Scrupulous (An Affliction of Falling Novel Book 1)

by Canady, Kristina

  "Don't get too comfortable, haven't decided how long he gets to stay quite yet,” I mumble through a mouthful.

  "Sorcha, I am not going anywhere," Gavin informs me before carrying on with my group of friends, getting to know everyone while I sit back and watch it unfold─ only to be left to wonder what kind of carnage will be left for me to clean up.

  After the initial uncomfortable exchanges, Gavin assimilated effortlessly, winning over my loved ones without so much as blinking. It is as if he has always been one of us, and Breonna absolutely approved. Which made this all the more interesting. He is becoming fast friends with my crazy lot, making it more impossible to come up with reasons to keep the walls up between us. And it intensified the feeling of rightness I had with him by my side. Gavin said he could see himself falling in love with me, something that is quite mutual.

  Chapter 10

  Gavin

  And that’s all folks. A couple of days getting to know each other beyond the horizontal tango and I am falling fast for that little sprite. She isn’t afraid of me and she isn’t afraid to be herself with me. When we are together, it is just us. My reputation of being a brute doesn’t exist and there are no false pretenses, which is a breath of fresh air. With her, I can just be. Reminiscing over our time together, my happiness is short lived as my phone alerts me to Daz’s call.

  “We have a situation down at the high rollers’ event, and it involves a high-end client getting inappropriate with a waitress.”

  “I love it how you don’t even wait for me to properly answer the line before you start jerking my dick around.”

  “I don’t pay you for niceties, asshole. Gavin, this one might take a couple of days to settle. I need you to use kid gloves here.”

  “And that is why you keep me around, because there is no other sorry sap you can talk into doing your dirty work.”

  “I keep your worthless ass around because you are too damn good at what you do to let go. And I can actually trust you. Well, trust you as much as I am capable of.”

  “Keep up these calls and I am going to feel like I am right back runnin’ with the McDonahues.”

  “Don’t insult me, boy. My operations are on the up and up; I am clean as a whistle with a paper trail to prove it.”

  “Uh-huh. Right. Paper trail fabricated from virginal sacrifices, children’s tears and a nuns reverent prayers.”

  “It’s amazing how the game changes when you begin pampering the one percent, providing exclusive services that come with a cost. Anyhow, don’t go getting all sentimental on me. Your name remains squeaky clean. Rest easy, son.”

  “Rodger that.”

  Ending the call and scrolling for Sorcha’s number to let her know that I will be absent, I realize with a curse that I don’t have it. Her presence gets me so hot and bothered, all I can think about is how quickly I can get inside of her and when that is said and done, all I want to do is talk to her about everything and nothing. Formalities of phone numbers fall wayside. If what I am about to get into is what I think it is, I can’t risk going near Sorcha until my package is stuffed and delivered. The only way a rich man who is harassing one of Daz’s staff can be dealt with the right way is by digging a bit of dirt and delivering a message. Time to go underground.

  Sorcha

  As I ready a veggie smoothie to take to the studio with me, I start to think about the fact that I spent last night alone and am shocked by my sudden foul mood over it. After the infamous ‘linner,’ Gavin left for the Velvet Rope to attend to his responsibilities only to return to my place and work me over hard for almost twenty-four hours straight, allowing only a few catnaps in-between. He tortured me with orgasm denial until I divulged every last facet of my ‘point system,’ as well as details on my sexual preferences, including types of men. It wasn’t until I was screaming his name- begging him- that he finally put me out of my misery with a mind-blowing release.

  After a bit of recovery care, he would start the whole mess over again, sadistically pushing me in psychologically and physically stimulating ways that somehow increased my overall ecstasy by breaking down my carefully constructed barriers. Now that I think about it, he had an unusual amount of sexual aggression needing a prompt outlet on the nights he worked at the dungeon. Perhaps he really is being faithful and saving his primal needs for me.

  We finally rolled out of my bed yesterday and went to the clinic together to get tested. I am ready to take the next step with him, and I am even toying with the idea of calling him my boyfriend. That man has been doing things to me inside and out and I really enjoy it.

