Her Once And Future Dom (Club Volare Book 11)

by Chloe Cox

  “Follow me,” he said.

  He led her in silence up the stairs, to a room at the end of the second floor. It was a room they’d been in before, but only as observers.

  “Holt,” she said behind him, and he stopped.

  She was looking up at him with those big eyes, brave and vulnerable all at once. The magic of a sub.

  “Do you think this will work?” she said.

  “One more scene,” he said. “And then we decide what to do from there.”

  Instinctively, he reached out to touch her. He threaded his fingers through her hair, brushed her cheek with his thumb. She shuddered and sighed.

  She said, “It always was easier to talk when we…”

  “I know,” he said. “Safe word’s the same. Do you consent?”

  Simone licked her lips, and nodded. “Yes,” she said.

  He opened the door, and turned on the lights.

  It was exactly as he’d instructed. The intimate binding he would do himself, but he’d wanted some of the rigging pre-assembled, and there were only a few people he trusted to do something like that. Even so, he’d spend a few minutes going over it, just to make sure. Holt wouldn’t take chances with Simone’s safety.

  Which was why he turned to watch her reaction.

  He could see it bloom on her face. It was fucking beautiful. Simone always felt most free when she was bound, but there were things she’d never been able to try. Shibari rope suspension was one of them. Something about the totality of it edged her towards overwhelmed, and Holt had needed to learn how to do it safely. And before he could, they’d broken up.

  He’d been studying since then.

  “Is that what I think it is?” she said. Her cheeks were already flushed.

  Holt didn’t answer her. She was chattering, stalling, because of how much uncertainty still existed between them. He understood. But he also knew the only way she was going to get to a place where she could talk was if she was up in the air.

  Instead he closed the door behind her.

  He picked up one long, smooth coil of soft rope.

  And slowly, softly, he brushed it against her cheek. Simone shivered.

  “Strip,” he ordered.

  Simone knew rope shouldn’t be able to shock her, but somehow, when it touched her skin, a current ran through her.

  Her heart thundered in her chest, but she could feel it between her legs. That driving rhythm. That immediate desire. She could feel her thoughts, racing at a mile a minute, beginning to fade. Part of her thought it was insane to do this, to have a Relationship Talk like this, especially when twenty minutes earlier she didn’t think there was any relationship left to talk about. She hadn’t wanted to let herself hope for that much, and now she was standing in a rigging room at Club Volare with the love of her life and hope burning bright in the middle of her heart. And the parts of her that weren’t on fire were trying desperately to put that freaking fire out before she got her heart broken again.

  And there was Holt. Holt, and the rope.

  So it was insane, but it was also right. This was who she was. Who they were. Holt was the only person in the world who knew her well enough to know that she would need this to be truly vulnerable, truly honest, even with herself. He’d known before she did. And he’d given it to her.

  And he’d asked her to strip.

  Simone looked up at him with new eyes. Clear eyes. And she began to unbutton.

  She watched her fingers as she undid each button. Saw her chest moving, her fingers shaking. She hadn’t known what to wear to a conversation like this, so she’d gone with a casual but sexy but still plausibly deniable romper and heels. Which meant there wasn’t much to take off before she was completely naked. And still, with every button, she could feel her defenses slipping away.

  The romper fell to her ankles, then her underwear. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Without being asked, she stepped out of the heels, and looked up.

  Holt’s eyes left a trail of heat on her exposed skin. When his eyes met hers, her knees almost buckled. Such a simple, stupid thing, and she was almost on her knees.

  He smiled.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured, and stepped forward. Just that movement was enough to startle her. She was so turned on she was almost jumping out of her skin, her body twitching here and there with excess energy, with the need to be touched. It had come on so strong, so quickly, she didn’t have a handle on it. Couldn’t ride it.

  Holt put his big hand on her chest, above her heart, and she melted into it.

  Her heart was beating even faster, but her body calm while the pressure built inside of her. How did he do that? How did he bring her to ground, to rein, so—

  His hand moved.

  Simone let out a small moan as Holt let his hands rove over her body, his eyes on hers the entire time. Cupping her breasts, rolling her nipples in his fingers, smoothing his hand down her fluttering stomach, slipping his fingers between her legs to dip them into her wetness. Like he was surveying his territory. Reminding her who was in charge.

  The longer she looked into his eyes, the more heat pooled in her core. The more she was filled with naked, desperate need. The more layers fell away.

  She was shaking. He’d barely touched her, and she was shaking. Holt smiled again, took her hand, and this time put it on his chest, over his heart.

  The strong, steady rhythm held her. She wanted to cry. She wanted to move. She wanted him to fuck her, to bring her over the edge, because balancing on this precipice was too much.

  “Holt,” she whispered.

  He didn’t answer. Just lead her to the center of the room, below a set of ropes rigged in some way that they were hanging from the ceiling. Simone looked up, entranced by the way they slowly twisted in the air, and was blindsided when the end of a rope flicked her in the nipple.

  She cried out, softly, and Holt chuckled.

  And then the tying began.

