Ties That Bind (Club Risque Book 3)

by Poppy Flynn

  When he finished, she tested the bonds, pulling against both her wrist and her leg restraints. There was a small amount of give, but not much. She was suddenly even more conscious of the nubby, ribbed fabric covering her mouth and how it rubbed against her lips, the differences in the materials that bound her ankles, his neck-ties soft on her skin, but constricting tighter when she pulled, the leather belt more like a cuff, cool and chaffing if she jerked against it. She was conscious, too, of how she felt splayed and displayed as well as the way her breasts thrust forward by the way her arms were stretched and secured over her head.

  Luanna had never considered herself to be a subservient kind of woman. She never really thought about it at all. But when Logan had brought up the terms Dominant and submissive, Luanna had doubted the depth of her participation. Oh, she had been honest, when she'd told him she was open to new experiences, but all her life, she'd had to be strong, to be self-reliant. She'd had to be the one in charge, because there had never been anyone else to shoulder her burdens. She'd had to learn to be self-sufficient, whether she wanted to or not, because it had been a necessity. Though willing to indulge him, privately, she had questioned whether the practice would appeal to her on any level above that of curiosity. Subconsciously, she had expected that once the experience was over, it wouldn't be something she would want to indulge in on a regular basis, that it would chafe too much against her character.

  Lying here now, though, spread out for Logan's enjoyment, silenced and restrained, Luanna felt a tremor of pure anticipation coursing through her veins that was unexpected and intriguing.

  What was more, Luanna was conscious of the subtle change in Logan, now that she was bound. It was as if he had morphed into some darker, more intense 'Alpha' version of himself. Dominant.

  Luanna was shocked to realise that this whole new demeanour really did something for her.

  It was nice to let someone else take control, to be in charge—more than nice. It was a liberation, even if that seemed like a contradiction. All her adult life, she'd been the one in charge. For once in her life, she had the opportunity to let that all go, to lie back and enjoy herself and let someone else take the reins. It was freeing and oddly stimulating, and Luanna suddenly found herself relishing every new experience.

  Logan stood at the end of the bed and simply looked at her, and Luanna found even that was a strange kind of turn on. Lying here, helpless, waiting, anticipating…his amber, lion's eyes devouring her body as if he was just waiting to eat her all up. A thrill ran through her at the weight of the expectation, and she felt her girly bits throbbing with pure need.

  Looking at her, tied to the bed, strapped down at his own hand, Logan felt the beast inside him grow and start to strain against the chains of his everyday life. It had always been like this. Sometimes, he felt like Superman, or rather, the mild-mannered Clark Kent, in his ordinary daily existence, ready to throw off his unremarkable veneer and morph into something spectacular; his Dominant alter ego.

  He spent each and every day gathering the minutiae of evidence from treaties and agreements in dusty tomes as he picked his way through reams of tedious corporate law so that he could write up long, monotonous contracts. Then he'd end up soothing the inevitably ruffled feathers by coaxing and cajoling the various parties into seeing things his way—or rather, his company's way.

  When he finally got to indulge in his love of Shibari at Club Risqué, he was ready to become Superman, casting off the mundane and swapping his unpretentious Burberry suit and Gucci loafers for leather trousers and buckled boots. So, it wasn't blue and red lycra. Whatever; the analogy fit.

  With his inner freak chomping at the bit, Logan let out the leash a little and allowed himself the liberty of sampling her silky skin. She was so damn soft and voluptuous. He wanted to fill his hands and mouth with all that supple, sumptuous flesh.

  He stroked his palms over every inch of her body, tweaking at her pouting nipples, feeling the ache in his cock every time she wrenched against her bonds. He followed his hands with his mouth, licking and nibbling, sucking and biting, sinking his teeth ever so gently into her fleshy curves. This woman could really be his addiction; she made his heart race and his pulse throb, and the more he had of her, the more he craved.

