Black Light: Celebrity Roulette, page 31
“Alright, so talk to me while I’m getting you all tied up. Why did you pick ballet?” He’d warmed up his rope skills as he’d worked, so the first tie on her ankle didn’t take long at all, and he swatted her ass when she stayed quiet. “Answer me. You don’t want to know what I can do with that anal hook, little whore.”
“I don’t know. I just always loved to dance, sir.” She wiggled a little and as he spread her thighs wider to get her positioned where he wanted, and he could smell her arousal. It was so fucking tempting, but he just had one more damn tie and then he could taste her.
“Why did you stick with it though?” he asked. Trailing his fingers up her other calf, he held onto the pointe shoe, squeezing firmly. “With all the consequences of pushing your body that hard, to make your body capable of doing all those jetés, arabesques, pirouettes, and bourrée en couru? Strong enough to do a développé? Why keep going?”
Just as he straightened her leg out, she twisted to look at him over her shoulder, and showed just how flexible she was as she bent her leg back towards her body with inhuman grace. She grinned as she let her leg relax into the proper position for the tie. “Showing off your knowledge, sir?”
“You think I wasn’t going to look up the proper term for that incredible move from your bio?” He chuckled as he started the last tie, pushing the desperate ache of his cock to the back of his mind. “Come on, answer me.”
“I guess I do it for the same reason everyone does things that are hard, sir.” Vanessa relaxed back onto the table, resting her cheek on the padded top. “It makes me happy. Just this pure rush of turning your body into a piece of music… there’s nothing else like it.”
Wyatt paused as he threaded the last ropes through the loops, spending more time than he needed to ensure the ropes were straight, and the decorative knot the same size as the others. It wasn’t complicated, but what she’d said was important — and it deserved at least a moment of attention before he lost all higher-level thinking skills. “That’s a beautiful way to describe it.”
“Thank you, sir,” she replied softly, and he stepped back to admire her for a moment. Trussed up and laid out like a feast, Vanessa Novak was every inch the fantasy he’d imagined. The pale pink rope matched the tiny ballet skirt, which was flipped up above her ass and held in place by the shining steel of the anal hook. Smooth, olive-toned skin was everywhere, except for her ass where the dark loop-shaped bruises and the broad welts from the strap still showed.
“Almost ready, naughty girl.” He grinned as he palmed the little bullet vibe. “How are those nipple clamps feeling?”
She adjusted, rolling each of her shoulders until she finally relaxed against the tabletop again. “Achy, sir.”
“Ah, someone seems to have learned to watch their tongue.” Grabbing her by the hips, he pulled her backwards slowly until she was right where he wanted. “You know, after all of your little protests”—he traced a finger down through her slit, barely touching her clit—“you are very, very wet.”
“Please, sir,” she begged, and he almost threw the rest of his plan out the window just to feel her wrapped around his cock, but he managed to take a deep breath and slide two fingers exactly where he wanted to be. The soft moan she released was absolute fucking torture, but the best kind. “Oh God, yes, please?”
“Such a good girl.” Curving his fingers down, he started to thrust slowly, searching for that certain spot where he’d feel her body react.
And then a shout came from the main stage area, “No fair! You aren’t worthy to be with Mistress Ice!”
Fucking hell, really?
“What’s going on?” Vanessa asked, lifting her head, and Wyatt wanted to put a ball gag on whoever the fuck had just shouted. He’d had her so close to letting go of all the busy thoughts in her head, and then—
“Her name is Mistress!” The idiot at the front of the small crowd shouted again. Wyatt could see Santiago moving in to drag the fucker away from the scene, but that wasn’t going to fix the problem with his submissive.
“It’s okay, baby. Just an idiot trying to interrupt Mistress Ice’s scene with Nolan, and that’s a mess neither of us need to pay attention to.” Wyatt realized what he’d said and froze with his hand on her ass. Dammit, fuck! He’d called her ‘baby’ on reflex, just trying to soothe her concern, and he did not need any other distractions when everything was about to go according to plan. “I think what we’re doing is much more interesting.”