  Simone didn’t know how long she stood there, under the rigging, while he tied her. She was mesmerized by the way Holt moved, the easy, confident athleticism of it. It was probably something Holt didn’t even notice, but to Simone it was hypnotic; the sheer effortless command he had over his own body reminded her of how easily he commanded hers.

  And then there was the rope. The slide of it across her skin as he teased her with it, the gentle pull as he tied it, the pressure as every new knot pressed into her flesh. With each knot, she was more and more restrained. With each knot, she slid a little further away from the messiness of the world, and a little more into subspace.

  With each knot, she shed another layer of armor.

  By the time her arms were tied behind her, bound at the wrists and to her waist, the rope wrapped around her in a pretty pattern that framed her breasts, she could barely hear anything over the roar of the pulse in her ears. Couldn’t think over the swells of sensation. Couldn’t see anything—but him.

  Holt.

  He stopped and took a step back to admire his handiwork, and Simone’s chest rose and fell with a deep, shuddering breath. She already felt so exposed. Her nipples had hardened to peaks ages ago, and even though she was bound, her body strained against the rope with anticipation. She could feel wetness spreading on her thighs.

  Suddenly Holt came forward, his arm wrapping around her to find her hands bound at her back, his hard, clothed body pressed against her naked flesh as he claimed her with another kiss. Simone groaned, rising on her tiptoes to meet him, pressing her hips forward.

  There was a smile on Holt’s lips as he pulled away.

  “Greedy little sub,” he chuckled. Then the smile was gone. “Stay,” he said.

  It was an order.

  Simone froze to the spot automatically. The only thing that moved were her eyes as she followed Holt while he circled her like an apex predator, like something that ruled the wild, tying her with more rope, passing it between her legs, around her thighs, her butt, her waist. Her heart thudded in her chest as she realiz
ed what he was doing.

  Making a harness.

  She strained against her binds, and realized that the more he tied, the less she could move. It wasn’t like the restraint of cuffs, or even a spreader bar, where her range of motion was restricted, but not eliminated. In cuffs she could still react. But with rope…

  He was slowly removing her ability to react. To resist. Slowly, inexorably, demanding her full surrender.

  Just as she realized that, Holt stood in front of her, his big hands wrapped around two ropes that extended up to the pulleys bolted into the ceiling. Then he began to pull.

  And Simone began to rise, her weight distributed between ropes that ran across her back in a netting pattern and the harness at her hips. He could control her orientation in the air with the two ropes he held in his hands, and he manipulated her until she was floating, face up, reclining slightly, her legs dangling in front of her, scrabbling for purchase.

  Holt grinned.

  “Those are mine, too,” he said, and began to tie one of her legs, then the other, in quick, beautiful, efficient knots. He bent her legs as he tied them, and ran them through another support so that her weight was distributed evenly.

  Pretty soon she was completely suspended in the air, her arms bound behind her, her legs bound in front of her. All he would have to do was spread her legs, and she’d be completely open, vulnerable, exposed. Unable to move. Unable to resist.

  The thought rippled through her body.

  “Now,” Holt said. “Are you listening, little sub?”

  Simone laughed softly, her own giddiness surprising her. Was she listening? The whole world had fallen away until all that was in it was him.

  “Yes,” she said. “Oh God, yes.”

  She had let her head fall back, her eyes tracking the ropes that suspended her. Now she felt his hand cradle her face before threading through her hair at the back of her head, and he fisted it, sharply, before bringing her to face him as he stood in front of her.

  “Look at me,” he said.

  She did.

  It was almost too much.

  Simone sucked in air and forced herself to stay with him. To not run from the connection.

  “Listen carefully, little sub,” Holt said, his eyes holding hers. “You’re the bravest damn woman I know, whether you know it or not. So I know you’re not going to run from what you see. And the truth is we love each other so much that it’s like goddamn a spotlight shining on everything. And when you turn a light on something you’ve kept in darkness your whole life, you’re going to find a mess. Both of us found a mess. So we can fix it up together.”

  His words hung in the air like the deep ringing notes from a great big bell. They focused her mind and her body into a single glowing point that expanded from her heart until it enveloped her whole body. Simone felt herself melt completely into the ropes, so much so that she hadn’t realized she was still, on some level fighting them. It was like putting down a weight she hadn’t known she was carrying.

  She hung there, weightless, full of light, and smiled. Now there really were no barriers between them. The last of her armor burned away. Nothing keeping her from feeling how much she loved the Dom who had her in his hands.

  “Good,” Holt said. “Now you’re ready.”

  With his free hand, Holt began to pull on another rope, wrapping the slack around his hand with every stroke. A jolt of arousal raced through her as she felt the ropes that suspended her bound legs begin to tighten, until they had slowly, steadily spread her legs. Holt stepped between them, holding the rope in one hand and fisting Simone’s hair at the nape of her neck with the other. He tied the rope off, holding her there like that, and looked down with a hungry hiss of breath.

  She could feel the cool air on her wet pussy, and for a second she fought the rope again, wanting, needing to be touched. Holt watched her coolly until she melted back into submission, her eyes glazed with arousal.

  She was bare.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the blackmail?” he demanded.

  Simone swallowed, and felt tears gather on her eyelashes.

