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He wouldn’t let her talk, just having her breathe and calm down. When she was able to sit back, she was still holding his hands tight, but she could draw a normal breath. He sat on his heels next to her, stroking her bangs, touching her ear and cheek. Stroking that healing cut.
“I like all of it, but it’s so much. I don’t know if I can do anything but look tonight. I’m so sorry…”
“Well, fuck. I signed us up for forced orgasm play as soon as that station opens up.”
Panic stabbed her, and she started to stammer out a what the hell comment. When she noted the amusement in his gaze, mortification grabbed her. “I’m an idiot.” A total unsophisticated idiot, nothing like Tish or anyone else he’d played with here.
“Hey.” The amusement disappeared. He put his knuckles against her cheek, a tender pressure. “That’s the last thing you are, and I better not ever hear you say that again. I shouldn’t have teased you like that. This is a world I’m pretty used to, so it made me say something stupid. Too soon.”
“That’s the problem.” She hiccupped, stammered. “You know this world, this is your world, but how can this be my world, and if I want to be with you…”
“Why do you do that? You immediately assume I want something from you that you can’t deliver.”
“But this…”
“This is a bunch of people with a common interest, but a whole lot of different needs going on. You’re smart enough to see that. Don’t mess up your enjoyment of the view by clouding it with what you think I’ll expect from you.”
His tone told her he wanted her out of her head, paying attention to what he was telling her. “Here’s what I noticed. You have some interest in being restrained, but not necessarily suspended, which is good, because I don’t do rope suspension. Unless it becomes a big interest for you, I don’t like the idea of letting any other Dom do stuff with you, even under my supervision. Spanking and some impact play is really intriguing to you. You like the sensation, the idea of marking, but not hardcore welts and bruising. How am I doing so far?”
She hadn’t realized how closely he’d been watching her at the stations. Which was good, because it might have made her self-conscious. Or not. “I…yes. But—”
“You’re just listening right now. And breathing. Especially breathing.” He tapped her hand once before continuing. “The forced orgasm really sucked you in. It’s an edge play that emphasizes a complete loss of self-control. The deep part of you that responds to that need is tied to a bunch of other shit. That’s where the panic attack started, and I should have seen it.”
His jaw flexed. “You were also looking at Jace and Millie. They’re sitting on the couch, him with his hand between her legs. That intuitive part of you picked up on the trust between them. Every time she’s surrendered control and he’s proven he’ll protect the parts of herself that surrender has revealed, they’ve reached deeper levels of trust. Trust that goes so far down there’s nothing hidden. He sees her, knows her. Loves her. She does the same with him.”
He held her gaze. “Whatever we choose to do together, whatever interests us, I suspect we both want that to be our ultimate goal. Tell me if I got anything wrong.”
Instead of being able to reply, she had to put her hand to her chest as it hitched with a near sob. It came with some pain, an air bubble she had to work around. He closed his arms around her as she shuddered. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I get it.”
“I’m glad you do,” she managed. “Because I don’t. I don’t understand all these feelings, what they mean, where they’re coming from this week.”
“You’ll figure it out.” His lip curled wryly. “Until then, I’m here to create distractions and cause panic attacks.”
“The distraction part I agree with. I caused the panic attack myself. I really do like it here.”
That was part of why it was so unsettling. She never wanted to leave, never wanted to stop looking, thinking, feeling. In this environment, she’d stopped being mortal, transformed into a being of pure sexual energy.
Until she hyperventilated, that is. Her gaze slid past Brick’s shoulder. Though there were people nearby, they had recognized she and Brick were in the middle of something. Averted eyes and keeping their distance had created a cone of privacy that included only the two of them.
Or maybe three. A man was leaning against a pillar a few feet away, watching them closely. When he saw her attention, he dipped his head with respectful courtesy.
“That’s Mick.” Brick didn’t turn, his words telling her he knew the man was there. “In case you passed out, he wanted me to have help close to hand.”
Brick rose and shifted to stand at her side. His hand on her shoulder told her he wanted her to stay sitting.
As Mick closed the few strides between them, Les saw startingly sharp-pupiled eyes with irises that could be brown or blue, the club lighting making it too difficult to determine. His ginger-brown hair, a thick wave of it brushed back from a high forehead and square, strong face, matched the groomed beard. His shoulders and torso under the fitted blue shirt said he was solidly built. While not as tall and broad-shouldered as Brick, that didn’t make him a lean or small man, since most men weren’t Brick’s size.
Mick wore brown slacks with the shirt, which was open at the throat, revealing a silver crucifix. A blade of some kind had left a shiny, mauve scar from his collarbone to a couple inches past the cross’s resting place. On closer inspection she realized the figure on the crucifix wasn’t Jesus. It was a skeleton, and it was hugging the cross, not crucified on it.
“All right?” he asked Brick.
“Yeah, I think so. Just too much all at once.”
Mick squatted in front of her. With a somber look, he produced a fruit and nut bar that included dark chocolate. He also had a juice box, a cheerful-looking kitten printed on it.
“No insult to your age,” he told her. “The small straw encourages a submissive in need of hydration or sugar to take small sips. The box keeps her from spilling any on her clothes.”
“What about the kitten?”