“But what—” Before she could continue, he flipped the little vibrator on and held it directly to her clit. Her whole body jerked, which also meant the anal hook got a nice tug, and a few seconds later Vanessa wasn’t doing anything other than grinding against the little vibe. “Sir, oh my God, please!”
Kneeling at the edge of the table, he dragged the bullet up to her pussy, teasing her entrance before he pushed it inside. She instantly bucked again, and he listened to her moans escalate as he leaned forward and dragged his tongue from clit to hook.
“Fuck, sir! PLEASE!” Her shout drew attention, and he could hear the buzz of people moving closer, but he didn’t care at all as he tasted her. He alternated between focusing on her clit until he could feel her thighs trembling, and then dipping his tongue inside her cunt. Sweet and tart, a taste that was going to haunt his fucking dreams if he never got to touch her again, which was the wrong thing to be thinking. But, as if she knew just what he needed, the next time he focused on her clit she suddenly came hard. Crying out, shuddering, and he licked her again and again, until she was whimpering, pleading, and her words made it into his ears. “Sir, please, fuck me, or let me taste you. Please let me taste you? God, please, just something.”
Definitely not an offer you ignore.
Standing, he saw her twisted slightly so that she could see him, and the bright flush in her lips and cheeks made his decision for him. “You want to taste me, beautiful?”
“God, yes,” she moaned, hips shifting because the little bullet vibe was still going, and he followed the cord to the tiny plastic control in his hand. Grinning, he left it in, setting the control box on the small of her back, and then he turned her on the table so he could have access to either end of his bound ballerina.
There was nothing graceful about fumbling with his dress belt, but her eyes lit up when he slid it free from the loops. “Such a little masochist. Like belts?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered, but her eyes were focused a little below where his belt had been. “Please?” she begged again, and he groaned.
“You’re going to fucking kill me if you keep begging like that.” Moving closer, he opened his pants, slowly sliding the zipper down, and then he used both hands to sweep the hair back from her face, winding it into one hand to help keep her head up. Then he shoved his boxers out of the way and finally wrapped his fist around his cock. It was a full body shiver, only made worse by the way Vanessa wet her lips and opened her mouth. “I’m in control. Got it, little whore?”
“Yes, sir!” With her mouth open, tongue waiting for his cock, it was a goddamned miracle he didn’t pop off like a teenager. The only hope he had was for him to stay in control, and that meant easing in. Slow.
An electric shudder moved up his spine as he first slid over her tongue, so wet and warm when she sealed her lips around his shaft, and he tightened his grip as he eased back and forth just the first couple of inches. Still, Vanessa was moving her tongue along every hypersensitive ridge, and he could feel the buzzing hum of her moan as her hips started to wiggle again. “Jesus…” he groaned, pushing in deeper.
He’d bound her for the fun of it, to restrict her movement and force her to rely on him, to trust him, to submit so that she could let go. But he had not planned appropriately on what the visual would do to him. His hips twitched forward, seeking more, and he lost all hope of going slow. Wyatt fed her every inch she could take, testing the back of her throat, and even pushing for just a moment until he felt her swallow and almost came.
“Bad girl,” he growled as he jerked his hips back. Staring down at her swollen lips, the bright flush in her cheeks, and the defiant little tongue that she held out as if taunting him to try again, he shook his head. “I’m not coming down your throat, little whore. I’m about to fuck you, any objections?”
“No, sir,” she answered, grinning, and he dug in his pants pocket for a condom. Holding up the wrapper so she could see it before he let go of her hair.
The walk around the damn table was the longest of his life, as was the suddenly complicated process of getting the fucking foil wrapper to open so he could slide the condom on, but then he was standing behind her. Hands on Vanessa’s hips as he tugged her over the edge of the table just enough to let her lay her head down. “Ready?” he asked, tugging the little vibe out of her to palm it.
“Please, sir!”
