietly from the kitchen. More than Gray’s approval at the moment, she needed them to mention the club name.
“No. I promised I’d keep her safe. I promised him that I wouldn’t let anything happen to her, and having her come to a club and play a game that pairs her up with some random Dom doesn’t sound like I’d be doing my job.” She recognized that tone. Gray wouldn’t budge now.
Scott responded, but too quietly. Dani couldn’t hear, but it didn’t matter. She’d figure it out. If it was a club they were attending it had to be a sweet place to play. Her tattoo parlor kept her comfortable, but not their sort of comfortable.
As soon as they left, she’d be calling her contacts at Overtime, a less secretive BDSM club. Someone there would have the scoop on the event.
If there was fun to be had, and a way to get under Gray’s skin just a hair, she was game. It would be well worth the lecture he’d dole out afterward.
Completely worth it.
Chapter 2