RockYourSoul (5 page)

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Authors: Sara Brooks

BOOK: RockYourSoul
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“How very true.” Glad to see some things never changed. “Extremely,
to answer your question about how open. Rumor has it an orgy occurred on the
very spot in which you’re standing.”

Beth looked down at her feet. Her toes tapped together as
she leaned back on her heels. “Oh. Oh my.”

“I bet that was said a lot.” He winked, pulling her to the
center of the space with him and out of the oppressive and stagnant air hanging
in the corner near the cage.

Beth giggled as she pointed over her shoulder. “And there?
Whose room is over there?”

“That would be Patrick’s room. Well, Patrick and Allison’s
room. He has some choice equipment in there—though I may be biased.”

Her eyebrows winged up. “Used some of his equipment, have
you?”

“Not used—built. Most of his equipment he asked me to
create.” He could still feel the smooth finish of the St. Andrew’s Cross under
his hands. The gorgeous beauty had made the piece hard to let go of, but it
helped knowing it was right across the hall. “Any time one of my friends needs
a piece of custom furniture built, I’m usually their go-to guy. I even install
it all myself because I don’t trust others from mucking up my work.”

“You take great pride in your craft.”

“I do, yes. I have no business doing the kind of work I do
if I didn’t. The arrangement also keeps the secret about what happens inside
these walls. Not as if you could ask Aiden Huntington down at Huntington
Furniture on Main Street to build and install a custom-made piece of sex
furniture. At least not without a lot of explaining or shaking the vines of the
local gossip circuit. I can just see the old man’s expression now.”

“What about the other room?”

“Dade.” He paused, thinking. “How in the hell do I explain
someone like Dade?”

“Does he like things out of the ordinary or something?”

“He’s just confused. Uses his room to try to work out his
confusion. Don’t think he’ll ever find an answer because he’s not asking the
right question.” Her curious glimpse over her shoulder wasn’t enough for him to
explain further. He was still trying to figure out what Dade was looking for in
his life so he wasn’t about to offer up his theories. He just hoped his friend
found it eventually—whatever
it
was. “Dade purposefully dates the wrong
people just so he doesn’t risk getting too attached. He likes to keep his
distance both emotionally and physically.”

She grunted. “So, how do the four of you keep straight who
gets the warehouse?”

He held up his cell phone before tossing it onto a table.
“Elena keeps an electronic schedule she hooks us all into. That way we know
when to come by and when not to. It allows for privacy. I’m actually
responsible for set-up when someone needs something special, which is why
Allison was asking if I would take care of things this morning.”

His hands brushed against her neck, grazing her skin with
the lightest of touches. The atmosphere of the room immediately became charged.
He felt as if things had fallen into his favor again. He already knew she’d
fight him on a few things based on her reactions so far. He was going to have
to push some more on the basics.

“We’ll start with something easy. No heavy pain play and no
equipment. Just simple directions and some bindings.”

She nodded.

He wasn’t the sort who liked silent submission. He wanted
noise. Screams. Curses. His name spilling from luscious lips he hadn’t stopped
thinking about since she’d interrupted his work last night.

Focus, dammit. This is about her—not you, asshole.

“You’ll need two safewords.”

“Two?” Her puzzled look told him she’d never heard of such a
thing before. She wouldn’t be the first. In his experience, not too many people
employed the practice anymore. But it was something the old guard had used
frequently and he liked the bit of tradition in his own play.

“Two safewords aren’t used much anymore. If the sub knows
how to communicate with her Dom, one safeword is enough. I prefer the choice.”

“Makes sense. But shouldn’t you tell me what you want them
to be?”

Her confusion made him want to curl himself around her body
in order to protect her from all the damage Ethan had done.
Such a broken
sub.
“I’ve discovered it’s easier for the sub to remember if they’ve picked
the word themselves. Nothing tricky or complicated, but something you can
remember even when you’re in subspace should we ever get to that point. Do you
have an idea of what you’d like?”

“For now, how about apple for stop and lemon for a break?”

“That’s fine.”

“Easy enough.” She shrugged, folding her arms across her
body. Her unease settled around her shoulders like a damp blanket weighing her
down.

He tugged on her hand, pulling her to the center of the room.
“And from this moment on, you’ll address me as Master or Sir.” Her hand
trembled in his, a signal he’d hit another nerve. “How about Sir for now?”