  “Say it,” Holt commanded.

  “I was ashamed,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “You would see who I really am, and…”

  “And what, Simone?”

  “And not want me anymore,” she said. “Not love me.”

  As she said it, she realized how ridiculous it was, objectively. Holt had admitted to a mistake, and she’d loved him more for it. She blinked away tears, and focused again on Holt.

  He nodded.

  “Because that’s what I taught you,” he said. “Because I hadn’t become the man who deserved you yet. But you changed that. You made me better. So listen very carefully to what I have to say next.”

  Holt maintained eye contact as he clipped the rope hold her legs apart to his belt. As he freed his cock. As he nestled the swollen, purple head between her folds, putting enough pressure on her entrance to make her moan.

  He had her attention.

  “You can’t lose me even if you try, Simone. I’ve seen the things you’re most ashamed of, and I love you more for it. I’m not going anywhere. I won’t go back to being the man I was before you showed me how to be better. And I’m never going to stop loving you, no matter what you do. And don’t you ever fucking forget it. Understood?”

  Simone blinked, and this time the tears spilled over, racing back across her temples and down her neck. She had never, in her entire life, been as naked as she was at this moment. Every single part of her was on display, even the things she was most ashamed of. There was nothing left that was hidden. Nothing left to keep a secret. Holt’s gaze burned the last of her shame away, and what was left was a warmth that spread through her, over her, inside her, when she realized that, for the first time in her life, she believed someone when they said they loved her.

  A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Holt’s face as he stood, perfectly still, not breaking her gaze. Muscles twitching, just often enough to remind her of his strength, and of his awesome control. And of how much he wanted her.

  “Understood,” she said.

  Holt saw everything. He saw every twitch of muscle, every micro expression, every shift of emotion. This was the moment. This was when he would know that Simone was ready. That they were ready.

  His balls hurt, his cock screamed for relief. Every muscle in his body demanded that he bury himself inside her, that he come inside her, that he claim her body for the rest of time.

  But his sub needed more.

  “Look at me,” he rasped. They were so close. She was completely open, completely vulnerable. He loved her like this. He loved her always.

  Her breathing was deep, almost meditative. It matched his. He had never been this deep in a scene with anyone. It was place no one would ever intrude on. It was theirs. He would keep it that way.

  “One final question,” he said.

  She nodded.

  “You are mine,” he said. “Mine to care for, mine to cherish, mine to love, and mine to punish when you hide things from me. Mine. I want you for the rest of our lives, Simone, and in return I will be the man you deserve. You just have to say yes.”

  Holt watched her chest strained against the rope as she sighed. Watched her eyes soften. Watched her mouth smile.

  Felt his heart swell as she said, in a strong, clear voice, “Yes.”

  Searing heat sparked over his skin as he heard the word. He took one more look. He wanted to remember her like this for the rest of his life. Both strong and soft, vulnerable and brave. His submissive.

  Holt moved slowly, so slowly it hurt him. So slowly he ached with every second, so slowly his muscles burned and the sweat gathered on his brow. He held her eyes as he slid inside her, inch by inch, and knew that making her come, caring for her, this woman who was strong in her softness, made him whole.

  “Mine,” he said, and pulled her hips as he thrust the last inch, burying himself in her to the hil
t while she contracted around him.

  “Mine,” she whispered back, and Holt smiled.

  Then he fucked them both to oblivion and back, knowing he would be that man she could trust, because Simone was the light that showed him the way. And he was never going to let her go again.

  Epilogue

  Holt was as surprised as anybody by the pop-up wedding, but he supposed that was the point. Looking around during the ceremony, he could see a few other Doms and at least one Domme who were getting pointed looks from their subs. Simone, on the other hand, just held on to his arm even tighter, absorbed in watching her friends’ happiness.

  Little did she know what was coming.

  It had started out as just another summer night at Club Volare. Which meant something unlike a summer night anywhere else—even though things were just warming up, Gavin and Luke had brought a few rigs out into the garden for some public scenes, and most people were wearing significantly less clothing than they would at a garden party. Holt himself had had plans for that spanking bench when Luke started clinking on a wine glass to get everybody’s attention.

  It didn’t take long. Whatever was happening was unusual. Especially since Charlene was standing next to Luke, looking nervous as hell while also glowing like a lantern.

  Simone leaned on Holt’s arm while her whole body came to attention as she looked at her friends. Holt felt her soft warmth against his body and suppressed a growl. It would probably be a dick move to steal Luke’s limelight by carrying Simone off to a private room at that exact moment. Holt could wait.

  For a time.

  “Everybody,” Luke said, his voice carrying without effort. He looked at Charlene, and for a second a look of love and lust passed over his face. It was the upside-down devotion of a Dom. Holt might not have recognized it a year ago, but now he knew it well.

  “My sub here has something she wants to say,” Luke went on. He was grinning now. Charlene looked nervous, and like she wouldn’t stop smiling for love or money.

  “Um, to explain, really,” Charlene said, and Luke wrapped his arm around her. “It’s just that I know some of you were wondering when we were going to make everything official, and I know you all are looking forward to a big party and the whole deal—”