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"Can I ask you something?" The words tumble out before I can stop them, and I face him, feeling my cheeks heat up. But I hold his gaze, not backing down.
"Sure."
"Have you . . . ever done this kind of thing?" I nod towards the playroom, my heart thudding hard against my chest as I wait for his answer. Of course, he has, you twit.
He pauses as if he's weighing his words. "Yeah, I have. It's intense, not everyone's cup of tea, but it can be mind-blowing."
"Mind-blowing, huh?" I echo, my curiosity buzzing like a live wire.
"Yeah. It's all about the give and take . . . and trust. It's freeing in a weird way.
"I mull over his words, grappling with the thought of surrendering that much control. For a split second, I’m hit with this gut feeling through our bond that he understands me in a way nobody else ever has. That maybe, just maybe, sex could be something good . . . especially with this guy."
"Maybe . . . I could give it a try.” I throw the words out there, watching him for any sign of judgment. A flicker of something, maybe surprise or satisfaction, zips through our bond, but it's so quick I can't be sure.
"Only if you're sure.” His voice is gentle, making me fall in love with him just a little bit. His hand lands softly on my shoulder, grounding me. "And only with someone you trust."
"Like you?" The words are barely a whisper, a question loaded with so much more. I know Jaden's like a switch—one wrong move, and he'll clam up.
His smile is a slow spread of warmth. "If that's what you want, Rayne. Really want."
"My heart's slamming against my ribs as I fix my eyes on the flogging scene playing out in the next room. What's Jaden trying to show me here? What's he think I need to learn from this? Or does he figure I'm some kind of freak? I shoot a look his way, trying to get a read on him, but his face is a closed book."
Jaden's all focused on the scene, but he edges closer till I can feel the heat radiating off his body against mine. He's silent, but his hand sneaks under my dress, his fingers skimming my skin and sparking shivers all over. My breath catches when he gives my nipple a gentle but firm pinch, and it's all I can do not to reach out to him. But I get the vibe he's not about that right now. I end up frozen, arms awkwardly pressed against my chest, not sure where to put them or what to do next.
I can't help but let out a soft moan, even as I struggle with the morality of what we're doing. My past abuse tugs at the edges of my mind, making me tense, but the pleasure Jaden offers is hard to resist. All the while, the sounds of the flogging echo through the room like a siren song, pulling me further into the darkness.
Without warning, he slides onto the couch like it's second nature and tugs me onto his lap, smooth as silk.
"Jaden," I whisper, my voice quivering. His hand glides down, nudging my dress aside with a thrilling and terrifying determination. He doesn't say a word, but there's a fleeting look—a silent command that flashes in his eyes before he's back to watching the scene. “No talking,” he murmurs, barely audible yet laden with an authority that sends another shiver through me.
His fingers tease the edge of my panties, making my pulse race with anticipation. As he pushes them aside and begins to masturbate me, I can't help but watch the flogging intensify in the next room. The woman tied up seems to take pleasure in her pain, and I find myself wondering if I could ever feel the same.
The scene unfolding before me is like a car crash—you can't look away. There's this woman, tied to a St. Andrew’s cross, all exposed and stuff, and this Dom, right out of some BDSM poster, with his leather pants and harness, looking all commanding. He's got two floggers, and man, the way he uses them—it's like he's painting with pain and pleasure. Each crack of the floggers sends this jolt through me, like electricity snapping in the air.
But then, this weird chill crawls up my spine, and my reality comes crashing in. The Dom . . . he reminds me of those creeps who jumped me that night on the street. It's a flicker of a memory, dark and twisted, nothing like the clean-cut, smells-like-heaven Jaden beside me. Thank God for Jaden's pristine hygiene and that trim body. They're like a lifeline right now, pulling me back from the edge of that nasty flashback. I focus on him, on his presence, letting it anchor me in the here and now, away from those shadows.
Yet, there's something undeniably captivating about the scene. The woman's reactions, her moans and gasps, they're real. They're raw. And I can't help but wonder, what's it like to surrender that much? To trust someone to take you to the edge and back? My body's reacting, all tense and alert, and part of me is intrigued, caught up in the strange dance of dominance and submission playing out before my eyes.
The tension inside me ramps up, pushing me to the brink. I'm right there, teetering on the edge of something big. But then, my past traumas grip me tight, denying me the release I'm aching for. It's like being stuck in some twisted limbo, caught between wanting and fearing, not getting any relief from either. A frustrating reality that might be part of the deal with Jaden.
Watching the flogging scene wind down, I'm left hanging, all wound up with nowhere to go. Jaden finally pulls back, his expression giving nothing away. My heart's drumming a mad rhythm, full of pent-up energy and a ton of questions that hang there, unanswered.
"Rayne," Jaden's voice cuts through, soft but clear. "We should go." I can only nod, a mix of relief and regret washing over me as we step out of the viewing room. There's a wildness inside me that's still raging, unchecked. Maybe that's for the best. For now, I'll trail along with Jaden into whatever crazy is waiting for us, not sure what's coming but desperate to figure out this thing between us.
21
JADEN
One month has blurred past since that night watching the scene, the night my power seemed to stake its claim on Rayne. It's not just about want anymore; it's a need that pulses through me. She's become a light in the darkness I'm habitually cloaked in.
Rayne's adaptation to this new life was immediate and fiercely independent. With a brisk efficiency, she carved out her domain, establishing herself as a force to be reckoned with. Her "Sweet," was tinged with a self-assurance that was impossible not to admire, even as she detailed her daily routines with an enthusiasm that was as infectious as it was relentless.
Her days are a whirlwind of visits to Summer, training sessions, and shopping sprees—her acceptance of my fashion advice is both a surprise and a subtle thrill. The notion of caring for someone else used to be a foreign concept, mired in shadows and doubt, but with her, it's different. It's fulfilling in a way that doesn't chafe against my sense of self.
Together, we orchestrated a raid that was nothing short of a masterstroke, thanks to Rayne's insights. Even Sasha, with her hard-earned skepticism, has been charmed by Rayne's tenacity. It's nothing short of miraculous.
Our evenings are spent at the club, observing, learning. Her innate inquisitiveness when watching scenes is captivating. I've always found solace in solitude, my pleasures strictly my own, without the complications of another's presence. But the fantasies of Rayne lost in her own pleasure have become an unexpected delight, a private theater of the mind that I hadn't visited in far too long.