  He wanted so much from her, he had to remember to curb his appetites, so he didn't scare her off. Even though his gut instinct was to tie her up in knots and never let her go.

  She was new to all this, and as much as he wanted to take her to the limits, he didn't want to frighten her away by moving too fast and taking her so far out of her depth that she never trusted him again. In this intricate web he was weaving, trust was everything.

  Sighing with pleasure, he nuzzled his cheek against her smooth inner thigh, creeping higher but still teasing and tormenting, advancing then retreating, until, finally, he had teased himself almost as much as he had her, and he buried his head between her legs. He feasted on her pink pussy, pulling her lips apart and flicking his tongue softly, lightly, over her sensitive, exposed inner tissue. He loved the little sounds she made, muted by the makeshift gag, revelling in the power he felt as she squirmed and strained against the bonds that held her tight for his enjoyment and gratification. He could enjoy her all the more if she would only allow it. And he could show her the sun and the stars and all the colours of the rainbow in between.

  Palming the globes of her buttocks, he suckled her clit, holding her motionless for his assault. Then parting her cheeks, he allowed one long finger to drift over the forbidden pucker of her rosette.

  Luanna's chest heaved, her butt clenching and unclenching against his hands as he continued the illicit foray. Nothing too intimate; it was too early for that. Just the lightest of strokes, the barest sample of what that taboo experience might taste like.

  She started to whimper, her cream thick on his tongue, and Logan could deny himself no longer. Grabbing a condom from the nightstand and a pillow that had dropped to the floor, he made short work of covering his aching cock and shoved the pillow beneath her hips to force her pelvis upwards.

  He couldn't wait any longer. Without his usual finesse, he stuffed his cock inside her, wedging his considerable girth into her tight sheath, then dragging it out almost immediately and plunging back again.

  On his knees, he gripped her hips and pulled her to him, even as he thrust over and over again, his throat tight and his mind overwhelmed by finally witnessing her at his mercy like this. Sweat dampened her face, and her hair stuck to her brow. He could feel her tight walls begin to flutter around him and altered his position, easing his hold and covering her, cupping her breasts and biting at her tender nipples until she bucked against him and shattered with her completion.

  Logan couldn't hold back any more; he spewed his seed and let her spasming channel milk him with her residual contractions. Fumbling, he snatched the cloth away from her face, holding her head in both his hands, and he plundered her mouth, wanting, needing that connection with her.

  It was on the tip of his tongue to say, 'I love you!' He wanted to blame it on the heat of the moment, on her glorious surrender. But he had never been tempted to declare those words to anyone before. He kissed her deeper, instead, until both of them were desperate for air. Then panting and gasping, he rolled to the side, giving himself the barest moment to collect himself, before he disposed of the condom and set her free.

  Luanna lay there, dragging shuddering breaths into her lungs, eyes closed, mind whirling. The pungent smell of sex and satisfaction imbued in every lungful. She had never experienced anything so mind boggling in her life. Logan had lifted her to heights she had never sought to achieve, never believed were even possible.

  From the tiny pushes and peeks he had given her, she suspected there was more, but right now, she wasn't even sure she could survive it. She felt wrecked, and her normally serene emotions were jumbled and chaotic, which, in itself, was a little unnerving.

  Logan climbed into the bed beside her, adjus
ted the covers and pulled her close, massaging her wrists just as he had her ankles when he'd first untied them, making sure her circulation was good.

  She snuggled up to him, and he held her close, tight, even. But they both stayed silent. There simply weren't any words.

  Chapter 5

  Luanna kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. It wasn't that she didn't think she deserved good things or the chance of a little pleasure in her life; she was simply a realist.

  Relationships were hard work. They didn't just land in your lap and reveal themselves, so you could live happily ever after without a second thought. They took time and effort and understanding. And relationships that involved a third party, like a child, alternative concepts, like fetishes and the reality of a thousand-mile distance between their homes, required even more than most.

