Club Helix: The Power Games (37 page)

His hands slide around me to cup my breasts, and I melt into him.

“I love touching your breasts,” he says softly.

He picks up another length of silky-looking rope and rubs it over my skin languidly, caressing my flesh with the soft braided strands. Then with deft fingers, he begins to pass the rope around my torso and over my shoulders, looping it around me until he’s created a simple breast harness with the rope secured above and below my breasts, framing them. It’s not at all uncomfortable; in fact, it feels faintly erotic. He takes a third piece of rope and wraps it around the center of my breasts, right across my nipples so it lightly abrades them. That officially kicks the erotic factor up a notch, and I catch my breath at the sensation as the rope presses and rubs against my nipples.

“Clasp your hands behind you just above your ass.” His voice is almost hypnotic, and I wordlessly obey. The movement causes the rope that’s placed across my nipples to chafe against them even more, and I realize Roman knew exactly what he was doing; his intent in placing the ropes was to keep my breasts constantly stimulated, and it’s definitely working.

“Arch your back.” The sharp command has my nerve endings standing at attention.

I lift my butt off my heels to do as he says, and my breasts jut forward as the rope slides erotically over my nipples. A moan comes from somewhere deep within me. I never dreamed being tied up could be so arousing.

Using the ends of the rope from the breast harness, he ties my forearms together behind me with an almost military precision. He tugs at my arms and the restraints a few times, checking for who knows what, and then steps away to retrieve yet another piece of rope. I test the bindings to see how much give they have. There’s none; my arms are firmly bound behind me. I should be panicking, but instead I feel an odd, almost disassociated sense of relaxation and well-being.

“You still with me, Avalon?” I can feel him behind me, his warm hands caressing me, and my head lolls back against his shoulder. He kisses the side of my neck, and my heart stutters ever so slightly.

Then he’s wrapping more rope around my leg, binding my upper calf to my lower thigh so I’m tied into a kneeling position. I close my eyes as he wraps and pushes and pulls the rope until he’s satisfied, and then he stands and retrieves yet another length of rope. He repeats the process with my other leg, and when he’s finished, I realize I couldn’t stand up if I wanted to. I’m effectively immobilized and unequivocally at his mercy. I’m just grateful that Roman’s allowed me to keep my thong on. Emmett and Michael had both demanded Rebecca and Carly be completely naked and had taken advantage of that when placing their ropes. Roman, on the other hand, has steered clear of my girlie bits. I smile to myself. I’ve noticed he doesn’t like other men looking at or touching me there. His expression had been thunderous when he’d taken me off the pedestal in the Helix Room.

He begins to move around me, gathering the various ends of ropes and tying them to a steel ring suspended from the ceiling. He grabs the rope that’s binding my hair and pulls my head back until I’m gazing up into his eyes.

“Are you ready?”

Ready for what? Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Kincaid, the shibari expert, step onto the stage and stand next to the ring, double-checking Roman’s rigging. Oh, God. This can’t be good.

“Don’t you dare hang me from the ceiling,” I mutter.

“Remember who’s the Dom and who’s the submissive,” he warns me with thinly veiled amusement. He nods to Kincaid, and then I’m being pulled by the ropes that are attached to me and lifted off the floor until I’m hovering prone about five feet over the stage. It’s terrifying. With my arms tightly bound behind me and my legs frog-tied together, I’m completely helpless, like a fly trapped in a spider’s web. There’s no way to break my fall should the ropes not hold me, and I want to grab on to something—anything—but I can’t even move.

“Eyes on me, Avalon,” Roman reminds me firmly.

My wild-eyed gaze meets his.

“Trust me,” he says, and I swear I can hear a plea hidden in the command.

Although he’s pushed me further than I’ve ever been pushed before, both physically and emotionally, I have never felt as safe or secure or cared for as I do with Roman. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past four weeks, it’s that I’m stronger than I think I am, a fact that Roman seems to have known all along. I take a deep breath and will my muscles to relax. Once I do, I begin to feel the freedom in the suspension. When I trust that they’ll hold me, the protection of the ropes feels like an embrace, and I slowly surrender to the sensual peacefulness.

My peace is short-lived.