  After our visit, he had backed me into an alley on the walk back home and got me all hot and bothered against an old brick wall. We were exhausted, but the ceremonious act signified a momentous moment for our relationship and breathed new vigor into our bodies. But it had all been nothing as he ended up leaving me high and dry; Daz had strategically interrupted the moment with a matter that needed Gavin’s immediate attention.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out Daz had some questionable business practices; that had been suspected from day one, I just played dumb as it didn’t involve me. Now it seemed too, in a third-party sense. I stayed up all night waiting for Gavin, who never came. He promised he would never pull that crap again, and would show me the respect and decency of a simple head’s-up minus any details. I didn’t need or want all the details.

  Throwing a lid on the smoothie, I drag over to the coffee pot and grumpily make a little therapy for myself. As the liquid brew boils and begins to drip, I check my cell to find it void of Gavin’s communication attempts. Finding Samuel’s number in my favorite’s list, I punch send and tap my foot anxiously while waiting for him to pick up.

  “What?” his grouchy voice croaks out.

  “Sorry to wake you. He wasn’t here last night like he said he would be. He never called to change our plans. I don’t have the bastard’s phone number and why am I so amped up over this? I shouldn’t give a shit. This is why I don’t date!” I end in exasperation as I pad to the fridge in search of cream.

  “Slow your roll; it’s too fucking early for crisis mode. I am heading to the club in a few hours to teach a few classes and am staying to play with Reed. I will keep my eyes open and if I see him, I will tell him to call your needy ass,” he groans, and then starts to chuckle.

  “Are you laughing? I can’t believe you are laughing at me. Wait, I can. Text an overwhelmed and whiny girl back when you have answers, will you?” I must be a masochist if I continue engaging in relationships with people like this.

  “Will do.”

  After taking myself to lunch and holing up in the studio to work on the installation piece that would be the crowning jewel at my event, I find myself back on the sofa, pouting by nine. I haven’t heard from Gavin, Samuel, or anyone, not even my annoying sister. Who the hell have I become? I’m not the type to need contact with others, to need the validation or comfort it gave. I’m typically quite independent and semi-removed.

  Open play at the Velvet Rope starts Wednesday evenings at nine and continues through Sunday. Do I sit here and feel sorry for myself or hussy up and go out? If I am to attempt anything with this bugger, I need to figure out if I can put my issues aside and get down with the whips and chains. He won’t admit it, but he needs me to try. Perhaps my removed and independent nature is the cause of my current direst, a self-inflicted issue that could be remedied by simply giving more? Do I go down there and have a little self-discovery? Samuel would have called me if Gavin was there, which means I can explore this issue without the pressure of Gavin’s presence. Bastard could be laying in a hospital bed for all I know. Fuck it.

  ∞

  “Good evening, L. Welcome back. I see that you are alone. Will you be wearing a key this evening?” Sapphire asks with her courteous smile and blue eyes sparkling.

  “Uh, no thank you. Not sure if I am quite ready for that.” A lump of nerves gets caught in my throat.

  “No pr
oblem at all. If you are at any time, please just ask in the coatroom. Would you like tour? We have a few resident Dom’s who would be happy to show you around and answer any questions.”

  “Does that apply to helping with equipment? I am so new to this,” I timidly ask as I fiddle with the seam of my coat, brazen stance aside. Entering uncharted territory alone has a way of stripping you bare.

  “Of course, knowing the equipment allows you to better understand any transactions you choose to make for a scene. Please, head in and check your belongings. I will have Master Devon tend to you,” she chirps and motions me through.

  As I eye the bodyguard and slink past, his expression has me rethinking coming here alone. I suddenly feel like prey. The place appears to have a steady stream of bodies, but it is not near as crowded as it was the other night. Checking my coat and adjusting my red bustier and leather pants, I almost jump when a tall, blond, athletic figure approaches with a devilish smile, assessing me on what feels like a very intimate level.