As if he needed her to beg right now, any more of that and he’d need to gag her just to last long enough to enjoy it. Next time he’d let her suck him earlier in the night. That would have been smart. Unless there wasn’t a next time? You’re thinking too much. He needed to focus on her enjoying this so there could be a next time. Shut up, shut up, shut up!
There was only one way to get the anxiety to go away, and Elijah had told him that trick at the beginning of the night. She was soaking wet, which made it easy to line up and push forward. Each inch was perfection, and when he pulled back and thrust deep everything went quiet.
No one else. Just her. Unbelievable and absolutely perfect.
Chapter 10
Vanessa
“God yessss,” she moaned as he slid inside her, filling her in a way the little vibrator couldn’t. That had been a tease, a taunt, and this was… this was everything. Each full thrust shoved the anal hook deeper, and the double penetration was mind-blowing. “Sir, please! More?” she cried out, begging, unabashed.
“Come for me,” Wyatt growled, and then she felt the buzzing bullet slide through her folds before it found her clit just as he slammed in, forcing his cock and the hook in at the same time — she didn’t stand a chance.
The orgasm hit her hard, blanking her mind with bright ecstasy for one glorious moment until it fractured and sent light careening to the end of every nerve ending, only to grant a million tiny explosions that had her straining against the ropes. Whimpering and moaning as she shivered, slowly becoming aware of her body again, only to find Wyatt still moving inside her. The perfect size to give her that little ache with each deep thrust, but no pleasure-distracting pain. It was all good, all wonderful, raw joy as he teased her with brushes of the vibe against her clit. Taunting her as she murmured pleas for… something. “Sir, oh God, please, please!”
“Such a good girl, Vanessa. So beautiful, come on. Come again.” The little bullet found its mark once more, and she couldn’t tell if the cry made it past her lips, or only existed in her mind, because everything seemed to invert. It wasn’t as powerful, but it was still too much. Overwhelming chaos storming through her nervous system, a shining wave of pleasure that stole the air from her lungs and left her blood humming. Just… absolute bliss, capped off with the incredible feeling of his cock jerking deep inside her as Wyatt groaned behind her.
She was still shivering as he rocked against her ass, all of the welts a flickering memory of sensation, but she was very aware of his warmth draped across her back. The gentle kisses brushed across her back, her bound arms, as she lay limp and satisfied on the table. “Thank you, sir. Thank you…”
“You’re incredible,” he whispered against her spine, and then she felt him stand up, the warmth leaving her completely as he stepped back.
“Sir?” she twisted, trying to see him, and then he stood upright again and she saw Weston walking away from them. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course, beautiful. Let’s get you out of all this.” Wyatt started to rub her arms, and then she felt the medical scissors sliding between her skin and the rope.
“Wait! You don’t need to destroy the rope!” Twisting, she saw him glance at her with a serious expression on his face and she sighed. “Sir, I just don’t want you to waste the rope.”
“Didn’t we talk earlier about not telling a Dom how to spend his money?” The fleeting seriousness left his face as he chuckled. “I do not have the energy to untie all this, I’m cutting it. It’s my choice, because I want you in my arms and comfortable faster. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered, laying her cheek against the padded table as he continued cutting rope away. She had to admit, it took a hell of a lot less time to be free of the ropes as he deftly cut pieces and unwound them.
“Alright, up on your knees and lean back towards me a little.”
She obeyed, still focusing on the pretty rope marks pressed into her skin, until she felt him tug at the anal hook and instantly tensed. “Sir—”
“Vanessa, relax. Now.” The stern edge of his voice had her submitting, even though she closed her eyes as she felt him slowly pull the hook free. It hurt again as it passed the widest point, but his quiet, “Now push,” freed her of it.
“God, my ass hurts,” she grumbled, listening to him chuckle just before a warm cloth passed between her legs, and then over her tender ass.
“I’m definitely enjoying the view,” Wyatt replied. “And I’m sure it only partially has to do with all of these gorgeous marks, or that the hook made your ass sore.”
