[Morgan Kingsley 04] - Speak of the Devil

by Jenna Black

  For the first time, Dom looked dubious. “I’m not sure—”

  “Brian wouldn’t hurt me. Even if you put something awful in the package, he wouldn’t use it. In fact, you should put something awful in there.”

  Dom bit his lip. “Are you sure you don’t want to—”

  I shook my head. “No. I don’t want to know.” I forced a seriously nervous smile. “It’s a demonstration of blind trust.”

  He was silent for so long I thought for sure he was going to refuse.

  “I can always go buy the crap, but you know I can’t afford it. I’ll do it if I have to, but—”

  “All right, all right. At least if I choose the toys, I’ll know it’s the good stuff.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Dom.”

  He grimaced. “I hope you’ll still be thanking me later.” He pushed away from the table.

  “Don’t wimp out on me, okay?”

  He met my eyes steadily. “I won’t,” he promised, and I knew it was the truth.

  Chapter 30

  I’ve faced a lynch mob that tried to burn me at the stake; a sociopathic demon who had every intention of torturing and then killing me; and a psycho demon who wanted to make the entire rest of my life a living hell. And yet I swear I was more frightened now, as I stood outside Brian’s door with Dominic’s “care package” at my feet, than I’d ever been in the face of true physical danger.

  It had taken me more than three hours to get ready, as I’d considered and discarded about thirty different outfits, and at least another hour to nerve myself up to set foot outside my own apartment. Not that anyone would know how embarrassing my outfit was, since I’d covered all the sexy stuff with a mundane khaki shirtdress. No, the only sign that there was anything out of the ordinary was the pair of fuck-me pumps that had me teetering slightly with every step.

  Everything I was wearing was brand-new, purchased specially for this occasion. The only reason it had taken me so long to get dressed was because I tried so many times to chicken out of my selections. But hell, if I was going to do this at all, I was going to do this right. If that meant adding a dash of humiliation to the experience, then so be it.

  The people in Brian’s building know me by sight, and there was no sign they knew we had broken up. When I asked the front desk clerk not to call up to Brian’s apartment to let him know I was coming, he smiled at me and gave me a conspiratorial wink. It was almost enough to make me flee in terror, but once again I gave myself a mental kick in the ass.

  Now there was only one thing left to do. I took a deep breath, wiped my sweaty palms on my dress, and rang the doorbell.

  It was always possible I was getting myself all worked up for nothing. Maybe Brian would open the door, see me standing there, and shut it again without saying another word. Or I might tell him what I had in mind, and he would laugh at me. But in all honesty, that wasn’t how I expected this to go.

  My heart was going at about a thousand beats per minute. When Brian opened the door, my heart went for a thousand and one.

  The fact that he didn’t slam the door was both a relief and a source of terror. He cocked his head to one side, taking in my outfit from head to toe. His eyebrows arched when he saw the shoes, and he looked even more taken aback when he saw the suitcase that contained the “toys,” as Dominic called them.

  “May I come in?” I asked in a scratchy whisper.

  I would have liked to look sexy for Brian, but all I could manage right now was not to look too much like a deer in the headlights. He couldn’t possibly miss how nervous I was.

  “This ought to be interesting,” he murmured, a wry smile on his lips, as he opened the door wide enough to let me in.

  I gulped. Step one was successfully completed: he hadn’t slammed the door in my face. As a bonus, he didn’t even look at me like I was the last person on earth he wanted to see. I hesitated only a moment before picking up the suitcase and going inside. Then I kinda ran out of steam and stood there in the entryway wondering how the hell to begin.

  Brian came to stand in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest. “I have to admit, I’m insanely curious as to what you’re doing here and what’s in that mysterious suitcase,” he told me. He finished up with, “Nice shoes, by the way.”

  I stiffened my spine to the best of my abilities, then met Brian’s eyes. “I’m here to beg you to take me back,” I said.

