Roulette

by Sophie Haas

  Wells continued; everything he said was making the room hot and me nauseous. “He was and it was. He wasn’t just your shitty, irresponsible Dom either. That man fucked up more than you. I told you in the car, domination and submission isn’t about fucking. It isn’t about what goes on in your cunt.” He rested his elbows on his knees, that dark honey colour hard with the intensity with which he spoke. “We’re going to settle this between us once and for all. I’m too fucking old to deal with tantrums.”

  To even consider Jack my Dom wasn’t just preposterous, it was hurtful. Wells was effectively turning everything he had done to me to ash: burnt remnants of what had been amazing for me. I glared at him, hating him in this moment.

  He leaned towards me. “Think very carefully about what is about to come out of your mouth, little girl. I don’t punish with spankings or paddles. I don’t tie you up or make naughty girls sit in a corner. I will put my fingers in your cunt and show you just how much control I have over those orgasms. They’ll start off fun until tears and snot are dripping from your face and cum is dripping from your aching, quivering cunt. I will turn pleasure on you so fast you will beg me to stop. I won’t. Not until every inch of you is hurting and you know exactly what earning my punishment entails. So if you utter those words lurking in those dark eyes, I will show you what telling me to fuck myself really means.”

  We stared at each other. Me glaring, him with that cold, hated look. I really, really wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. I really did. It burned on my tongue. “Get the fuck out,” I said instead. Everything was starting to hurt. My heart was being squeezed, it was hard to breathe and I was pretty sure I was about to puke all over the both of us.

  He thought Jack was my Dom?

  He thought we did what...Wells did to me?

  “I take domination very seriously, Amy. I take dominating you very seriously. I take submission very seriously. I take your submission very seriously.”

  I clamped my hands over my ears so I didn’t have to hear him. “Get out, get out, get out.” I hated the tears that slipped out. He was systematically destroying me with every poisonous dart he spoke.

  I knew he was cruel. You didn’t spend time around the Big Dog without knowing his teeth. But this...this was so much more than cruelty.

  He was still sitting there. Waiting. For what? Me to start bleeding where he had torn into me? I was. “Get out,” I whispered, closing my eyes so I didn’t have to look at the man who had both given me my heart’s desire then ripped out my heart, crushing it between sharp claws. He wasn’t leaving. The scream came from the bloody wound he had just delivered: “Get out! Get out of my fucking house!”

  I crawled away from him and at the brush of fingers on my ankle, I kicked out. I felt my foot connect, heard his swear but I didn’t look back.

  I slammed the bathroom door, locking it then sank down to my knees, my hands on my ears, whispering to the tiles for him to get out. A fist thumped on the door along with my name barked out. I shuddered but didn’t move.

  I couldn’t.

  He thought that I had done all that with Jack?

  What kind of a horrible person was he? And he had fucked me. Repeatedly. A moan slipped free with the realization that he had come inside me. I wanted to wash Wells away: every touch, every ghost of a demand, and the feel of him inside my body.

  Escape.

  It was the only word my brain thought as I headed out of the city. Escape my house, escape my life, escape the memories, escape my thoughts, escape my truths, escape Wells. Escape.

  With the radio blaring the top twenty, I sang along as I followed the route I hadn’t taken in years. If I was singing, I couldn’t think. I couldn’t rehash Wellsley’s words. So I sang. I sang my fucking heart out even as tears dripped from my chin to my shirt.

  When I was fifteen, the Dog Pound decided they needed a place to retreat that was all theirs. With a shit ton of money, they bought up land around a lake. I seem to recall someone had already had a cabin there until Wells had offered a lot of cash, an amount no sane person would turn down. Everyone had their own plot of land where they had built a house. Jack had even bought a plot of land for me though I hadn’t gotten around to contemplating my lake house.

  And now I had Jack’s.

  I hadn’t been to the lake since I was seventeen.

  Reaching over, I turned up the radio. As if that had the power to stop me thinking about why. Other seventeen year olds lost their virginity. Mine just happened to be when I was tied to a marble statue with the Dog Pound’s Big Dog standing between my legs. No soft kisses and gentle groping for me. Just mind-bending, life changing bondage and domination.