“I can hear you trying not to laugh, sir.” She attempted to sound serious, but when Wyatt smacked her ass and laughed anyway, she ended up laughing as well. Post-orgasmic hysteria, or something. Sitting up on the padded table, she watched as he tossed random implements in his bag, piling the rope in one spot, and then Weston handed him a robe and he held it open for her.
“Come here, beautiful. There’s still a few minutes left.” With that kind of invitation, she couldn’t have resisted even if she wanted to. The robe was fluffy and warm, like it had recently been in a dryer, and as soon as they walked the few steps down to the main floor, Wyatt scooped her up.
“Showing off again, sir?” she asked, grinning as he settled onto an empty couch near their platform and tucked her into his lap.
“I’m well aware I have nothing on the guys you work with. I’d need to go to the gym more than once a week if I wanted to lift you like they do, but yeah, I was showing off a bit.” Wyatt brushed her cheek, and then dragged his thumb just below her mouth. “And I really want to kiss you again.”
“I’d like that, s—” His lips were on hers before she could finish agreeing, their tongues warring as she held onto his shirt, trying to pull him closer to her. But he understood, like he seemed to understand most things about her, and he held her tighter.
They’d already had sex, but now they were making out like teenagers, on a couch in the middle of Black Light, and it was somehow still thrilling. In a different way, not necessarily better or worse, but she did like being able to touch him.
Although, the rope bondage had been fucking hot.
Wyatt was a unique mixture of quiet and intense. He was absolutely a sadist, but also an absolute gentleman. A conundrum that she wanted to know more about, even as time was ticking down.
He nipped her lip and pulled back from the kiss. “You’re thinking again, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged, and then groaned. “Shit, sorry, yes, sir.”
He laughed, light and easy. “Play is over, beautiful. No need.”
“Oh, okay.” She tried to smile, but knew it was going to come across awkward so she dropped it and looked to where the crowd was gathered by the main stage. Piper was riding the guy who had bid on her, and he was tied to a fucking chair. Pointing, she spoke quietly, “Whoa, look at that.”
Wyatt turned to glance at the stage, and then he made a snorting sound. “I would have bet money that would have never happened, but apparently I would have lost.”
“Huh?”
“That’s Nolan. Some bigshot guy in movies, but he’s definitely not a switch.” Wyatt shrugged. “Or maybe he is, I’m not judging. I’ve just had some conversations with him here at Black Light, and I wouldn’t have thought he’d be into it.”
“Maybe he’s exploring,” Vanessa suggested, but she tore her eyes from the blatant voyeurism and caught Wyatt’s eyes. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” he answered, smiling at her as he tucked hair behind her ear.
“Earlier… you said that Kelsey is right about me fighting subspace. But I hit it with you, I swear—”
“I know you did, that wasn’t why I agreed with her.” Wyatt leaned back on the couch, the smile still lingering on his lips like the discussion didn’t bother him at all.
“Then why say that?”
“Because you’re like me,” he replied, and then dropped his head back to take a deep breath. “How do I explain this… it’s that you can’t just let go and turn your brain off. You’re too wound up, too focused, too driven — so it doesn’t happen easily. You fight subspace, because giving up control is scary.”
She felt a flush in her cheeks, embarrassment or some similar emotion. It was like he was accusing her of being a bad submissive, even though she knew that’s not what he meant. Really, the problem was she didn’t understand what he meant at all. Frustrated, she sighed. “But I didn’t fight it with you, right? Or, did I?”
“At first you did, but then I figured out how to help you let go.” He leaned forward to kiss her, just a tease compared to their make-out session, but it left her lips buzzing when he broke it. “You just need the right distractions, Vanessa. The right set of circumstances so that your only solution is to release all those busy thoughts, all of that mental chaos, and let things happen.”
“Like the kiss, and the bondage.”
“Exactly.” He nodded, slowly interlacing their fingers before he snuck a mischievous glance at her. “And the degradation, you respond very well to that.”
“Thanks, I think?”