“Bottoms up, sweetheart,” Roman says. “Next time you’ll remember not to tell your Dom what to do.”

I gasp as the ropes binding my legs are pulled up and out, spreading me open while tilting me forward until I’m hanging almost completely upside down, my arms pointing toward the ceiling and my knees held wide by the rope. I feel totally exposed even with the thong on, and with my chest forced forward, the rope across my nipples tightens deliciously.

Roman comes to stand in front of me. Even from my vantage point upside down, I can see the heat in his eyes as he admires his work, enjoying both my exposure and discomfort.

“God, the things I want to do to you,” he says, his voice a caress. “I want to tie you up like this and then warm that milky-white skin of yours with my flogger until it’s flushed with color and arousal. I can imagine it perfectly—the way the flogger would feel hitting your body, the look on your face as I send you spinning with each strike, the way you’d dance on the ropes as my whip marks your body.”

I shudder, but I’m not sure if it’s in fear or arousal at his carnal words. His finger traces my slit through the sheer, silky fabric of the thong, and then he crouches down so his face is next to mine. “But I’d have you alone and naked, spread like this with your pussy open and accessible, and I’d whip your sweet little cunt until you screamed.”

My thigh muscles contract at his words, my legs desperately trying to close, but his words are fuel for the fire that’s simmering in my veins.

His voice is a low whisper near my ear. “Luckily for you, we’re not alone, so I’ll have to be content with my fantasy.”

MY DICK IS throbbing as I lower Ava and release the ropes after the photographer is finished. Her skin is beautiful, the marks made by the rope creating an intricate pattern over the smooth white canvas of her body. I gather her into my arms and carry her over to a love seat, grabbing a blanket to wrap around her as I hold her in my lap. I’d swear she was close to subspace, and some serious aftercare is in order after what I put her through. Pride surges through me at how much control and trust she just relinquished to me, especially given her fear after Megan freaked out in the ropes. Logan tells all the contestants we’re welcome to stay and play or return to the hotel. It’s almost two in the morning, and Ava looks decimated, so although both my dick and Ava protest, I take her back to the hotel and tuck her into bed.

The next morning, we fly back to Las Vegas and have the afternoon to rest and relax before the next event is announced. While Ava’s showering for dinner, I run downstairs to the boutique for a few things I plan to use tonight, and bump into Logan. He looks around the empty hallway briefly.

“You have a sec?” he asks.

“Sure,” I say, following him into his suite. I sink down into one of the plush leather chairs, stretching my legs out in front of me. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know if you’re stupid or brilliant. That was a hell of a risk, doing a suspension like that with Ava after Megan safe-worded. But it worked! You’ve managed to build an amazing rapport with her, especially given how inexperienced she is.” He taps his nose thoughtfully. “You know, there’s something extraordinary between the two of you.”

“It’s called a functioning D/s relationship,” I retort drily.

“You can’t hide behind your protocol and D/s conventions and guard your heart forever,” he says quietly. “She’s not Natasha.”

“It’s not my heart I’m guarding; it’s hers. Is this seriously what you wanted to talk to me about? Because if so, you of all people should know better.”

He studies me for a minute, and I can practically hear the gears turning. Then he abruptly leans back and says, “No. We’re getting some heat from a politician in Washington who’s making a bid for the presidency. He’s trying to shut down the show, claiming it’s a violation of human rights, and specifically women’s rights. Apparently this guy’s platform is built around women’s issues—stopping sex trafficking, antipornography, yada, yada, yada. He’s keeping the fight on the down-low right now, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he takes it public and makes it his crusade to win the more conservative votes.”

“What do you need?” I ask curtly, my attention fully focused on him now.

“At the moment, nothing. We’ve retained a renowned First Amendment attorney who specializes in FCC issues. He says the guy’s just looking for a cause to propel him to the forefront of the campaign, and we’ve been diligent in dotting our i’s and crossed our t’s when it comes to following the FCC guidelines, but I just wanted to let you know in case things go south quickly. Filming wraps up in two weeks, so I think we’ll be fine, although we may need to step up security when the hotel opens to the public for the finale. I don’t know how far this guy is willing to go.”

“Whatever you need, you’ve got it,” I promise.

He nods. “I’ll keep you posted.”