  My hands tightened on the steering wheel. What that man could do with one touch, one look...one word. No one’s sexual awakening should entail what mine had. Because you’re not just forever chasing the high that had come from being in Wells’s ropes, you’re forever fearing the fallout.

  Where he sent me with those ropes I called the quiet. All my life I sought to feel safe and secure. I found that in Wells’s lake house. Then the quiet had cracked open and reality had slammed me down to earth. Suddenly I was lost and alone. I had avoided Wells for almost a year and hadn’t gone back to the lake. Jack had declared hiding from Wells was bullshit and not allowed.

  I didn’t let myself be alone with him. Even now he could give me a look that sent everything spinning and vibrating. Chaos and peace were found in those light brown eyes. The fantasies I had of what he could do to me...

  And I’ve been chasing that for years.

  That’s why Four terrified and aroused me. He had known. He had known exactly what was needed to send me to the quiet. Once again I wondered who he was. I couldn’t see Wells using words because all he had to do was look at me and I’d be in that bedroom. That one look that made my cunt go soft and my mind go quiet.

  He’d given me that look a handful of times over the years. The first time had been after I had stopped avoiding him. Everyone had been at Lash’s and I had been nervous and scared. I had walked in, my eyes going everywhere but at the man I wasn’t allowed to avoid anymore. I don’t know how long he had been watching me. Maybe the entire time, but finally I glanced at him and I couldn’t look away.

  He never said a word to me. Not one word. I didn’t know why under his stare everything seemed to even out. Not at the time. Now I can say it’s because he’s a motherfucking Dom.

  By the end of the night I had been a quivering, needy mess with my bathing suit bottoms soaked, my skin tingling and everything yearning for him to take me over and take me under. As if he had known I was unraveling, he had gripped the back of my neck. One touch.

  One fucking touch had me coming while the quiet wrapped around me.

  There are no orgasms like the ones in the quiet. Not even Four’s leather cuffs made me climax like the ones when I’m in subspace and since Wells is the only who has successfully put me there, I was pretty much fucked.

  God, stop thinking about him. Stop thinking about him.

  The asshole.

  The fucking asshole.

  So much for not thinking about what kept me away from the lake. I was obsessing over it.

  Again.

  I needed to stop thinking about Wells. Granted, I’d rather think about him then what was waiting for me at the lake.

  Absolutely nothing and no one.

  I sighed as I reached over to fiddle with the radio station, tired of the latest and greatest pop music. I settled on a classic rock station.

  Classic rock always made me think of Jack. The two of us in his 1970 lime green Barracuda, his foot on the gas and music so loud I felt it in my belly as we drove to the lake. He loved coming out here. He said it was the one place he could be Jack. He never explained to me what that meant. It wasn’t like his life was overly stressful. He’d spend the majority of his summer up at the lake. I barely saw him in that season. It wasn’t like I could whine about it because avoiding the lake was my deci
sion.

  As an escape location, this was pretty dumb.

  I stopped at the sketchy gas bar that was even worse now to top up and grab a cold cola from the decrepit looking machine while the gas attendant leered.

  Once I paid, I was on my way.

  The final leg to Jack’s lake.

  My phone became my music source once the static became too annoying. I passed the road that would’ve taken me to the Miranda, one of the more popular Darling Hotels. It was big and beautiful, reminding me of all those eighteenth century hotels that were massive and glamorous. How tempting it was to turn down that road instead of the one on the other side of two lane highway. Did I really want to go to a Darling Hotel though? Really?

  As I drove by the first private property sign, I turned off the music and rolled down the window. At the gate, I dug out the key.

  The air was sweeter here, the silence more absolute. The road forked to the left and right, either would get me to where I was going. I went left – right would get me to Jack’s a little bit faster. The first house I passed was Patrice’s adorable little house with its screened outdoor living space that was on the water. The house always confused me because it so wasn’t how I pictured her. Something a lot more pink and frivolous I guess.