“It’s just another kink, and I happen to find it very hot. No trouble at all to call you a dirty little slut when I’m bending you over for something fun.” Wyatt laughed and she did too, because it had been really hot.
“I don’t know. I just always loved to dance, sir.” She wiggled a little and as he spread her thighs wider to get her positioned where he wanted, and he could smell her arousal. It was so fucking tempting, but he just had one more damn tie and then he could taste her.
“Why did you stick with it though?” he asked. Trailing his fingers up her other calf, he held onto the pointe shoe, squeezing firmly. “With all the consequences of pushing your body that hard, to make your body capable of doing all those jetés, arabesques, pirouettes, and bourrée en couru? Strong enough to do a développé? Why keep going?”
Just as he straightened her leg out, she twisted to look at him over her shoulder, and showed just how flexible she was as she bent her leg back towards her body with inhuman grace. She grinned as she let her leg relax into the proper position for the tie. “Showing off your knowledge, sir?”
“You think I wasn’t going to look up the proper term for that incredible move from your bio?” He chuckled as he started the last tie, pushing the desperate ache of his cock to the back of his mind. “Come on, answer me.”
“I guess I do it for the same reason everyone does things that are hard, sir.” Vanessa relaxed back onto the table, resting her cheek on the padded top. “It makes me happy. Just this pure rush of turning your body into a piece of music… there’s nothing else like it.”
Wyatt paused as he threaded the last ropes through the loops, spending more time than he needed to ensure the ropes were straight, and the decorative knot the same size as the others. It wasn’t complicated, but what she’d said was important — and it deserved at least a moment of attention before he lost all higher-level thinking skills. “That’s a beautiful way to describe it.”
“Thank you, sir,” she replied softly, and he stepped back to admire her for a moment. Trussed up and laid out like a feast, Vanessa Novak was every inch the fantasy he’d imagined. The pale pink rope matched the tiny ballet skirt, which was flipped up above her ass and held in place by the shining steel of the anal hook. Smooth, olive-toned skin was everywhere, except for her ass where the dark loop-shaped bruises and the broad welts from the strap still showed.
“Almost ready, naughty girl.” He grinned as he palmed the little bullet vibe. “How are those nipple clamps feeling?”
She adjusted, rolling each of her shoulders until she finally relaxed against the tabletop again. “Achy, sir.”
“Ah, someone seems to have learned to watch their tongue.” Grabbing her by the hips, he pulled her backwards slowly until she was right where he wanted. “You know, after all of your little protests”—he traced a finger down through her slit, barely touching her clit—“you are very, very wet.”
“Please, sir,” she begged, and he almost threw the rest of his plan out the window just to feel her wrapped around his cock, but he managed to take a deep breath and slide two fingers exactly where he wanted to be. The soft moan she released was absolute fucking torture, but the best kind. “Oh God, yes, please?”
“Such a good girl.” Curving his fingers down, he started to thrust slowly, searching for that certain spot where he’d feel her body react.
And then a shout came from the main stage area, “No fair! You aren’t worthy to be with Mistress Ice!”
Fucking hell, really?
“What’s going on?” Vanessa asked, lifting her head, and Wyatt wanted to put a ball gag on whoever the fuck had just shouted. He’d had her so close to letting go of all the busy thoughts in her head, and then—
“Her name is Mistress!” The idiot at the front of the small crowd shouted again. Wyatt could see Santiago moving in to drag the fucker away from the scene, but that wasn’t going to fix the problem with his submissive.
“It’s okay, baby. Just an idiot trying to interrupt Mistress Ice’s scene with Nolan, and that’s a mess neither of us need to pay attention to.” Wyatt realized what he’d said and froze with his hand on her ass. Dammit, fuck! He’d called her ‘baby’ on reflex, just trying to soothe her concern, and he did not need any other distractions when everything was about to go according to plan. “I think what we’re doing is much more interesting.”
