AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’ve wondered into the rope room, somehow not really seeing anything or anyone until the moment I’m standing right before Colt
on. Everything around me comes into focus. Sight. Sound. And scent.
I need touch.
Sitting at the table where I left him earlier this evening, his wide, blue gaze hard on me, it’s as if he’s trying to keep as still as possible. Like the next move is mine.
“I want it,” I say. “Now.”
He’s pushing off the seat and moving toward me as soon as the last, desperate word leaves my mouth. A fleeting sense of panic races through me as he stalks closer. He stops before me, his body crowding the small span of air keeping us separated. My feet feel too heavy to pick up, to step away. To flee.
That heaviness travels slowly over the rest of me, until it reaches my eyelids, and I close my eyes. Giving myself over to him.
“Look at me.” His husky words are laced with restraint and lust.
I force my eyes open and stare into his. Don’t blink. My breath staggers past my lips, uneven.
“I won’t regret anything.” He raises his hand out to the side, palm open, a waiting invitation for me to accept. “And if we do this, neither will you.”
The conviction of his promise whirls around me in a haze of apprehension. The offer to the next step, my own discovery, resting in his outstretched hand. Not a handshake among business partners; an agreement between lovers. One touch to seal the deal.
I slip my hand into his.
And watch as his eyes squeeze closed, his face contorting as if he’s in pain—but that’s not quite it. It’s more…pure. Relief. He yearns for me as badly as I crave him.
His fingers fasten around my hand, anchoring me to him, a short, revealing moment where I can almost turn back, before he’s marching through the room, pulling me behind him. The strength of his grip and his urgent steps force all doubt from my mind. And when we stop before a door, I’m filled with need. The anticipation drowning out any alarm.
He keeps ahold of my hand as he reaches into his pocket with the other and brings out a set of keys. I stay quiet as he unlocks the door, not asking why there are locked rooms in the club. Why he has the keys. Who uses the rooms…
I follow him inside.
The air vacates my lungs in a chest-crushing exhale.
Gleaming silver fetish toys line the wall. Clamps. Chains. Leather. A red cane is prized and center. Ropes of all shades, widths, sizes coil against the black, dangle from above. At the far end, a St. Andrew’s cross.
A torture chamber.
Colton must sense my unease, because his hand tightens around mine as he leads me deeper into the room. “This is my personal…space.” He turns to face me, his mouth a hard line, eyebrows furrowed. “I’m more of a collector than a Dom, Sadie. My passion is bondage, ropework in particular. So don’t let the decoration intimidate you. Or scare you.”
Intimidate? No…that’s the wrong word. Scare? Not powerful enough to express the sickening fear invading my soul. This is a dungeon—too similar to the one where I was sealed away in for days…lost. Helpless. Stripped of my self.
And though it’s frustrating to be so confused, so torn over the lure I feel toward bondage, there is no mistake that I will never be a victim again.
I control this. I have to.
“Sadie,” Colton says, his voice raw, aching.
I suck in a steadying breath and look up to meet his intense gaze. “A monster shouldn’t fear her element,” I say. “I’m just so fucked up.”
He moves so quickly, my breath catches, my body frozen. His hand releases me only to grasp my face, his palm firm against my cheek, thumb braced over my chin. “What happened tonight?” His icy gaze traces the contours of my face, analyzing my tells. “What’s the trigger that pushed you here, into my arms, Sadie?”
Holding his stare, I give nothing away. I’m trained to know how to control my features, but my head is screaming just to let go. “Nothing,” I say. “It’s just time that I—”
“Bullshit,” he bites out, and I flinch against his hold.
Licking my lips, I savor the coarse feel of his palm on my skin. “The crime scene,” I start. “It should disgust me. Cord banding the victim’s wrists…ankles. Limbs stretched and aching…the tightening of the binding until your will evaporates. The feel of hands touching, taking…pressure—” I break off and attempt to look away, but Colton holds me firmly in place. “I should hate it. Loathe it. But I don’t. I desire it so deeply…it hurts. And I like the pain.”
A low growl rumbles from deep within Colton’s chest. His hand clamps harder to my face as he moves in closer, no more separation between us. “There’s nothing wrong with you, goddess. Just the absolute tragedy that I didn’t make you mine first.”