  If this was going to work, they needed to develop trust and understanding and the willingness to compromise, and all of those things took just one thing. Time. Nothing but time.

  There was no magic wand to be waved which would fix all their challenges; they just had to live with them and watch to see how they would unfold, then gauge the action and reaction between each party and examine the result to see if it was acceptable to them both, and if it wasn't, to explore either the alternatives or the possibilities of concession.

  Although maybe it was only she who realised the complexities at this early juncture. Danny seemed happy just to accept the change in circumstance and to share his dinner table and often his evenings and early mornings with another man without resistance or resentment. In fact, he and Logan had slipped into an easy and relaxed relationship of their own, based on camaraderie and mutual respect, much to her relief.

  And if Logan sensed her uncertainty, then he didn't push her, giving her all the time that she believed she needed. So why then, the feeling of impending doom?

  It irritated her. She wasn't this person. So, to find herself expecting the worst went completely against the grain. She couldn't even point to a reason behind the unexpected reaction, because, so far, everything was great. More than great, in fact, it was perfect.

  And maybe that, in itself, was the problem—that automatic, irrational but very human perversity to embrace the contrary belief that when absolutely everything was going perfectly well, things were simply too good to be true.

  It had been almost six weeks. They had been discreet about their relationship within the office environment, but not secretive, and it had been quietly accepted amongst the staff in much the same vein.

  They had spent most of their free time together, getting to know each other better, although the past week had given Luanna pause, and sometimes, she wondered if that was the source of the anxiety she felt overshadowing their relationship and of the unsettling sense of foreboding she couldn't seem to shake.

  Logan had been busy all week and unexpectedly missing from mealtimes at her home. Or, if he was there, then he left early and didn't come back, stating that his nights would finish too late and he didn't want to disturb her sleep.

  She wasn't the insecure type, but her feelings for Logan had blossomed and deepened to the point that just the thought of being without him caused her chest to tighten significantly. She knew it was something they still needed to address, since he was really only here temporarily, while the merger between the two companies settled so he could smooth out any bumps in that road. While he'd had to return briefly to the south coast a time or two, those visits had been brief, since most of the difficulties arose at this end of the situation, where they had undergone the most upheaval.

  Luanna found she dreaded the reality of Logan finally having nothing left to stay here for and having to return home. What would they do then? By mutual agreement, they seemed to have silently agreed to just cross that bridge when they came to it and spending the time they did have exploring what they had together, instead of worrying about the future. Except that Logan had been conspicuously absent this week, without being gone at all.

  She knew what was going on within the company, so she was well aware that whatever was keeping Logan busy was nothing to do with work. Yet he hadn't offered any explanation for his late nights and absences.

  After five days of such behaviour, Luanna had finally found her patience at an end and confronted the matter head on. Logan had simply told her that some friends of his had bought and renovated a local club, and this was their opening week. He'd revealed that he was overseeing the legal side of the business as a favour and he'd been on hand this week to help with any unexpected teething problems that might arise. That had been four days ago.

  Luanna had accepted the explanation, but he hadn't given her any other details, and curiosity had driven her to scour the local news for information on what new clubs had recently opened their doors. Maybe she should have curbed her inquisitiveness. They said curiosity killed the cat.

  Instead, here she sat, on a second Saturday night, after having spent the previous weekend mostly alone, laptop open and Google at her fingertips.

  Except for a few brief minutes within Friday's working day, she hadn't seen Logan since Thursday evening when he'd admitted that, this weekend, again, he would also be unavailable. Now she stared with a certain unease at the news blogs surrounding the inaugural opening of the BDSM sex club, Club Risqué.

  And Luanna knew; she just knew, that this was where Logan had spent the past nine days.

  She sat quietly for a while, trying to dissect how she felt about this knowledge. Sure, there was no confirmation as such—yet—but given his interest in bondage, it was too much of a coincidence for her to believe that Club Risqué wasn't the club Logan had been referring to.

