Black Light: Celebrity Roulette, page 27
But, no. They’d been interrupted and now he was irritated because she’d mouthed off. Mood killed. All because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut and say thank you like a normal person.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Great job, Vanessa.
Now her mind wasn’t quiet at all. No, her head was spinning, a million questions passing through as she watched Wyatt start to roll up his shirtsleeves. He was keeping everything so close to his chest, which just made her want to know more. Plus, it felt strange to realize just how much he seemed to know about her — right down to her favorite pointe shoe for performances — while she knew nothing about him.
If Kelsey was here she’d probably be mumbling about how that was just one more piece of evidence proving she was a celebrity. Or that those concerns didn’t really matter because he was hot and she’d lucked the fuck out on a bidder… which was very true. And she’d fucked it up spectacularly.
Rolling her eyes, she almost turned directly into Dominic who was holding up the beautiful Bloch shoes with ribbons sewn into their proper place. Surprised, she managed a small laugh. “Wow, you did a great job, Dominic!”
“Why, thank you.” Dominic bowed with a flourish before standing with a big grin. “Go ahead, love, get them on so you can have your fun.”
Sitting on the floor, Vanessa appreciated the small skirt, because it was just long enough to fall between her thighs and avoid the direct shot several audience members would have received as she bent one knee to start tying the ribbons on.
“I know you guys tend to do all kinds of crazy things to your shoes to get them comfortable, but just remember tonight is more about the look. Okay?” Dominic seemed worried she’d start cutting at the sole, burning the edges, and breaking it in while sitting on the floor of Black Light and the idea made her laugh under her breath.
“I understand what this is all for. I just hope he’s still interested after I was so ungrateful.” She finished tying on the second set of ribbons and held out her hand for him to help her up.
Dominic glanced up at the platform and then winked at her as he pulled her upright. “Oh, I think he’s still very interested. Why don’t you remind him what you can do, eh?”
Right. Wyatt hadn’t invested so much in bidding for her time, the barre equipment, and the shoes, if he wasn’t a fan of the ballet. He’d seen her perform at the Dudorov, knew so much about her… but he’d never seen her up close or when she was just having fun. With a big grin, she spun away from Dominic, going en pointe for a quick bourrée en couru, before pirouetting and then shifting into an arabesque. Turning to face the platform, she couldn’t hide her smile as Wyatt stared, mouth slightly open as she did an échappé and then worked her way through other moves as she curved closer and closer to the foot of the steps, finishing the brief improvised routine with a jeté. A leap that brought a round of applause from their gathered audience, and a smile to his face before she curtseyed and dropped into a kneel at the bottom step.
Vanessa kept her head bowed as her heart raced, already feeling how the stiffness of the shoes had strained her feet — but that was nothing new. All that mattered was whether or not she’d fixed her faux pas and un-ruined their night.
“That was… incredible.” Wyatt’s shoes came into view on the stairs, and she raised her eyes to see him smiling. “Thank you, Vanessa. Now, I think we need to get you on this platform and some marks on your ass before Elijah gets irritated with us, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir!” she answered, happy to know that he didn’t hold a grudge. Vanessa took his offered hand and climbed the steps, once again impressed by the beautiful craftsmanship on the free-standing barre. Two light wood poles hung at the correct heights between large wooden triangles. She traced one of the bars in awe. “Wow… this looks so beautiful. And seriously heavy.”
“Tyler did tell me it was going to be a bitch to move around, but I was more interested in how secure it would be.”
“Secure?”
“For all the terrible things I’m about to do to you.” That grin was back, and he stepped forward to catch her by the back of the neck, his fingers slowly weaving into her hair before they tightened into a fist. “Now, be a good girl, Vanessa, and put your hands on the top bar.”
Chapter 5
Wyatt
This wasn’t a wet dream, but it might as well be.
