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“After you, wife,” he murmurs, and opens the door, then gestures inside.
And it’s…
Wow.
I’ve seen a lot of equipment, and played with a lot of toys. But this is beyond opulent when it comes to kink. Dark, jewel-toned tapestries line the white plaster walls, the floor cool black tile. The room has a single skylight in the ceiling, but there are no other windows, and it’s otherwise lit by wall sconces behind the drifting fabric on the walls.
And it’s absolutely full of everything my dirty little heart could wish for.
A chain hangs from the ceiling, with leather cuffs attached to it. There’s a cabinet to the right, and it’s been opened to reveal everything inside: spreader bars, blindfolds, ball gags. I’m stunned at all the things he has set up in here, especially since he seemed so naive when it came to toys when I first got here.
“I thought you were inexperienced,” I blurt out.
“I’m…unique,” he says. “I have my own interests when it comes to physical touch. And I don’t often bring people here.”
“Not often?” I ask. “So how experienced—”
“I want you to tell me you desire this, wife,” he rumbles.
I haven’t looked back at him, but he’s closer than he was before. I can almost feel his touch, though I know it would hurt like a motherfucker. That forcefield would probably knock me the fuck out.
“This…” I shudder as I reach out and touch the cuffs. They’re soft, but firm leather. Nice material. I can already tell how good it’s going to feel biting into my wrists. “You like this stuff.”
Just as much as I do?
“I can smell it on you, but I want to hear it,” Atlas says. “Tell me, Penn—do you want to be my pet for the night?”
I know there’s only one way I’m going to answer this question. Because in my head, I’m already screaming out the thing I want most of all, what I’ve been craving since the first time I laid eyes on this man.
“Yes,” I breathe. “I’ll be your good girl, my husband.”
Atlas exhales sharply, then he breaks the silence of the room.
“Bind her.”
Aelyd males appear on all sides of me, Atlas’ guards putting their hands on my wrists. One roughly pulls my towel away from me and tosses it across the room, and I realize that it’s Corvus standing in front of me, his eyes unreadable, his expression masked. I don’t recognize any of the others, but I can feel their hands all over me as they prepare me for what’s to come. They’re quick and efficient—so quick that I wonder how many times they’ve done this before.
A man kneels behind me and spreads my legs apart, and I feel them fasten leather cuffs around each ankle to keep my legs open. Then there’s Corvus again—locking eyes with me as he twirls around me, then pulling my wrists behind my back. I feel him fasten those cuffs on the ceiling to my wrists, and the way I’m positioned makes me push my breasts out. His chest grazes my nipples, sending desire rocketing through me.
This is really happening, isn’t it?
I’m really going to fuck Atlas.
The spreader bar is shackled to the floor, and I find myself stuck between the ceiling and the cool tile, the light fading in the skylight above. “Leave us,” he murmurs, and footsteps sound before he’s gone.
Once I’m rigged up, I hear a mechanical whir above me, and the chain lowers slightly, allowing some give. I’m just getting comfortable when I feel static on my skin, raising the fine hair on my arms…and then a hand.
I take a shuddering breath, and I hear a sharp exhale behind me.
Atlas is touching me.
He flattens his hand against the small of my back, then it slides upward, pushing me forward. The restraints tug on my wrists, but this is a stretch I’m used to—and it actually feels kind of good on my shoulders, though I’m sure it will ache soon. Atlas’ hand is big and rough, his palm scraping between my shoulder blades.
It’s enough to make my whole body shake, and I let out a whimper.
“Are you comfortable, wife?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble.
“I’m fantastic,” I breathe.