  “Hello, pet. Master Devon at your service. Sapphire says you would like a proper tour and help with a few pieces of equipment?” His eyes shamelessly sweep over me.

  “Yes, sir. Thank you. I’ve only taken the first introduction class and would feel more comfortable playing if I had a better idea on the tools of the trade.” I want to learn more so that I can see if it is possible to give more to my sadist.

  “Not a problem. To begin our tour, this level is where we have private rooms for rent.” He passively motions to that fated door Gavin had taken me through, and I damn near tremble at the memories.

  “Yes, I am familiar with the upper level. I came to the event a few weeks ago, I know the first floor quite well,” I hint. He regards me for a moment with his handsome face before lightening his expression.

  “Didn’t make it to the dungeon then? Well, little one, you are in for a treat.” He holds out his arm for me to take. After a moment of hesitation that I hope doesn’t come off as rude, I wrap my arm in his and look up into his blue eyes as he assesses me thoroughly. “You are quite a tasty little thing, pet. I think I might rather enjoy this tour.” He winks. I shake my head and smile playfully.

  Leading the way down into the belly of the beast, we round a corner and are met with quite a sight. Laid out before me is a large space with elevated platforms that maximize the space and allow for maximum play. The center has a few large, intimidating pieces of equipment that I have no idea what would be used for. The perimeter is sectioned off by a multitude of play areas, equipment, and furniture all partially hidden by flowing curtains, giving the illusion of semi privacy though everyone can still see what is going on. Various forms float around effortlessly, engaged with their partners and seriously partaking in or prepping for their scenes. The fluidity and devote attention to each task at hand is being seamlessly carried out by the participants, lending to the mysterious beauty of their rituals.

  “First stop, this is our demonstration wall. All the toys here are meant for teaching as most members utilize their own. You are welcome to borrow these in the beginning, but they need to be placed here for cleaning post use.” He waves at a discreet large trunk.

  A loud groan of pleasure sounds out to our right and draws my head up quickly. A lean, muscular man has his sub strapped down to a table of some sort and he is strategically attaching nipple clamps with a rustle of metal links clambering on one another, an act that has his very naked sub quivering under his touch. My cheeks flush as I immediately recall the last orgasm I had by Gavin’s hand. The male catches me staring and gives me a devious wink, causing me to promptly look away.

  “Have I lost your attention already, pet?” Devon asks with a grin, missing nothing.

  “I apologize, sir. Please, what are these?” I know they are riding crops, but I want to keep my innocent act up for full effect. If I act like I know everything, he might hold back on teaching and I know I have holes in my knowledge base.

  “Those are riding crops. These are whips, and over there, we have canes. Have you ever been spanked, pet?” he asks with a sudden excitement in his eyes as his shoulders bunch in anticipation. I know I can’t lie; he will smell it a mile away.

  “Hmmm, only by hand, sir.”

  “Would you like me to sample on you?” he asks politely but with a needy edge. Eagerness lights me up at the thought; I rather like being spanked. The scent of sex and leather in the air spurs me on.

  “Yes, please. Can I try the crop, sir?” Look at my manners! Go, me.

  “Absolutely. Bend at the hips,” his voice demands in a deeper tone, leaving no room for qualms, quite the juxtapose to his happy-go-lucky demeanor a minute ago. Complying with his request in a squeak of black leather, I watch as he carefully makes a selection and walks around me. With a quick flick of his wrist, a perfectly delivered swat stings my cheek before spreading into delicious warmth that immediately goes to my core. My breath draws in swiftly as I bite my lower lip.

  “Care for another?” he huskily asks.

  “Yes, please.” So much more.

  His delivery is as exquisite as the first and stimulates my entire body to tune in, quickening my breath.

  “Another?” His own enjoyment is obvious. We need to stop now before this gets out of hand, our mutual attraction and excitement tainting the air with wrongness.

  “Sir, may we come back to this? I would really like to know more. What is that?” I motion to a large piece in the middle of the room that looks like it should have monkey bars but they are missing.