Vanessa Novak had actually danced for him, up close, on the fucking floor of Black Light. When he’d bid on her, he had hoped to see her use all that power and grace to show him a few moves, especially once she had the shoes… but she’d done much more than that. Vanessa had performed what could have been a solo in any ballet lucky enough to feature her. And now she was bent over with her hands on the barre, her bare ass peeking out from under that pale pink skirt like she’d pirouetted straight out of one of his fantasies. Distracting as hell, and he was having trouble getting his brain back in gear for the scene. Hell, half the people standing around the platform were still stunned into silence. But he’d known before the night even started that Vanessa would impress them — he just hadn’t expected it to be with her skills as a dancer. It was a good thing, though. Nice to see them looking at her in awe instead of just leering at another beautiful woman on display tonight.
That wasn’t what he wanted for her. It wasn’t what she deserved.
She deserved to be cherished, to be seen for all the talent and skill she had and be respected for it… but she also needed to be treated like the little pain slut she was. And that made this more like a wet dream than anything else, because tonight he had the privilege to be the one wielding the implements.
The dark leather cuffs on her wrists made his cock twitch, and although she could stand up all the way he had ordered her to stay bent at the hips, her feet in one of those ballet positions as if it were a habit she couldn’t break. Fighting the urge to chuckle out loud, he just smiled. “Spread your feet a bit.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered, jumping her feet out en pointe for a moment before dropping her heels to the floor.
Oh, yes. The pointe shoes had been worth the expense.
Plus, he planned on just donating the other sizes to one of the schools that worked with underprivileged kids, so… it really was a good investment either way. Some positive karma, and an incredibly hot submissive to torment, complete with fantasy-validating outfit.
Who says money can’t buy happiness? Or, at least a few hours of it…
Focus, dammit.
“Such a good girl.” He stepped up behind her and flipped the little skirt onto her back, exposing her ass and just a hint of the pretty pink folds he’d barely brushed before Dominic had interrupted them. He’d get his chance again soon… very soon, but first he needed to make her scream. “What’s your safe word, Vanessa?”
“Red, sir.” She shimmied a little, her ass wiggling, and he allowed himself the chuckle.
“That’s right.” Bringing his arm back, he landed a spank that wouldn’t have been considered a warm-up by anyone. Vanessa gasped, and he delivered another. His hand was already stinging, but he got to admire the perfect outline of his hand on her olive skin for a moment while she whined and gave another wiggle of her round ass. The audience perked up, drawing closer as he braced his other hand on the small of her back and continued his version of a warm-up for the masochist.
Wyatt hadn’t tried to keep count of each swat, but by the time her ass was a vibrant pink he estimated it had been… a lot. His own hand fucking hurt, but it was worth it to deliver the first marks skin-to-skin. To feel her body jerk with the impact, to feel the heat of her ass. It was more personal, but it would never make Vanessa Novak scream or cry.
“How you holding up?” he asked, grinning as he lifted his suit jacket off the implements he’d hidden.
“Just fine, sir.” Her voice was breathy, and he glanced back in time to see her shifting her weight from foot to foot in a futile attempt to ease the pink marks that had her ass glowing. She’d barely made a peep during the spanking, but as he picked up the double loopy johnny he couldn’t help but grin. She’d said she liked leather, and maybe he’d reward her with it… but first he’d get her to make all those pretty noises he’d been jealous of in the past.
“I’m so glad,” he said softly, running his fingers over the warm skin on her ass before resting his palm on the small of her back again. “Hold position for me, or you’ll just add more to this.”
“Add more to—” The first swat of the loopy johnny cut her off, and one of her hands came off the bar, accompanied by the lovely clatter of chain keeping her tethered. “Fuck!” she cried out, shaking her head as she held position.
Impressive.
“You’ve had a bit of trouble since the event started remembering to call me ‘sir,’ but I have a feeling this is going to help. Don’t you?” Another snap of the vinyl-coated steel loops formed twin curved welts on the round of her ass, so beautiful that before she could even answer he landed another strike a little lower.