She nodded.

He’d had a few subs before who hadn’t liked Master, mostly
because it walked too close to the Master-slave line they weren’t willing to
cross. Even he had his own hard limits and wasn’t completely inflexible.
Undoubtedly, her former Dom had simply demanded to be called Master because he
felt as if he had the right.

Bastard.

He reached out and skimmed his fingers over the curve of her
jaw again. His other hand lifted, threading through her hair as he felt her
body tremble, then relax. The conditioning touch seemed to ground her so he
decided to continue to employ it. He’d used the technique before on a few
skittish subs.

It would be a perfect complement to her training.

The sound system made a faint whirring noise before the
playlist he’d queued up started to play. Hard driving music filled the space
and he breathed deep, knowing he had the wherewithal to be the steady-handed
Dom she needed him to be.

Just another day in the office.

“Ready?”

“Yes Sir.”

Chapter Five

 

Music throbbed from all sides, pulsing against her body. It
felt so comforting after the moment of panic she’d experienced. She should have
realized a Dom of Ryan’s caliber would have devices she’d have to confront
again. The cold hard callousness of the metal wasn’t something she’d been
prepared for.
Talk about having the wind taken from your sails.

She shouldn’t have been surprised—he didn’t seem like the
type to skimp.

The fact he had a cage meant he had a lot of experience. The
level of commitment to his craft was exactly what she needed. What she was
looking for. She wasn’t opposed to heavy-duty equipment. Her familiarity simply
hadn’t been the greatest because of her choice in Masters. She’d known she
would face this when she’d decided to step back into this world, so she had no
right to feel so off kilter about the fact the cage was there.

“The room is soundproofed. So you can make as much noise as
you like.”

She immediately blushed as Ryan circled around her. “I’m not
usually…I mean, I don’t usually make much sound during sex. Ethan didn’t like
to hear anything unless he specifically demanded it of me. Usually only when he
watched someone else with me.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d
vocalized her pleasure during a scene, much less during sex.

“Really? Shame. I’ll take that as a personal challenge to
show you just how fun being loud can be.” He stopped in front of her, his thumb
tracing the inside of her wrist just above the leather cuff. The movement
caused her to focus as he started to lift the hem of her shirt.

She exhaled slowly, a ripple of pleasure spearing through
her when he made contact with her abdomen. Her brain seemed to be at war with
her pussy. Part of her wanted him to strip off her clothes just to get this
whole thing over with, but the other part wanted him to be slow and seductive.

He seemed to find a balance between the two as he
unhurriedly stripped her shirt away. Those skilled hands of his traced over the
lines of her chest, pausing to draw a circle around each of her nipples as he
pulled away her bra. “Have you ever worn a rope harness?”

“No. Ethan preferred less forgiving means of restraint.”
Heavy, thick chains had haunted her dreams for a few months after she’d left.
She’d worn his marks for days after one of their scenes because of his affinity
for such heavy implements.

Before him, she’d always wondered what it would be like to
wear the mark of her Dom. After she’d discovered the answer, she’d found the
thought disgusted her because of the unspoken implication. Ethan’s marks meant
he owned her—not just in mind but also in body. Everyone had known she was his.
The pain and discomfort of his marks also left her with the sense of being
possessed. A feeling she hated.

Except now.

For a reason she knew she would have to examine later, she
welcomed the thought of Ryan leaving his mark on her. It seemed totally in
contradiction about what she’d thought of herself after everything she’d been
through. To the long-healed wounds still marking her body.

Maybe she really was a sadist.

“If I tie you up will it be another trigger?”

“No. I’m fine.” Something inside her wanted to please him.
His stern look forced her to genuinely smile. “Really.”

He nodded, accepting her assurance. His calloused palms
skimmed over her hips as he moved her jeans down and away. Her pussy won the
war finally because she suddenly wanted to know how it would feel to have those
workman’s fingers thrusting inside her. She even wondered what it would be like
to drench those fingers as she came.

A gentle pinch brought her back to here and now. The thin
line his lips formed signaled he wasn’t pleased. “Sorry, Sir.”

