by M. S. Parker
“One of the VIP rooms.” Dominic turned to face me. He frowned as he brushed back some hair from my face. “What are you thinking?”
I bit my lip nervously. “I’m afraid you’ll be upset.”
“No.” He rested his hands on my shoulders. “I want to know.”
I could feel the tension in his hands, in his body. “I…the woman on the stage.”
“His sub. I think they're permanent partners.” Dominic’s lashes lay low over his eyes, shielding his gaze from me. “Like us.”
My chest tightened at that. Permanent. Like us.
He continued, “That sort of bondage takes a special degree of trust and training. If they aren’t partners, then she’s been topped by somebody skilled in shibari before and he's studied it as well. It’s an art form, one that takes practice on both sides.” He gave me a curious look. “You want to try it.”
“Well…” I was squirming now.
He cupped my face, not letting me look away. “What is it, Aleena?”
“It…” I blew out a breath. “Did you see her face? It was like she was somewhere else entirely. Only those two existed.”
“For her, at that moment, it was just her and just him.”
I still couldn't move my head, but I lowered my eyes. “I've felt that before. With us.”
His fingers twitched on my cheeks.
“But it looked like...more. To be able to get that way with all those people...”
Dominic's voice was soft. “She gave herself over to him entirely. There was no doubt, not in him or in herself.” He brushed his thumb across my bottom lip. “You've called me on holding back personally, but I think you've been holding back sexually.”
I jerked my head up at that. “I...the things I've let you...I mean...”
His expression was serious. “That's what I mean. The things you've let me do to you? You're still ashamed of what you enjoy.”
His word choice hit me. I'd accused him of being ashamed of me, but I'd never once considered that I was really the one ashamed. Not of him or of being with him. Not even of what we did, but rather the fact that I enjoyed it. All of it. I enjoyed him spanking me, using a flogger, restraining me. I loved the way he fucked me, the way he made love to me. How his cock felt in my pussy...in my ass.
“Aleena, darling.”
His voice brought me back to him.
“Let go.”
As I nodded, I felt as if something had broken free. Relief flooded through me. I didn't have to be ashamed of what I wanted, what I liked. I was safe with him.
He dropped his hands from my face, reaching down to lace his fingers between mine. “Now, be honest, do you want to be bound like that? It’s something that has to be learned.”
I thought about it, thought about how the ropes caught her breasts, ran between her thighs. I was tempted to say yes. “Do you know how?”
“No.” He squeezed my hands. “Like I said, it’s an art form. It takes practice. I know people who practice and it can be learned. I'll learn it, if that’s something you want.”
“I…” Blowing out a breath, I shook my head. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”
He nodded. “We'll put it aside for now then.” He let go of one of my hands and curled his hand around the back of my neck. “But I don't ever want you to feel like you have to be embarrassed to ask for something you want.”
I smiled as I turned my head and kissed his wrist.
“Are you ready for something new though?”
I nodded and he turned me to face the pole, his body a hard, warm presence behind me.
“I do know my way around ropes, Aleena.”
He hadn’t lied.
He’d handcuffed me before, used various types of cloth to tie up my hands and legs. Nothing as elaborate as the shibari we’d witnessed on stage, but I knew the feel of restraints against my skin.
But this was different.
My hands were tied to the pole rather than to each other, the right just an inch above the left, with just enough give that I could hold on to the cool metal. When he'd done that, I’d thought that would be it, but it wasn’t. He’d taken my left ankle and brought it up, tying it to my thigh, leaving me precariously perched on one foot. He wasn't finished even then. He pulled my left leg to the side, somehow fastening the rope to the pole in such a way that it left me exposed.
“You know the nice thing about the VIP rooms?” he asked as he finished checking my bonds.
I shook my head.
“They offer a selection of new tools, new toys, and anything I like, I can take home. There’s a crop here I’m going to try on you, Aleena. Would you like that?”
“Yes, sir.”
I gasped when he brought it down on my butt a moment later, sending a streak of pain through me. It was intense, a hot lick of flame up across my flesh. He repeated it, lower along my thigh, a lighter blow but still enough to burn. When he reached my ass again, he plied the crop with more force and I was whimpering by the time he stopped.
“What do you think? Should we keep it? Or try something else?”
Panting, I pressed my head to the pole. My ass felt like it was on fire. I could still feel each stroke.
“We’ll try something else.”
There was a pause, and then another type of pain. I heard the crack before I felt the heat bloom across my already sore ass. I cried out, my back arching as I fought my body's natural instinct to turn away.
“This is a paddle.” He paused and came up behind me, stroking a hand up my back. “You remember your word, Aleena?”
“Please…Dominic, please…”
“Do you remember?” He demanded it now.
“Yes!”
“Good.”
The next few minutes bled together, a hot miasma of pain, followed by a rush of relief that left me feeling like I was just going to drift away. He alternated between using the paddle on my ass and trading it out for the crop, which he used on my butt and thighs. Between my thighs. The first strike with the crop against my pussy sent me screaming into a nearly painful orgasm. As I came, I panted and begged for more in one breath, then in the next, I pleaded with him to stop.