* * *
Vanessa
“Sir!” she whined, not even sure what she wanted to say, she just needed to make some kind of noise as the next lash of the demonic implement set her ass on fire. “Oh God, oh fuck…”
“So pretty. Especially when they overlap.” Wyatt was definitely enjoying himself as he delivered another wicked strike, and then another, and another. Vanessa had her teeth clenched against the urge to let go of even more obscenities with each spike of pain, but she knew she had to hold on. This was the path of coals, the suffering before nirvana, and Wyatt was the first Dom she’d played with at Black Light that had ever come out of the gate this strong. Even the spanking had been harder than she’d expected. He might be quiet, soft-spoken, but she’d sensed a darker side to him that hid behind his clean-cut appearance. An edge when he’d first held her by the throat and looked almost… hungry. For this.
“Fucking hell, please, sir!” The whimpers were impossible to bite back as the implement wrapped to the bottom of her ass. “What the hell is that thing?”
“This?” Wyatt taunted, delivering another hard swat that brought the sting of tears to her eyes, causing her to arch her back in a desperate attempt to ease the rising wave of pain. “It’s called a double loopy johnny. I think they used to use something like this as a rug beater? Personally, I think it works very well on a submissive’s ass. Especially when that submissive is a masochist who thinks that she has the right to criticize how a Dom chooses to spend his money.”
He punctuated the reprimand with another brutal strike, and she screamed, “I’m sorry, sir!”
“That’s good.” Wyatt’s voice held a sadist’s joy for his work, but at least the fucking loopy johnny didn’t slice through the air again. Instead, she felt his hand stroke down her welted ass, squeezing just a little too hard to be soothing as he spoke again. “Tell me, how far down on your thighs can you hide marks?”
“What?” She tried to look over her shoulder, while also keeping her feet planted where he’d told her to, but it wasn’t easy. “Sir?”
“Your ass is going to be black and blue by the end of the night if I don’t get to spread things around a little. So, how far down your thighs can the marks go before it might cause an issue during your practices?” He slid his hand down and pinched her sit spot. “Here?”
Vanessa hissed air in through her teeth, because she was quite sure one of those last strokes had hit that exact spot, which made her affirmative pointless. Still, she had to answer. “That’s fine, sir.”
“Good. What about here?” This time Wyatt pinched a couple of inches down, still painful enough to make her squirm, but she nodded. “And here?”
The next pinch was halfway down her thigh and she wavered. There were a few pairs of tights thick enough to hide marks, but in class they couldn’t wear the more casual ballet onesies that would have the shorts-style bottom. “I’m sorry, sir, but…”
“No?” he asked, his voice light and unconcerned.
“No, sir.”
“That’s all right, we know it hurts more up here anyway.” Without warning, he laid the loopy johnny across her sit spot, the lower arc of fire coming just to the point she’d agreed. Sometime after the scream, amidst the cursing and whining, she recognized the skill it took to apply an implement with that level of accuracy — and she appreciated it, and his concern for her privacy.
It was just hard to say that aloud when she was digging her already ragged nails into the wood of the barre as another lash landed, perfectly placed. “Fucking shit, fucking hell!”
“What’s wrong, Vanessa? Did that sting?” he mocked.
She opened her mouth to snap at him, but he was suddenly beside her, tilting her chin up with a firm grip, and all of the vitriol at the tip of her tongue seemed to fade away. Wyatt looked… different in the middle of a scene. His eyes were alive with energy, his cheeks a shade brighter, and the grin he wore spoke of devilish plans that left her utterly speechless.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered as he brushed a thumb over the damp trails on her cheeks before dragging the lingering taste of salt over her lips. “I think you’re ready to fly now. You want me to bring you over the edge, Vanessa?”
“Sir?” she whispered, fuzzy headed as she stared into his hazel eyes, vibrant and clear.
“Do you want me to whip your ass with a strap until you fly off into subspace?”
“Please, sir?” she begged, holding onto the eye contact like a lifeline as he bit his lip and let out a low groan.