  His eyes widened at that. I wasn’t one to beg, and he knew it. But after that moment of surprise, I could see him starting to shut down, closing his heart to me. I hurried on before he could finish that process.

  “The reason you dumped me is because I’ve given you every reason to believe I don’t fully trust you. But the truth is, it’s not you I don’t trust, it’s me. I can’t get over the feeling that you’re just too damn good for me, and I’ve spent most of the time we’ve been together tensed and ready for the moment you’d wise up to what a lousy catch I was.” I took a deep, steadying breath. Not that it helped a whole lot. “I came here tonight to prove to you that I do trust you, with all my heart.”

  Brian licked his lips and looked thoughtful. At least he’d stopped shutting down on me. His eyes flicked to the suitcase, then back to me. “I’m listening,” he said cautiously, his tone clearly saying he was making no promises.

  I began to unbutton my dress, pointing at the suitcase with a jerk of my chin. “Dominic calls that a ‘care package.’ I don’t know exactly what’s in it, but I know it contains what he and Adam consider ‘toys,’ if you know what I mean.”

  I had the dress unbuttoned all the way to my waist by now, giving Brian tantalizing glimpses of my black peekaboo bra and the gold belly chain. I paused for half a second, but he seemed in no hurry to interrupt me, so I soldiered on.

  “You know what an utter control freak I am,” I said, then swallowed hard. “But for tonight, and tonight only, I’m going to put all the power in your hands. Anything that’s in that case, you can use on me and I won’t object. Anything. I know you’d never harm me, even if you’re pissed as hell at me. So I know I’m safe taking my hands off the wheel for a while.” Even if the very thought made me break out in a cold sweat.

  I let the dress drop to the floor. My cheeks burned, and my mouth was parched. Brian had seen me naked hundreds of times, but I felt ever so much more vulnerable this time. Almost more naked than when I wasn’t wearing anything.

  Aside from the peekaboo bra, the belly chain, and the fuck-me pumps, I was also wearing a flimsy black lace thong, a garter belt, and black stockings. I didn’t know if this was anything like an outfit a truly submissive person would wear, but I did know it was sexy as hell. Or totally ridiculous-looking, depending on your point of view.

  From the look on Brian’s face, I’d say he thought “sexy as hell.” His eyes had darkened, and there was a noticeable flush in his cheeks. And yes, his pants were looking a bit tight. No matter how angry or disgusted he might be with me, I still lit his fire.

  Brian tore his eyes away from my body to look me straight in the eye. “Is the offer still on the table if I tell you there’s no chance in hell I’ll take you back?”

  I flinched. I couldn’t help it. I almost lost my courage completely, but I managed to dig it up from somewhere and meet his eyes once more. I was here to prove how much I trusted him. Brian would never put me through this if he wasn’t planning to take me back. I’d have loved for him to tell me that straight out, but I suppose that would have violated the spirit of things.

  “Yes,” I said, and I could see the effect that single word had on him.

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. Then he grinned, a wolfish expression I’d never seen on his face before. “Let’s see what’s in the case of goodies, then.”

  Brian picked up the suitcase and headed for his bedroom. I was lucky I didn’t fall over as I followed him with my shaky knees and my insanely high heels. He plunked the suitcase on the bed, then turned down the dimmer to bri
ng the lights to a more atmospheric level.

  Nervously, I came to stand beside him as he unzipped the suitcase. I was actually holding my breath when he flipped the top open. But there was nothing to see—yet—except for a length of black velvet that was tucked around the suitcase’s contents, and an envelope with Brian’s name on it and the words “for your eyes only” underlined.

  “Why do I have a feeling I’m going to want to kill Dominic when this is all over?” I muttered under my breath.

  Brian gave a huff of laughter as he picked up the envelope. “Go stand on the other side of the bed,” he ordered. “I don’t want you reading over my shoulder.”

  I tottered my way over, holding the bedpost to help my shaky balance. It seemed to take Brian about three hours to read whatever it was Dominic had written, and the expressions on his face as he read it sparked both curiosity and terror in me.