He didn’t though, timing his hits so that just as my climax was fading, he pushed me into another, this one even more intense than the last.
I wasn't sure at what point he released me, only that the ropes were gone and he was massaging my ankle and then my wrists as he held me up. Everything felt so surreal, but all that mattered was the stark, hungry look on his face.
He kissed me, hard, his tongue demanding as he plundered my mouth. His hands tightened around me until I knew I'd be bruised, but I didn't care. Then, suddenly, he was straightening, leading me somewhere. I barely registered that it was a table, only that he was bending me over it. The wood was cold against my hard nipples and I shivered.
“Hands,” he ordered.
I obeyed and in short order, my hands were tied behind my back, forcing me to lay with my chest and cheek against the table.
“You’ve been a good girl, Aleena.” His fingers brushed my hair out of my face. “I’m going to reward you now. Would you like that?”
“Yes, sir.”
He buried himself inside me, no teasing, no warning. Just one hard, fast stroke. Even as I was still crying out from the sudden intrusion, he was pulling out and slamming forward again. He pounded into me, relentless, each stroke deeper than the last. The pressure inside me was building quickly, but as I tensed, my body ready for the next stroke to push me over the edge, he stopped.
He pulled out completely and I shuddered, trembling, clamping my thighs together against the ache of unfulfilled release. I felt so empty that I almost wanted to cry.
When he touched me again, I jumped. His fingers were cold.
“Relax, baby.”
He slid his finger inside my ass and I gasped at the sharp burn. Biting my lip to keep back the whimpers, I tried to twist away. He brought down his hand on my left c
heek and I made a pained sound, but I stopped trying to get away. When he added a second finger, I moaned but forced myself to take it. I closed my eyes, absorbing the sensations of his fingers twisting inside me, preparing me. I let the sound of his voice wash over me.
“That's it, baby. Just like that. Get ready to take my cock. So beautiful like this.”
His hand caressed my ass and I shuddered. Between the paddle and the crop, my skin was so sensitive that the slightest touch made my nerves sing.
“Ready?”
I nodded, unable to speak.
When he started to push his cock inside me, I jerked against the ropes holding me and twisted, shuddering in need, shaking with mixed pain and pleasure. He kept his rhythm slow, working past the muscle, teasing it into relaxing. I whimpered as the pain tried to swallow me.
He spanked me three times in quick succession. When he did it a fourth time, I cried and twisted, forcing myself all the way back on him. He grunted as he filled me. I gasped.
He slid out and I tried to pull away, briefly wondering if I should use my safe word. No. I would trust him to know what I could take. I closed my eyes and completely gave myself over to him.
He fisted a hand in my hair and yanked, forcing my head back, my body bent at a nearly impossible angle. As he rode me, his free hand slid around to my breast and he took my nipple between his thumb and finger. He pinched and twisted and I came.
I screamed his name and I heard him swear even as I felt him come, his cock pulsing in my ass, throbbing in time with my own body.
Exhausted didn't even begin to cover how I felt. I couldn’t even lift my head.
We were on the bed and I had no memory of getting here. My cheek was on Dominic's chest and I could hear the steady beating of his heart. I wanted to look at him, needed to see his face.
I tried to raise my head and groaned.
“Stop,” he said, his hand pressing my head back down. “Your body needs rest.”
“What the hell was that?” I mumbled.
“You got your first glimpse at what some people call subspace.”
I rolled my eyes up toward him.
He combed his fingers through my hair. It was a mess. I couldn’t see it, but I knew. And I didn't care. The expression in his eyes was a lambent, happy one. Funny. A few weeks ago, I would have expected him to look smug after he practically screwed me into catatonia. Now, though, he just looked sated. Like a big cat.
“Subspace?”
“Hmmm.” He shifted, bringing my body more upright. Then he rubbed his cheek against mine, again reminding me of a cat. “It’s brought on by a rush of endorphins, adrenaline. Pain brings on endorphins and adrenaline. Then it drains away.” He kissed the top of my head. “That's what happened on the stage.”
Oh.
“You finally let yourself go completely.” He sounded pleased...and happy. Genuinely happy.
I was glad he was happy and sure that if I thought about it, I'd be able to understand the whole subspace thing. If I could think. But I couldn't right then and I really didn't want to.
“Thinking’s overrated,” I announced, snuggling closer to him. He felt really, really good.
He might have laughed.
I didn’t know and I didn’t care.
I was so blissed out and happy, I didn’t care about anything but staying right there.
Who knew that letting go could feel so good?
10
Aleena
I popped a grape tomato in my mouth and hummed under my breath. “More of these,” I told Francisco. “Whatever you’re getting, it has to involve more of these.”
He laughed. “I’ll get more at the farmer’s market tomorrow, okay?”
The doorbell rang but before I could get up to get it, I heard Dominic rising. He’d elected to work home today and I could tell Francisco had been amused by the two of us.
It had been a week since we’d gone to Olympus, a week of pure bliss. We'd fought through our demons and knew where we stood with each other. It was almost perfect.
Except for one thing that kept hovering in the background.