Ava and I eat dinner with the rest of the contestants, which is now down to eight of us—me and Ava, Emmett and Rebecca, Luke and Tessa, and Michael and Carly. After dinner, Ava and I go for a walk outside, and she laughingly pulls me into the labyrinth constructed of hedges that’s built in the center of the huge outdoor garden of the Helix. Hand in hand we walk deeper and deeper into the maze, taking a seemingly endless series of turns until we reach the center.

“It’s like the maze from the story of Theseus and the Minotaur,” she says. “Every path, no matter how wrong it seems, leads to the center.”

I look at her in surprise. My little submissive is as intelligent as she is beautiful.

“Yes,” I say softly. “And I’m the monster in the center that wants to devour your flesh.”

Her eyes darken. “You’re not a monster.”

“Oh, but I am,” I assure her, capturing her wrists and tugging them brutally behind her as I ravage her with a kiss that’s meant to bruise her lips and send her pulse racing. When I finally let her go, she’s winded. “You’re going to find out just how much of a monster I am tonight since you’ve earned a punishment.”

She raises her eyebrows. “A punishment? Why?”

I take her chin in my hand, forcing her gaze to mine. “Tell me again what you said when you left for Sonoma.”

She thinks for a moment, and then comprehension dawns in her eyes as she remembers. And dammit if she doesn’t smile impishly.

“Say it again if you dare,” I challenge her, my voice low and threatening. The beast in me is clawing to get out, to punish and hurt her, to make her cry, but the man in me wants to give her a chance to run while she can.

She looks me straight in the eye and says, “You’ll never own me, Roman Castile.”

“I beg to differ,” I say, my voice a low growl.

She’s sealed her fate, and I’ll stop at nothing to own this woman, with her cool composure and unbreakable spirit. She’s about to find out just how brutal I can be. She’s come face-to-face with the Minotaur, and I’m about to let the monster come out to play.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Ava

After our kiss inside the maze that left my insides quivering and my knees weak, both Roman and I are too consumed by lust to linger in the gardens. By wordless agreement, we find our way out of the maze and go back to our suite. In the bedroom he stands over me, invading my space and overwhelming my senses, the sheer virility of him igniting fire in my veins. What the hell is wrong with me that I’m intent on poking the devil? I’m not just encouraging Roman to unleash his violence on me, but I’m welcoming it, my sex clenching and my pussy growing wet at the thought of his ruthlessness.

“Did you do what you said you would?” he demands, fisting his fingers in my hair and yanking my head back so I’m gazing up at him.

“What’s that?” I ask breathlessly.

“Did you save an orgasm for me?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “Maybe one,” I add mischievously.

“Avalon, you are going to be sorry for goading me so shamelessly,” he promises.

With the way sheer, unvarnished lust is coursing through me, I seriously doubt that.

He lets go of me abruptly. “Strip!”

I do as he says, my fingers trembling as I slip off the summer dress I’d worn to dinner, followed by the white bra and matching lace panties. When I’m standing before him completely naked, although he’s fully dressed in one of those sexy suits he wears all the time, he shrugs out of his jacket and tosses it onto the back of a chair. I watch mesmerized as he methodically rolls up his shirtsleeves, revealing his tan, muscular forearms. His tie is next, and he tugs it off slowly, letting it fall to the floor as his predatory gaze roams over my naked body.

“Turn around.”

I do as he says. I stand with my back to him, wondering what he plans to do next as my heart hammers wildly. “Bend over and touch the floor.”

I comply.

“Now spread your ass.”

“What?”

“Do it now.” His tone brooks no argument.

With my face burning with shame, I reach behind me and grab both cheeks, spreading them open so my hole is humiliatingly exposed. His hand on the small of my back is surprisingly gentle as he squirts cold lube between the cleft of my ass and then unceremoniously pushes a plug into me. I inhale sharply at the burn as it breaches the ring of muscles and settles inside me. This one is bigger than the first one he used, but although I can definitely feel it filling me with its forbidden thickness, it’s not uncomfortable.

“Stand up.”

I obey quickly, and he turns me to face him. His eyes are dark and unfathomable, filled with power and lust. Roman the sadist has clearly taken over.