“Do you want anyone to watch us?”
Do I? I’m not sure. Strike that. I’m sure, but not in the way he means. It’s not that I want to be watched. More that I want to know anyone could see us at any time. There’s a subtle difference that I’m not sure I can explain.
“I don’t know.”
“No one will watch us. I’m not an exhibitionist.” He takes my hand and leads me out of the room and back into the hallway.
“What are all these other doors?” I ask.
“They’re for another time.” He cups my cheek. “I want you, Skye.”
“I want you, too.” If only he knew how much. I can smell the musk between my legs. Can he?
He leads me to a door at the end of the hallway. The sign on it reads simply Private. He keys in a code, shielding his fingers from view. From me? No one else is around.
“Are you ready?” His eyes burn into mine.
I nod.
“I need an answer.”
“I’m ready,” I say, willing myself not to stammer.
He turns the knob and opens the door. “After you.”
I hold my head high and walk in.
And I gasp.
It’s not a dungeon—at least not what I ever thought a dungeon might look like.
At first glance, it’s a beautifully decorated bedroom. A king-size bed is the centerpiece. The head- and footboards are lovely black lacquer, and the bed is covered in mahogany silk. For a moment, I imagine we’re at Braden’s penthouse in Boston, except there are no windows in this room. No Boston Harbor. No Manhattan skyline.
We’re truly underground.
Though the bed draws my gaze, when I allow my eyes to wander, I realize this isn’t a bedroom at all.
In one corner is a leather table with straps and stirrups. In the other corner is what looks like a stockade, but it can’t be. Can it? Hanging on the wall are floggers and handcuffs and whips, oh my.
Against one wall stands a chest. What’s inside I can only guess.
Braden walks toward the chest and opens the top drawer.
Rope. All different colors and textures of rope.
“I can’t tell you how pleased I was when I found you masturbating to the bondage photos,” he says. “I enjoy many aspects of this lifestyle, but bondage is my favorite.”
My flesh tingles. Is he going to tie me up? Artfully, like in the book? Like in the scenes we just witnessed? And then…what will he do to me?
Anticipation courses through me. My pussy aches with need.
“What are you going to do to me?” I ask.
“What would you like me to do?”
Bind me. Fuck me. “Whatever you want.”
“Good answer.” He fingers the diamond choker at my neck. “You’re wearing my collar tonight, but as I said before, that’s only for your protection. We’re alone here, and you may remove it before we play if you’d like.”
His use of the word “play” takes me aback. I don’t consider what I do with Braden playing. We make love.
I bring my hand to his fingers at my neck. “I’d like to wear it. For tonight, anyway.”
“As you wish.”
Is he happy at my decision? I honestly can’t tell. His demeanor is stoic.
“Braden?”
“Yes?”
I clear my throat. “How many other women have been in this room with you?”
“Skye…”
“I’m not asking for names or anything. I just… I’m not naive. I know I’m not the first.”
“What if I told you that you were the first?”
“I’d say you were lying.”
He resists breaking into a grin, keeping his stoic demeanor. “You’d be correct. You’re not the first. Perhaps, though, you’ll be the last.”
I widen my eyes. “You mean that?”
“I never say anything I don’t mean, Skye. You should know that by now.”
“You want me to be the last?”
“I said perhaps, Skye. I’m not clairvoyant. I can’t predict the future.”
“But you want—”
“I love you, Skye. I’ve never said those words to any woman before you. I make no promises about anything other than this moment, but at this moment, I love you.”
I warm all over. “I love you, too, Braden.”
“What we’ve done in my bedroom in Boston only scratches the surface of what I can show you. Of what I want to show you.”
“Is this the kind of stuff you like to do all the time?” I ask.
“Yes, this is a lifestyle choice. I don’t indulge in club scenes regularly, as I’m not always here. I still live in Boston.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve already explained part of that, but also, by only indulging in my darkest side on occasion, it’s more special. Like anything, if you do it constantly, you become used to it. The thrill lessens.”
“I see.” And I do. I truly see, as if Braden has ordered me only to see.
“Are you ready, Skye?”
“For…all of this?”
“To follow me under. To the darkest side of my fantasies.”
I swallow, my heart stampeding. “Yes, Braden. I’m ready.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Braden loosens the ties on my corset and helps me step out of it. Then he removes my stilettos, my garter belt and stockings, and my thong.