  She wasn't angry as such, and she wasn't exactly jealous, although both emotions registered in her mind. She'd be lying to herself if she said they didn't; they simply weren't that strong. What she felt was… What? Irritation? Curiosity? Pique?

  She wasn't suspicious; she knew that much. She trusted Logan implicitly. He'd been involved in the lifestyle long enough that she certainly didn't imagine that he had run off in search of the thrills he might find there, so soon after they had embarked on a relationship together. He'd told her he was looking for something more meaningful and hopefully permanent. He hadn't found that in the BDSM lifestyle in all this time, so why would he look for it now?

  No, she instinctively knew that any doubts there would be completely unfounded. Besides, Logan was a straight shooter, just like she was. If he felt things weren't working out, he would simply say so before he moved on, instead of resorting to subterfuge.

  Luanna didn't doubt for one second that his claim that he was organising the legal side of the club opening was absolutely true. But why was it taking so much of his time?

  Yes, that was one of the things that was niggling at her in this scenario. Helping out some friends was one thing, but why had he needed to be at the club every day? She didn't even think most clubs—even the more mainstream types—were open on a daily basis. He was an excellent lawyer, and corporate law and contracts were his speciality. She couldn't imagine that there were mistakes on a scale that would require that amount of time to be corrected. The Grand Opening, she could understand, especially if the place belonged to people he knew well. She could even give him the whole weekend and maybe a day or two to review how well things were working or if there were any kinks that needed ironing out. But nine days solid, with the exception of the Sunday when he'd been so tired, it was obvious that he was functioning on the minimum of sleep from the previous forty-eight hours. And now, a second weekend. What exactly did that say?

  What did it say? Luanna mulled that question over in her mind and sighed.

  It said that he was a lot more invested in the lifestyle than he had implied. Not that he'd kept his interest a secret.

  Luanna stopped short. Or had he? Now that she thought back, it hadn't been Logan who had brought up the subject of his kink. She was the one who had first mentioned it. Of course, h
e hadn't denied it, had not even hesitated, but suddenly, Luanna couldn't help wondering how long it would have been before he'd broached the subject if she hadn't pushed. And neither had he discussed this new club and his involvement in it, until she had prompted the admission. Though he must have known that his obvious withdrawal would have her wondering what was going on, given how much time they normally spent together. Something just didn't add up.

  A tendril of disquiet curled its icy fingers down her back and Luanna shuddered, rubbing her hands protectively up and down her bare arms where goose bumps had erupted, even though it was far from cold.

  Shutting down her laptop, she padded to the kitchen and made herself a cup of hot, soothing tea as a nightcap before she retired for the night and curled up in the small bed that had nevertheless felt far too empty for the past few nights.

  If Logan really was much more immersed in the BDSM lifestyle than he had led her to believe, then what did that mean for them as a couple? After that first weekend, when he had tied her up with makeshift bindings, he hadn't pushed much further, except to introduce her to the real McCoy—proper hemp rope and a genuine gag. Oh, and the addition of a blindfold. Other than that, he seemed happy to just let things run their course, as interested in getting to know her personally as he was in discovering their sexual compatibility. She had thought they were well suited. Now, suddenly, she wasn't so sure.

  She felt like he had kept things from her, not through lies, but by omission. Things that were a huge and important part of his life. She felt as if her trust had been breached. Not because he had spent so much time at a kinky sex club, but because he hadn't told her about it. Because it appeared he had deliberately excluded her from that part of his life. He hadn't trusted her enough to be honest about the true extent of his contribution to Club Risqué.

  Luanna glanced over at the laptop she had left on the bedside table. Grabbing it once more, she did another Google search. Though she had joked about it, that first weekend, Luanna had never actually looked up any more information about Shibari. She hadn't felt the need, since Logan hadn't really mentioned it again.