  Brian was grinning evilly when he finally looked up at me. “It’s mostly an explanation of what everything is and how to use it. I guess he thought I might find some of them a mystery.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “And would you?”

  He laughed. “Yeah. I’m afraid in this arena, I’m a babe in the woods.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  “I can’t believe you actually talked to Dominic about this. Wish I’d been a fly on the wall for that conversation.”

  The fire in my cheeks burned higher. “Just another indication of how serious I am.”

  Brian flipped the black velvet out of the way, but in the low light and from across the bed, I couldn’t see into the case well enough to identify anything other than a bunch of lumps. To clarify things for me, Brian lifted each item out of the case one by one, laying them on the bedspread for my inspection. I was really, really glad I had the bedpost to hold onto, because Dominic had taken me at my word—and then some.

  At first, the items Brian laid out were easy to identify and no more intimidating than I’d expected. Black velvet ties; lengths of silky-looking rope; fur-lined cuffs; a blindfold; a—gulp—ball gag.

  Then came some of the scarier items I’d expected. An oblong paddle, punctuated by scary-looking studs; something that looked like a short whip but with lots of thongs; a riding crop; dildoes in a variety of sizes and shapes.

  After that, I had trouble figuring out what the hell you were supposed to do with the objects Brian continued to lay out on the bedspread. Lots of little clips and clamps and bars and strings and springs. Something that looked like a miniature pizza-cutter with teeth. A black leather glove with lots of prickly metal barbs on the fingers. And a long, fluffy feather, of all things!

  I thought the case was completely empty when Brian looked up across the bed and met my eyes again. There was a warning in his eyes, and he held my gaze as he reached into the case and pulled out one last item. An item I knew all too well: the hellish whip Adam had used to tear my back to shreds.

  I swayed, and for half a second, I thought I was actually going to faint. I gripped the bedpost with all the strength in my body and bit down on the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood. There was a challenge in Brian’s stare, and I knew he was waiting for me to tell him to put that particular item back in the case. I also knew there was no chance he’d ever use it on me. The only reason it was in that case was as a challenge to my will and commitment. A challenge I was determined to meet.

  When I didn’t balk or otherwise object, I saw a hint of what might have been approval in Brian’s eyes. Then he rubbed his hands together like a cartoon villain. I might have laughed if I weren’t scared shitless. I held my breath as he slowly perused all the items on the bed, then reached for the blindfold.

  I can do this, I told myself as Brian stalked around the bed toward me. My every instinct urged me to flee, but I stayed put.

  “You know you’re courting disaster if you expect me to move in these heels while wearing a blindfold,” I said with a nervous laugh. “Maybe I’d better lie down first.”

  He didn’t answer, moving behind me and sliding the blindfold down over my eyes. It was thick and heavily padded, the padding conforming to the shape of my face so that no hint of light seeped through. Brian adjusted the elastic band behind my head, then slid one hand slowly down the length of my spine. Goose bumps immediately peppered my skin, and I shivered. I tried to tell myself that I wasn’t really blindfolded, that I was just in a very dark room. I wasn’t convinced.

  I expected Brian to lay me down on the bed—the image I had in my mind was of being tied, spread-eagled, to the four posts. Instead, he put his arm around my shoulders and guided me around toward the back of the bed. I kept hold of the bedpost, because even with his arm around me, I felt weak and disoriented, and I didn’t want to fall and break my leg. He turned me so that my back was to the room, then let go.

  He must have made a special effort to move quietly, because I couldn’t hear a thing, and I had no idea where he was. For all I knew, he’d left the room and I was just standing there like an idiot waiting for the ax to fall. But no, I was pretty sure he was picking out the next “toy.” I tried not to imagine just what he might select, or why he’d positioned me with my back—or perhaps more importantly, my backside— to the room.

  I jumped and let out a choked scream when his hand landed on my shoulder again. I hadn’t heard the faintest sound of his approach. He laughed at me, and I summoned a little surge of indignation.