“But what—” Before she could continue, he flipped the little vibrator on and held it directly to her clit. Her whole body jerked, which also meant the anal hook got a nice tug, and a few seconds later Vanessa wasn’t doing anything other than grinding against the little vibe. “Sir, oh my God, please!”
Kneeling at the edge of the table, he dragged the bullet up to her pussy, teasing her entrance before he pushed it inside. She instantly bucked again, and he listened to her moans escalate as he leaned forward and dragged his tongue from clit to hook.
“Fuck, sir! PLEASE!” Her shout drew attention, and he could hear the buzz of people moving closer, but he didn’t care at all as he tasted her. He alternated between focusing on her clit until he could feel her thighs trembling, and then dipping his tongue inside her cunt. Sweet and tart, a taste that was going to haunt his fucking dreams if he never got to touch her again, which was the wrong thing to be thinking. But, as if she knew just what he needed, the next time he focused on her clit she suddenly came hard. Crying out, shuddering, and he licked her again and again, until she was whimpering, pleading, and her words made it into his ears. “Sir, please, fuck me, or let me taste you. Please let me taste you? God, please, just something.”
Definitely not an offer you ignore.
Standing, he saw her twisted slightly so that she could see him, and the bright flush in her lips and cheeks made his decision for him. “You want to taste me, beautiful?”
“God, yes,” she moaned, hips shifting because the little bullet vibe was still going, and he followed the cord to the tiny plastic control in his hand. Grinning, he left it in, setting the control box on the small of her back, and then he turned her on the table so he could have access to either end of his bound ballerina.
There was nothing graceful about fumbling with his dress belt, but her eyes lit up when he slid it free from the loops. “Such a little masochist. Like belts?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered, but her eyes were focused a little below where his belt had been. “Please?” she begged again, and he groaned.
“You’re going to fucking kill me if you keep begging like that.” Moving closer, he opened his pants, slowly sliding the zipper down, and then he used both hands to sweep the hair back from her face, winding it into one hand to help keep her head up. Then he shoved his boxers out of the way and finally wrapped his fist around his cock. It was a full body shiver, only made worse by the way Vanessa wet her lips and opened her mouth. “I’m in control. Got it, little whore?”
“Yes, sir!” With her mouth open, tongue waiting for his cock, it was a goddamned miracle he didn’t pop off like a teenager. The only hope he had was for him to stay in control, and that meant easing in. Slow.
An electric shudder moved up his spine as he first slid over her tongue, so wet and warm when she sealed her lips around his shaft, and he tightened his grip as he eased back and forth just the first couple of inches. Still, Vanessa was moving her tongue along every hypersensitive ridge, and he could feel the buzzing hum of her moan as her hips started to wiggle again. “Jesus…” he groaned, pushing in deeper.
He’d bound her for the fun of it, to restrict her movement and force her to rely on him, to trust him, to submit so that she could let go. But he had not planned appropriately on what the visual would do to him. His hips twitched forward, seeking more, and he lost all hope of going slow. Wyatt fed her every inch she could take, testing the back of her throat, and even pushing for just a moment until he felt her swallow and almost came.
“Bad girl,” he growled as he jerked his hips back. Staring down at her swollen lips, the bright flush in her cheeks, and the defiant little tongue that she held out as if taunting him to try again, he shook his head. “I’m not coming down your throat, little whore. I’m about to fuck you, any objections?”
“No, sir,” she answered, grinning, and he dug in his pants pocket for a condom. Holding up the wrapper so she could see it before he let go of her hair.
The walk around the damn table was the longest of his life, as was the suddenly complicated process of getting the fucking foil wrapper to open so he could slide the condom on, but then he was standing behind her. Hands on Vanessa’s hips as he tugged her over the edge of the table just enough to let her lay her head down. “Ready?” he asked, tugging the little vibe out of her to palm it.
“Please, sir!”
As if he needed her to beg right now, any more of that and he’d need to gag her just to last long enough to enjoy it. Next time he’d let her suck him earlier in the night. That would have been smart. Unless there wasn’t a next time? You’re thinking too much. He needed to focus on her enjoying this so there could be a next time. Shut up, shut up, shut up!