“Say it again,” he commanded as he dropped the evil implement to the floor and crouched — face to face, eye to eye, while he traced his thumb just under her lip. “Now.”
Swallowing, she obeyed. “Please, sir.”
A hungry growl rumbled in Wyatt’s chest as his touch turned rough, fisting her hair, and then he kissed her. Hard. It was fiery, burning brighter than any of the flashes of pain she’d felt before. All she could do was hold onto the barre as their tongues clashed. Unable to stifle the moan that hummed in her throat, Vanessa gave in. To the kiss, to the heat, and to Wyatt. Everything buzzed as he nipped her lips, her tongue, before diving deep into the kiss again. All she wanted was for him to touch her again, to finish what they’d started, because the cool air between her thighs said she was more than ready for him to do whatever he wanted to her. She just needed more.
As if he’d heard her internal pleas, he suddenly pulled back and she whined, meeting his gaze where the black of his pupils had almost completely swallowed the mesmerizing mix of brown and green. Proof that he wanted her just as much, even as he pulled back further.
“Dammit, you’re dangerously distracting.” Wyatt laughed, hazel eyes blazing as he swept her hair out of her face and bit down on his lip again. “You still want to fly?”
“Whatever you want, sir,” she whispered, and he groaned and stood. The erection pressing against the front of his pants promised a lot of fun. ‘Soon,’ she promised herself, but first he was going to try and put her over the edge into subspace. She just had to actually let go.
Wyatt walked away towards his toy bag, and Vanessa took a deep breath. Pain was a fleeting thing, something that just had to be accepted, walked through to get to the other side. Kelsey knew better than anyone that it was something you did every day as a dancer, but whereas Kelsey had always been able to translate that into an easy stride into subspace at clubs — she always said that Vanessa fought it. That she didn’t let go of the constant stream of thoughts in her head long enough to, well… fly.
Butter-soft leather stroked down her spine and she almost purred, twisting to see the strap in Wyatt’s hand as he took up position on her opposite side this time. It was thick, and she knew it would thud and sting in the best ways. Another deep breath and she relaxed, letting her muscles go soft, ready and waiting.
“All you have to do is take it, Vanessa. Nothing more. Just focus on the sensation.” His voice was warm as he trailed the leather over her ass, back and forth, a thrumming buzz along already hyper-sensitive nerves. “You’ve already made my night, beautiful, all you have to do now is breathe.”
The first lash from the strap hurt because it overlaid so many welts, but it hadn’t actually been very hard. Still, she whined as the next came just below, back tense, she forced her hands to relax on the bar.
“That’s it. Focus on the warmth of the leather, the snap, and ride the wave. You’re such a good girl, Vanessa…” Wyatt’s voice was soft, a lulling hum that bled into her ears and she held onto it.
With her next breath, the strap cracked against her ass, bringing with it a spike of sweet torment that slowly spread into the heat of her skin. The next lash melted into it, along with the next, and the next, until each pulse of pain shimmered along her nerves. A sultry buzz that inched up her spine, along her ribs, wrapping around to her front until she could only hear the whisper of leather cutting through the air and the pop of it landing as her breaths grew slower.
Such a good girl…
A hazy purr filled her mind, lost in the ebb and flow of each new lash as his words echoed in her head. Good girl. Breathe. She obeyed, breathing in light that stretched to the tip of every nerve ending. Shining and golden. Everything was perfect, a delirious drone of sensation that wrapped her in bone-deep warmth and a feeling of safety. A place to let go and fall without fear of a crash.
A place to fly.
Vanessa floated, content to be lost in the darkness behind her eyes — but then there was the pulse. It started out small, a tiny thrumming beat between her thighs as all the warmth and golden light burning her blood in the best of ways found a home. Then it grew stronger, more insistent, a needy thump thump thump as her clit pulsed with each beat of her heart. She tensed as the zing of pleasure spread fast, finding the points of her nipples trapped inside the soft fabric of her bra, and moving on until it drew a soft sound from her throat.