“I’d prefer to make you get carried away, not have you do it
yourself.” He leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the outside of her hip.
She blinked, surprised at the intimacy of the act. “Your ink is gorgeous. I
don’t think I’ve ever seen such impeccable work.”

His hand fanned out over the tattoo marking her entire left
side from arm to hip. The warmth of his fingers tracing the intricate pattern
of gears and rusted metal done in shades of brown caused her to exhale slowly
to control her racing heart. “Whoever did this work is a genius. They’ve made
it look as if your skin is peeled back at the edges to show all of this. As if
you’re giving a peek at what makes you tick.”

“Thank you. My grandfather paid for it as my graduation
present. I was on a steampunk kick at the time. Well before anyone knew what
the hell steampunk even was.”

“Well, I have no idea what it is either, but you obviously
did, so that’s what matters.” His warm lips pressed against the center of the
area before he stood again, moving around behind her. “Not to mention it draws
the eyes away from these.” The tips of his fingers traced over the knots of
damaged skin lacing her back.

She swallowed, fighting the urge clenching at her stomach to
step away from his touch. The memory of how she’d earned the marks caused bile
to rise, the acidic taste burning her throat.

Surely he wouldn’t want to continue now. Not after seeing
how her skin was marred with such an ugly disfiguration. Permanent marks, which
couldn’t be erased no matter how hard she tried.

Horror rolled through her as his palms pressed against her
lower back where the damage had been the worst. Her shoulders hunched, the
muscles of her calves tightening as she prepared to run as far away as she
could. His hands rested lightly against her skin, the warmth radiating between
their bodies. Terror expanded to the farthest points of her body despite her
best efforts to keep the fear at bay.

I can do this, dammit.
He
is not going to control
the rest of my life. I deserve to enjoy this again.

“Yes, Beth, you do deserve to enjoy this.” The pressure of
Ryan’s hands increased, her breath hitching as she cringed with the realization
she’d spoken out loud. “But unless you relax, I can’t admire the rest of this
gorgeous body you’ve presented me with.”

What the…had he just complimented her during a scene?

His thumbs moved slowly against the worst of her scars and
she managed to pull in a breath. Another. And another. Her heart rate finally
began to settle, her lungs no longer burning from her panic. One of his
abrasive fingers traced the longest of her scars, a reminder from Ethan about
what happened when she dared talk back.

She heard the soft slide of leather against metal and
automatically jerked her wrist away from his probing hands. Those weren’t scars
she was willing to share, no matter how complimentary Ryan was being. “I don’t
take them off.”

“Did he give you these?”

“No.” When his eyebrows lifted, she turned her wrist so the
buckles faced away from him. A signal she didn’t want to talk about the
bracelets.

“All right. You can keep these on. For now.” Her chilly skin
began to warm as he patiently stroked his fingers over the other scars marking
her flesh. The intimate touch was pleasant, rousing an unexpected tingle that
bounced around between his touch and her pussy. Her blood heated, melting her
apprehension he would push the issue about the cuffs hiding the skin
underneath.

He moved around in front of her, his fingers slowly
traveling up her body. His thumb and forefinger closed around her nipple,
pinching gently as he rolled it between his fingers. Heat sparked hot, her clit
twitching at the thought of how it would feel to have his fingers pressing
there.

“Close your eyes, Beth.”

Her heart hitched, but she complied, wanting more. As she
started to wonder what he planned, his firm lips brushed against hers. His
tongue caressed her lips, his contact growing more insistent until she finally
parted to open for him.

He nipped at her bottom lip, the sting of his teeth a
delicious agony that caused a tingle to flare to life low in her abdomen. He
seemed to know the effect he had on her body, exploiting her slowly building
arousal by kissing her as if he had no plans for anything more.

Her world narrowed to where he made contact with her mouth
and nipples.

His tongue stroked leisurely into her mouth, the soft hair
on his face tickling her cheeks, chin and lips. Each unhurried stroke of both
his tongue and fingers awakened her body in a way she’d never experienced
before.

His mouth was pure fucking magic.

Her lips burned as he pulled away, her body reaching for him
as her clit began to painfully throb from the lack of attention. She blinked in
astonishment at the foreign sensation of her body aching for more. She thought
she’d wanted him before, but holy hell her clit was thumping in time with her
heartbeat. This heady neediness in the lower half of her body was entirely
foreign to her.