  “That? It is used for suspension. Do you know what that is?”

  I nod.

  “Good, and that next to it is the monster. We call it that as it draws out monster orgasms. It really is just a machine-operated fuck table.” I focus on the giant dildo situated at an angle in front of leg stirrups. I’ll be, so it is. A gyno table rigged with a remote control dildo and leather straps to restrain a participant. The slap of leather on flesh in the distance startles me and makes me take a step back from ‘the monster.’

  “Care to sample that as well?” he huskily asks as he moves closer.

  “Uh- no, thank you.” He chuckles good naturedly at my response.

  “Are those Saint Andrew’s crosses?” I motion to the other side.

  “Yes. A personal favorite of mine.”

  Stepping closer to observe a couple, I am transfixed by the female’s limp body, completely enraptured by the pleasure being delivered by the large, shirtless male. She is floating high in what Samuel taught me is called subspace, slacked in her taut chains, void of any cares in the world at all. The guy works her over with an impressively huge whip, kissing her skin with rather large welts that somehow don’t break the surface, even though they should have considering the force in which they were being delivered. As the next delivered ‘crack’ from the whip lands on her flesh, her head lulls back in ecstasy, eyes completely glazed over.

  I step even closer to the couple, the rhythmic sounds and motions drawing me in, like a moth to a flame. I can almost feel her pleasure as it is palpable under her Master’s hand. As the males back flexes and his thighs tighten for another swing of the whip in a dance around her, a distinct tattoo of a geometrical and organic design blending down his shoulder and onto his arm catches my attention.

  I know that tattoo. I know that ass. Fucking Gavin! He is not supposed to be here! His wrist snaps and the whips lash echoes out in a bite, followed by her deep, sensuous moan. Gavin approaches the woman and whispers something in her ear as he smooths his hand down her back and settles it tenderly on her ass, roughly chasing away the sting of the latest delivery.

  Abstractly observing the situation, I don’t have any emotional firings over the matter. But then my stupid heart decides to leap in my chest and sting my eyes. Bastard wasn’t hurt lying in a ditch somewhere like I had feared; he has been busy living his life as he sees fit. Just as I had told him to do.

  We were not entirely exclusive, I remind myself.
The intention of coming here was to learn more and see if I can be what he needs, what I want to be for him. I’m not planning to change myself for him, simply to be more open to trying new experiences that could bring us closer and possibly help with long-term satisfaction for both of us. Days without hearing from him made me panic, made me want to reevaluate how stringent I have been, which led me here.

  “Look like something you want to try? We can use the riding crop.” Devon’s voice drips with scintillating promises and is quite enticing. That crop was delightful, but did I want to stoop that low? Scene with another next to Gavin just to spite the man? I want to, which is odd and out of character for me, but I know better. Decisions, decisions. My scorned heart ends up winning over logic.

  “Master Devon, would you be able to show me the wider crop instead, please?” I intentionally ask loud enough for Gavin to catch the hint of my voice, but not loud enough to disturb the others invested in their scenes. Gavin freezes, and I see the muscles in his rippling back tense to a disturbing degree.

  “Of course, right this way,” he says silkily, encouraging me back to the wall of toys.

  Purposely not looking over at where I can feel a heated stare burning into me, I allow Devon to position my body and bend it at the waist, my bottom conveniently now facing Gavin. Devon makes quick work and wields me a good one that draws out a whimper of pleasure from me as I turn my head slightly to look back at the one now throwing daggers my way.

  “You seem to like that, pet.”

  “Yes, Sir.” He gives me another without asking my permission, which doesn’t necessarily offend. God, I want more, but not by his hand. Devon is quite handsome by every sense, but the fuming, dark form across the way is what is truly setting me ablaze. Devon administers another. I have to brace myself loosely on the wall of toys as pleasure lights up my backside and I moan out. We are getting carried away and I am allowing it in a moment of perverted lust, picturing Gavin as another delivers the stimuli.