  “Let’s change places and see if you don’t get a bit jumpy in this position,” I grumbled at him.

  “I’m the only one allowed to do any talking,” he informed me, his lips inches from my ear. I could feel the heat of his body against my back.

  I opened my mouth for a snappy comeback, but before I managed to say anything, Brian shoved something into my mouth. I realized instantly that it was the ball gag, and my veins were suddenly flooded with enough adrenaline to jump-start a semi. For the first time, I let go of the bedpost, my arms flailing with the surge of panic.

  Brian put his arm around my waist, balancing me when my sudden move almost toppled me. He made no effort to trap my arms, and when the worst of the panic faded, I realized all I had to do was spit the damn ball out and yank off the blindfold if I was ready to call it quits. I shuddered and pressed into the heat of Brian’s body, calming myself by inches. The straps that were meant to fasten the gag behind my head hung loose, the ends tickling my collarbone.

  “I like the idea of you not being able to talk back,” Brian murmured in my ear. “But when you’re ready to wave the white flag, you can let me know by dropping the ball.”

  Yes, I was nervous, uncomfortable, even scared. But I was still me, and I bristled at his use of the word “when.” So I let my fingers do the talking. Only one finger, actually. He made a tsking sound, and I tensed, waiting for him to do something S&M-like, like spank me or pinch me. But he didn’t.

  He moved away again, but my senses had adjusted a bit to my blindness, so I heard the faint whisper of his feet brushing the carpet, and I heard him when he came back. Even so, I jumped a bit when his hand circled my left wrist. Then it wasn’t his hand circling my wrist, it was something decadently soft—the fur-lined cuffs, I gathered. I hadn’t taken a real close look at them, but from the sensations, I gathered they closed with buckles. He put first one, then the other on me, but they didn’t seem to be attached to anything. Yet.

  “Are they comfortable?” he asked. “Nod if they’re okay, shake your head if they’re too tight.”

  I flexed my hands and wiggled my fingers. The cuffs felt like soft, furry bracelets, snug, but not uncomfortably so. I took a deep breath through my nose and nodded.

  There was a strange whispering sound I couldn’t identify, and then Brian was lifting my left arm up toward the bedpost. Even when he let go, I couldn’t lower my arm, and I realized the sound I heard was probably one of those lengths of silky rope being attached to the cuff and then tied to the bedpost. My heart fluttered, and I swallowed awkwardly, the
gag making the latter difficult.

  When Brian started lifting my right arm, I felt another surge of panic. This was it. Once he’d secured that arm, I would have no defenses left, no reassurance that I could remove the blindfold myself. I would be completely dependent on Brian to free me, helpless to stop him from doing anything he wanted. Even now, I’m amazed that I found the will and the strength to let him do it.

  He smoothed his cheek up and down my neck, his stubble abrading the sensitive skin there. “Remember, you can always drop the ball, and everything stops.”

  This was a test of my trust and of my resolve. If I dropped the ball, I failed the test. Period. I bit down on the ball between my teeth. I had no intention of failing.

  Once again, I heard the whisper of Brian’s feet on the carpet. Even with the gag in my mouth, I managed a little groan of discontent when he turned on his CD player. He put in something mellow and classical, but it was just enough to mask the sound of his footsteps, as I’m sure he intended.

  Time got a little wonky on me, my senses completely out of whack. I have no clue how long I stood there, my entire body tense enough to make my muscles quiver, waiting to see what Brian would do next, and when he would do it. That wait was pure agony. I knew that he wasn’t going to hurt me, at least not in any but the most minor of ways. He was too gentle a soul to be really brutal with me, no matter how vigorous he wished this test to be. But bound, gagged, blindfolded, and helpless, I couldn’t help letting my imagination run away with me.

  I was strung so tight after waiting I don’t know how long for something to happen that I actually jumped and shrieked at the feel of the feather caressing my ass. The gag kept the shriek from being terribly loud, but Brian certainly heard it. His laugh told me he was enjoying himself despite my misery.