There was only one way to get the anxiety to go away, and Elijah had told him that trick at the beginning of the night. She was soaking wet, which made it easy to line up and push forward. Each inch was perfection, and when he pulled back and thrust deep everything went quiet.
No one else. Just her. Unbelievable and absolutely perfect.
Chapter 10
Vanessa
“God yessss,” she moaned as he slid inside her, filling her in a way the little vibrator couldn’t. That had been a tease, a taunt, and this was… this was everything. Each full thrust shoved the anal hook deeper, and the double penetration was mind-blowing. “Sir, please! More?” she cried out, begging, unabashed.
“Come for me,” Wyatt growled, and then she felt the buzzing bullet slide through her folds before it found her clit just as he slammed in, forcing his cock and the hook in at the same time — she didn’t stand a chance.
The orgasm hit her hard, blanking her mind with bright ecstasy for one glorious moment until it fractured and sent light careening to the end of every nerve ending, only to grant a million tiny explosions that had her straining against the ropes. Whimpering and moaning as she shivered, slowly becoming aware of her body again, only to find Wyatt still moving inside her. The perfect size to give her that little ache with each deep thrust, but no pleasure-distracting pain. It was all good, all wonderful, raw joy as he teased her with brushes of the vibe against her clit. Taunting her as she murmured pleas for… something. “Sir, oh God, please, please!”
“Such a good girl, Vanessa. So beautiful, come on. Come again.” The little bullet found its mark once more, and she couldn’t tell if the cry made it past her lips, or only existed in her mind, because everything seemed to invert. It wasn’t as powerful, but it was still too much. Overwhelming chaos storming through her nervous system, a shining wave of pleasure that stole the air from her lungs and left her blood humming. Just… absolute bliss, capped off with the incredible feeling of his cock jerking deep inside her as Wyatt groaned behind her.
She was still shivering as he rocked against her ass, all of the welts a flickering memory of sensation, but she was very aware of his warmth draped across her back. The gentle kisses brushed across her back, her bound arms, as she lay limp and satisfied on the table. “Thank you, sir. Thank you…”
“You’re incredible,” he whispered against her spine, and then she felt him stand up, the warmth leaving her completely as he stepped back.
“Sir?” she twisted, trying to see him, and then he stood upright again and she saw Weston walking away from them. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course, beautiful. Let’s get you out of all this.” Wyatt started to rub her arms, and then she felt the medical scissors sliding between her skin and the rope.
“Wait! You don’t need to destroy the rope!” Twisting, she saw him glance at her with a serious expression on his face and she sighed. “Sir, I just don’t want you to waste the rope.”
“Didn’t we talk earlier about not telling a Dom how to spend his money?” The fleeting seriousness left his face as he chuckled. “I do not have the energy to untie all this, I’m cutting it. It’s my choice, because I want you in my arms and comfortable faster. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered, laying her cheek against the padded table as he continued cutting rope away. She had to admit, it took a hell of a lot less time to be free of the ropes as he deftly cut pieces and unwound them.
“Alright, up on your knees and lean back towards me a little.”
She obeyed, still focusing on the pretty rope marks pressed into her skin, until she felt him tug at the anal hook and instantly tensed. “Sir—”
“Vanessa, relax. Now.” The stern edge of his voice had her submitting, even though she closed her eyes as she felt him slowly pull the hook free. It hurt again as it passed the widest point, but his quiet, “Now push,” freed her of it.
“God, my ass hurts,” she grumbled, listening to him chuckle just before a warm cloth passed between her legs, and then over her tender ass.
“I’m definitely enjoying the view,” Wyatt replied. “And I’m sure it only partially has to do with all of these gorgeous marks, or that the hook made your ass sore.”
“I can hear you trying not to laugh, sir.” She attempted to sound serious, but when Wyatt smacked her ass and laughed anyway, she ended up laughing as well. Post-orgasmic hysteria, or something. Sitting up on the padded table, she watched as he tossed random implements in his bag, piling the rope in one spot, and then Weston handed him a robe and he held it open for her.