  From here the houses circled the small lake: Patrice, X, Torr, Jere, Wells, Five, Jack, my empty plot, Kendra, and Lash. When the houses went up, Kendra and Lash hadn’t hooked up. I don’t exactly remember when they became a thing, just that they were.

  When the land had been purchased they had renamed the lake to, not surprising, Dog Pound Lake. They were consistent, I’d give them that much.

  Finally there was nowhere to go unless I returned home and to the memories. Numbness spread through my body as I stopped at the garage door. Clutching Jack’s keys, I walked along the side of the house. The crystal clarity of the lake was blinding. Docks spidered out from each house. Patrice’s had an adorable little building off hers, again so at odds with who she was. Someone was on the lake, a rubber dingy floated not far from Jere’s dock, a rope rippling in the water where it held him in place. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed that someone else was here.

  The front of the A-frame was all windows and it looked so abandoned. Nothing said Jack was never coming back like this empty shell of a house. Wrapping my arms over my chest, I took a cautious step to the door. The front had two doors but I so wasn’t ready for the one in his bedroom. Not yet.

  Maybe never.

  I could do this. I would do this.

  Battling the need to runaway, I fumbled for the door key. If I ran away from here, I had nowhere to go. There was Dad’s but then he’d ask me what was wrong. Everything was fucking wrong but nothing I wanted to talk about.

  The door finally swung open. The first thing to greet me was the giant grizzly frozen for eternity in mid-roar.

  I snapped.

  I felt the disconnect happen deep inside me as I looked at the hideous creature Jack had thought was amazing. I screamed, and in a tantrum that Wells had said he wouldn’t tolerate, I attacked that poor dead bear. I punched. I kicked. Without a roar or growl, he fell. I kicked him still then began to pull him out. Stupid bear. Stupid, stupid bear.

  Dumb, fucking dead bear.

  Dumb, fucking dead Jack.

  Dumb, fucking living Wells.

  Dumb, fucking not really living Amy.

  Fuck every last one of us.

  Chapter 9

  From a distance I felt rope on my skin. The first time I had been tied up had been sensual and erotic. This time it felt like there was a layer of ice between the rope and I. At least Jere and Wells had stopped yelling at each other. I was rising, floating until something cold hit my skin and made me gasp. Opening my eyes I realized I was being tied to Surrender much like I had that fateful day the first time I had stepped into Wells' house.

  Only this time instead of my back to her front, it was my front to her back. My head wasn't tilted up. I was looking at an uncomfortable looking, square chair of black leather and chrome. Finally Wells filled my view as he sank down into the chair, an elbow braced on the flat arm as if he was settling in to watch a show. Too many emotions churned at seeing him here: anger and hurt from what he had said about Jack, anger and hurt that I was the only one with feelings beyond lust. There was also relief. Relief that he was here and I wasn’t alone at this stupid lake where I missed Jack so very, very much. I don’t know what Wells was doing here, because I was pretty sure he hadn’t followed me, but I was grateful he was.

  My gaze began to wander as I realized I was naked, completely naked, wrapped in rope in Wells’s lake house. A finger snapped and I looked back at him. He pointed at his face, a silent order of where my eyes were to be.

  He was wearing a charcoal suit, complete with a vest. Who wore vests? Wellsley Darling. And he wore them well. He looked like a dapper king in his throne studying me. Resting my cheek against the cool marble of Surrender, I let myself watch him back.

  I had to stop denying he was an enigmatic, sexy man capable of anything.

  And everything.

  He had taken my virginity in this very room. Actually, against this very statue. He had tied me up in one of the most erotic moments of my life. Every time he had smoothed his hand over the rope, desire and need constricted within me. Every time he had tightened the rope’s hold on me, tension and pleasure loosened within me. The feeling inside of me...

  I couldn’t describe how it had felt to be tied to this statue while he took me with all that dommy goodness inside of him. No one, not even Four, had felt as good. He had taken me over and taken me under his control. But like the rule of gravity, what goes up, must come down. I had crashed. Hard.