Rising from the chair, I moved over to the doorway and watched as Dominic ushered Kowalski in.
“We’ll be in the office,” Dominic said, his gaze flicking toward the kitchen.
“Do you want me to bring in coffee or anything?” I asked.
Dominic glanced at the investigator, but the man just shook his head. He didn’t have good news and my heart twisted painfully. I could almost feel Dominic's disappointment.
“No,” he said. “We'll be fine.”
As the two of them disappeared, I turned back to the kitchen and settled back down on the seat, forcing myself to smile as I looked at Francisco even though my thoughts were down the hall. We were quiet as Francisco jotted down a few notes and then passed them to me. I looked over the menu and shrugged, not as interested in food as I had been a few minutes ago.
“Miss Aleena.”
“Aleena.” I made a face. “Please. This Miss Aleena crap is so archaic.”
Francisco chuckled, but there wasn't really any joy in it. “Archaic.” He nodded slowly. “You know, I know of some archaic things that might interest you.” His gaze flicked in the direction of the hall. “My family, for one. Do you know we’ve worked for the Snows for going on four generations now?”
“That’s not...well, yeah, I guess it would be archaic.” I tipped my glass of water toward him with a half-smile.
He chuckled and leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. “When you come from a family like mine, you grow up understanding certain rules. There are things that are done and things that aren’t. One thing that is not done, is you do not talk about the family with outsiders.”
He shrugged and studied his nails in a manner that was so patently nonchalant that it told me what he was saying was anything but casual.
“Now you might gossip with members of the staff, with those who work for other families even. But you will not chat with anybody outside the loop. Even years later.” He smiled as he lifted his gaze to me. “It’s just not done.”
I narrowed my eyes as he glanced toward the office again. Okay? What was he trying to tell me?
“Unless, of course, somebody,” he continued. “The right somebody, asked the right way.”
“Francisco—”
“My grandfather worked for Mr. and Mrs. Snow back when they first brought Mr. Dominic home,” he said, changing the subject so fast I almost got whiplash. He shoved off the counter and walked over to the refrigerator to check on supplies he’d already checked. “Grandfather talked about what a pretty baby he was. Fussy though. Sick and pretty small.”
I slid off the stool and gripped the table, staring at the back of Francisco’s averted head. Any other time, I would've been fascinated to hear about Dominic as a child, but I was focusing on the more important part of what Francisco had said. “Your grandfather?” My voice was level and calm.
“Yes.” Mild eyes met mine and once more, he smiled. “He’s retired now. Lives down near Atlantic City. Gambles a lot. Flirts with women. I go see him every other weekend. He’d talk a man’s ear off. He called me last night, told me about a visitor he had. A skinny man with glasses. Grandfather couldn’t wait to remind me about all those rules a family like mine has, Miss Aleena.” He sighed then and shook his head. “He always did like Mr. Dominic though.”
I jumped off the stool and walked to the office as fast as I could without actually running. Both men turned to look at me when I burst through the doors.
“Did you go and see…” I wracked my head for Francisco’s last name and couldn’t think of it. Growling in frustration, I looked at Dominic. “Francisco’s grandfather. You know him?”
Confused, Dominic stood up. “Yeah. Antonio.” He sucked in a breath, his eyes widening. “Is something—?”
“He’s fine.” I made a dismissive motion and pointed at Kowalski. “Did you talk to an old guy named Antonio?
”
Kowalski rocked back on his heels, tucking his hands into the pockets of a pair of worn, faded corduroys. His expression gave nothing away. “It’s possible I did. I’m afraid I haven’t learned much, though. I—”
“They aren’t going to tell you anything.” I walked across the room and grabbed Dominic’s hand. “Come on!”
He stared at me, still clearly confused, but he let me pull him up. He followed me out, Kowalski trailing along behind us.
Francisco was waiting for us in the living room, seated.
There was a neat tray of hors d’oeuvres on the table. Nothing fancy, but the man did work fast. He folded his hands and met Dominic’s gaze as he lowered himself to the couch, eying the chef narrowly.
“Just what is this?” Dominic asked.
Francisco looked at me and I nodded.
“Mr. Dominic,” Francisco said softly. “I think you should talk to my grandfather. You, not an investigator.”
“About what?” Dominic’s voice was flat and hard and I saw the flicker of anger in his eyes. I knew how much he valued his privacy.
Before Francisco had to explain, I laid a hand on Dominic’s thigh. “He talks to his grandfather all the time, baby. Kowalski was just out there and Francisco talked to Antonio last night. What do you think you should talk to him about?”
Dominic looked over at Kowalski.
Francisco bowed his head, but not before I caught a glimpse of his face. He had known before.
“Why do I need to talk to Antonio?” Dominic said quietly.
“Because he knows things that he isn’t going to tell somebody outside the family,” Francisco said softly. “I don’t know if he has answers, but he could point you the right direction.”
11
Dominic
Antonio Salvatore had the wrinkled, leathery skin of a man who’d seen a lot of years. He also had the wide, easy smile of a man who’d spent a lot of those years laughing.
As he sat rocking on the chair, he looked at me with eyes that held no hint of the laughter though.