For the first time in her life she felt…wanted.

The corners of his mouth turned up. “Be right back.”

He left her standing there, legs wobbling as he went to a small
wooden chest and knelt. Curious about what secrets the chest held, she watched
as he lifted out a stack of neatly bundled nylon ropes. As he grouped the
bundles together, the pristine white a sharp contrast to the dark-wood
flooring, her stomach tied in knots. Despite her anxiety, she found it almost
impossible to keep her gaze off the cording as he picked up the pile.

Kneeling before her again, he looked up. “Spread your legs a
little for me.”

He began looping one long length, folding the rope over itself
to form a knot. Kneeling, he caressed the inside of her ankle with his thumb
and gently lifted her foot to slide the loops around her skin. The circle
tightened to fit around her ankle before he measured off the length he wanted,
tapping his finger on the inside of her opposite leg to widen her stance. He
formed another set of loops, tied them off and secured them around her other
ankle.

She found herself fascinated as she watched him work. His
face was relaxed, smoothing out the lines at the corners of his eyes. He seemed
to take extreme pride in his careful work. A thrill of anticipation shuddered
through her.

Arriving at the end of the length of rope, he reached for
another piece and tied it off before looping it around her leg. Her body seemed
to come alive with each knot he made. Had she known this was what it felt like
to be tied up by someone who had your best interests in mind, she may have
sought out someone to do this sooner.

Then again, if she had, she wouldn’t have the opportunity to
experience Ryan’s mastery.

Ryan worked quietly, brushing her leg or positioning her
where he wanted as he continued to loop and tie off the knots. His eyes seemed
to glaze over as he continued to work. A calming sensation washed over her as
she realized she’d heard about this in quiet rumblings around the club.

Ropespace.

Ryan’s hand brushed against her face, snapping her back from
her own warm, hazy state. His eyes had cleared and he even wore a bit of a
smile as his thumb brushed over her cheek. He’d woven the rope in a decorative
style around her body, including lifting and separating her breasts. The rope
caused her skin to become so hypersensitive every time she shifted, she felt
rope slide against her naked skin.

As Ryan stepped back to admire his handiwork, Beth realized
she liked seeing the particular look in his eyes. The hunger in his gaze
trumped anything Ethan had ever forced on her. That look enforced the feeling
of safety and security with Ryan. Maybe it even explained why she wanted things
from him she’d never wanted before. He made her want to push on boundaries she
thought were completely off limits because of Ethan and his friends.

He tugged on a cord hanging from the ceiling and two long
strips of vivid blue fabric dropped, the extra length pooling on the ground. As
the shiny fabric unfurled, she wondered what he could possibly have planned for
the strips.

Her answer came a few seconds later when he stepped closer.
He stopped when she was about an arm’s length away, pushing one of the panels
behind him. His hand closed around each of her wrists, lifting her arms so they
were parallel to her body. He began to wrap the fabric around her wrists, right
over her cuffs, using some of the same techniques he’d used with the rope. He
also layered the fabric a few inches each time he circled her forearm,
continuing the process until her arm from wrist to elbow was completely encased
in the fabric.

The dark blue complemented the tan she’d gotten from an
extended trip to her grandparents’ home in southern Florida. He wrapped her
other arm in the same fashion, the luxurious texture of the fabric caressing
her skin, which caused her to sigh softly in pleasure.

“Well, finally some noise. That’s a start, at least.”

She felt her cheeks heat. “Sorry.”

His fingers curled under her chin. “Don’t apologize for
liking something. Ever. Understood? I meant what I said earlier. A personal
challenge.” He winked as his lips twitched.

“Yes Sir.”

He backed away, gesturing. “Now, bend forward and let the
drapes take your weight.” She did as instructed, bracing against the cloth
wrapped around her forearms. The fabric tightened, but only enough to take her
weight, just as he’d said. The knots he’d tied distributed the force so she
felt nothing but the silky fabric. The smooth texture caressed her skin,
gliding against her sensitive flesh to heighten her awareness of her own body.

It layered on the sensations he’d already created with the
rope.

Ryan moved around her, adjusting and moving the rope and
fabric to his satisfaction. He slid his finger under the strands around her
thigh, tugging and pulling. When he stood, she realized he added another piece
of rope to tie her in place and now she couldn’t stand.

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