  Brutally.

  I had been way too young to understand anything like domination and submission and bondage. So when my seventeen year old brain crash landed, I pretty much imploded.

  And now here we were. Again.

  Only this time I was completely naked within his ropes. I had missed every moment of him stripping me and binding me.

  Pity.

  He did it so well.

  Was I still hurt and angry? Yes. My recollection of getting here was hazy. I know Jere had shown up in the middle of my tantrum of dead animals. I don’t know when Wells had shown up. I know he had been punched. I know they had shouted. But I didn’t know how I had gotten from Jack’s house to here.

  I inhaled deeply, the lines of the rope pressing into my ribs and squeezing my breasts. My fingers flexed, my hands straining from where they were wrapped together above my ass. My body shifted a smidge to feel the alien sensation of the rope between my buttocks. Wedged between the lips of my pussy was a knot, pressing into the core of me as it had done before. My hips rolled forward so the creamy stone pushed the knot a little deeper. From the knot the rope parted in a tight vee on each side of my clit, squeezing it. My eyes fluttered closed as I rocked my hips back, causing the vee to pinch pleasurably.

  Back and forth, I sawed the rope against sensitive spots until I was wet and swollen, my body so warm that the invisible barrier of ice melted away.

  A snap of fingers had my eyes opening. Dark honey coloured eyes watched me. Something relaxed deep inside of me. The marble grew warm from my body, the quiet room broken by tiny gasps as I worked myself against the rope.

  “Let me know when you’re going to come.”

  The unspoken permission to continue made me cry out. He wore his dominance like he wore his cruelty and his skin: with ease. I tried to work the knot deeper so it was inside me but the man who had put it there was devious. The rope filled the gate of my pussy: an erotic presence that wouldn’t move any deeper. The shallow penetrations were sinfully delicious, like the head of his cock was there, fucking me at his speed until he was good and ready to take me completely.

  I pressed my face into the neck of Surrender to muffle my cry. The memory of being possessed by him swamped me. A girl could drown in that kind of
attention. Then.

  Now.

  Knowing he was there, watching me after wrapping me up in his rope, made me feel like I was drunk. My head spinning as thoughts floated away. The slick binding cinched my swollen clit and the tight squeeze had my hips trying to lift so I could feel it again and again.

  A sharp cry came from me and I felt my pussy relax as it soaked the rope. “Coming,” I whispered into Surrender. I was going to come.

  I felt hands on my rolling ass, felt him do something to the rope and then he was pushing into me.

  I may have screamed as my body strained against the rope, my ass held hostage as he slowly worked his way in. Cum flooded the knot as tight muscles clenched then were ignored as every inch of Wellsley’s cock sank into my ass. He held me as I shuddered and shook from the orgasm then he began to move; slow, shallow thrusts that pushed the knot into my cunt while he slid his cock deep.

  He adjusted the rope and I saw stars as my clit was cinched. Against the back of my hands I felt the silky fabric of his clothes and the realization that he was still dressed was a dizzying erotic one. Every time he sank deep, a soft grunt came from me and every time he eased back, my hips lifted as much as they could to hold him within me.

  When his hand curled around the front of my neck, my brain disengaged. I actually felt it shut down, the world receding so there was only him.

  The knot vanished as he cut the rope, denying me the release. As if those two twined strands were all that had held him back, he began to thrust. There was only his cock now. My head fell forward and my fingers went limp at the realization it was now only Wells fucking me. He pressed my hips down into the statue slick from my cream and with one hand there and the other at my throat, he began to seriously fuck. Hard thrusts that pushed me into the statue.

  Like before.

  I mouthed his name unable to voice anything. The fullness of his cock gliding through tight muscle made me gasp, my pussy squeezing him in an attempt to get him to fuck me harder and faster. He slowly pulled out so just the head of his cock was inside me. His hand cracked down on my ass. The burning sting and sharp smacking sound made my cunt spasm. I cried out because he hadn’t spanked lightly. My skin throbbed where his hand had landed.