“Come here, beautiful. There’s still a few minutes left.” With that kind of invitation, she couldn’t have resisted even if she wanted to. The robe was fluffy and warm, like it had recently been in a dryer, and as soon as they walked the few steps down to the main floor, Wyatt scooped her up.
“Showing off again, sir?” she asked, grinning as he settled onto an empty couch near their platform and tucked her into his lap.
“I’m well aware I have nothing on the guys you work with. I’d need to go to the gym more than once a week if I wanted to lift you like they do, but yeah, I was showing off a bit.” Wyatt brushed her cheek, and then dragged his thumb just below her mouth. “And I really want to kiss you again.”
“I’d like that, s—” His lips were on hers before she could finish agreeing, their tongues warring as she held onto his shirt, trying to pull him closer to her. But he understood, like he seemed to understand most things about her, and he held her tighter.
They’d already had sex, but now they were making out like teenagers, on a couch in the middle of Black Light, and it was somehow still thrilling. In a different way, not necessarily better or worse, but she did like being able to touch him.
Although, the rope bondage had been fucking hot.
Wyatt was a unique mixture of quiet and intense. He was absolutely a sadist, but also an absolute gentleman. A conundrum that she wanted to know more about, even as time was ticking down.
He nipped her lip and pulled back from the kiss. “You’re thinking again, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged, and then groaned. “Shit, sorry, yes, sir.”
He laughed, light and easy. “Play is over, beautiful. No need.”
“Oh, okay.” She tried to smile, but knew it was going to come across awkward so she dropped it and looked to where the crowd was gathered by the main stage. Piper was riding the guy who had bid on her, and he was tied to a fucking chair. Pointing, she spoke quietly, “Whoa, look at that.”
Wyatt turned to glance at the stage, and then he made a snorting sound. “I would have bet money that would have never happened, but apparently I would have lost.”
“Huh?”
“That’s Nolan. Some bigshot guy in movies, but he’s definitely not a switch.” Wyatt shrugged. “Or maybe he is, I’m not judging. I’ve just had some conversations with him here at Black Light, and I wouldn’t have thought he’d be into it.”
“Maybe he’s exploring,” Vanessa suggested, but she tore her eyes from the blatant voyeurism and caught Wyatt’s eyes. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” he answered, smiling at her as he tucked hair behind her ear.
“Earlier… you said that Kelsey is right about me fighting subspace. But I hit it with you, I swear—”
“I know you did, that wasn’t why I agreed with her.” Wyatt leaned back on the couch, the smile still lingering on his lips like the discussion didn’t bother him at all.
“Then why say that?”
“Because you’re like me,” he replied, and then dropped his head back to take a deep breath. “How do I explain this… it’s that you can’t just let go and turn your brain off. You’re too wound up, too focused, too driven — so it doesn’t happen easily. You fight subspace, because giving up control is scary.”
She felt a flush in her cheeks, embarrassment or some similar emotion. It was like he was accusing her of being a bad submissive, even though she knew that’s not what he meant. Really, the problem was she didn’t understand what he meant at all. Frustrated, she sighed. “But I didn’t fight it with you, right? Or, did I?”
“At first you did, but then I figured out how to help you let go.” He leaned forward to kiss her, just a tease compared to their make-out session, but it left her lips buzzing when he broke it. “You just need the right distractions, Vanessa. The right set of circumstances so that your only solution is to release all those busy thoughts, all of that mental chaos, and let things happen.”
“Like the kiss, and the bondage.”
“Exactly.” He nodded, slowly interlacing their fingers before he snuck a mischievous glance at her. “And the degradation, you respond very well to that.”
“Thanks, I think?”
“It’s just another kink, and I happen to find it very hot. No trouble at all to call you a dirty little slut when I’m bending you over for something fun.” Wyatt laughed and she did too, because it had been really hot.
