AllFreeNovel
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It’s the bondage room.
The art of bondage has always fascinated me.
Shibari is what I like best. I especially like the techniques that make a woman’s nipples protrude. I walk through the room, looking at the scenes displayed for my viewing pleasure.
I’m drawn to a scene involving three women. One is clearly the Dominant, and two are submissive. Both of the subs are bound around their breasts, with nipples protruding, standing, their hands bound behind their backs, and the Dominant, dressed in a leather corset and thigh-high boots, teases them with a long feather on their nipples.
Though it’s tempting, and I like what I’m watching, I don’t get aroused.
I am intrigued, though. I would like to try something like that.
I’ve been a member of this club for five years, and for some reason, I’ve never attracted a Dominant skilled in rope bondage. I’m usually bound with leather or handcuffs. I continue to watch as the Dominant teases her two subs. She kneels in front of one of them, slides her tongue over her pussy.
The sub doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge it.
Clearly, she’s been instructed not to.
Then hot breath on my back.
“See something you like?”
I turn, my nipples hard and achy.
Ronan stands there, and he’s not dressed in club gear. He’s dressed in jeans and a button-down, much like the clothes he wore when we were in New Orleans.
He’s going to punish me. He’s going to punish me for ignoring his text, for not being at my apartment when he demanded I be.
At the moment, as I look into his fiery blue eyes, for the life of me I can’t remember why I did.
I say nothing.
“You defied me.”
“I…I’m not your full-time submissive, Ronan,” I say, willing myself to stop stammering.
He won’t raise his voice.
He can’t. In an exhibition room at the club, security is high, and there are rules.
A growl from him vibrates into me.
Then, “Come with me.”
I turn, feeling even more defiant. “No,” I say softly. “I want to stay here.”
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me the first time.” His blue eyes nearly glow in the dim lighting. “I said come with me.”
I stare into his eyes—that blue of the cerulean sky that fires and blazes.
And I put my hand in his, allow him to lead me out of the exhibition room.
“There are no suites available right now,” he says, his voice low, deep, almost menacing.
“I didn’t ask if there were.”
“You want to be with me.”
His words are a statement. A statement that he sees as fact.
