Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
She held out her arms, offering her cuffed wrists to him. With calm efficiency he hooked the chain to the D rings.
“Do you have any shoulder, elbow, or wrist injuries?” he asked.
“No, Sir.”
Alexander nodded, then raised her linked hands above her head. Alena focused on her breathing as he hooked the short chain over a large hook dangling over her head.
When he stepped back, an intense feeling of vulnerability washed over her, as if she was standing naked in a room full of strangers.
The feeling of being exposed and helpless had nothing to do with what she was and wasn’t wearing, and everything to do with the fact that she was now trapped in bondage.
Whatever the feeling, physically she still wore the lace corset-bra, stockings, and panties. Though her left breast was on display, and that nipple was hard, her areola ruched tight.
Alexander went to a small winch and turned the handle, taking up slack in the rope the hook was attached to.
A normal person probably would have freaked out long before this.
“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be normal?” she asked.
He looked…befuddled by the question. It was a cute expression on him.
Cute wasn’t a descriptor she would normally have associated with him, but in this case, it fit.
When he shook his head, she smiled. “No, I suppose neither of us, or anyone in this room, is normal.”
The event was in full swing, and nearly every play space in the dungeon was occupied. Most scenes had small audiences.
She’d tried gently suggesting that they find a private room, but Alexander had merely looked at her, raised one brow, and started weaving through the crowd.
He’d found them a spot at the back of the room where two A-frames supported a crossbar three meters off the ground. A freestanding suspension structure.
During his set up she’d tried several times to start a conversation, but he’d never replied verbally, instead nodding or shaking his head. He was back to being the quiet man, and it was as if the conversation in the hall hadn’t happened.
He continued winching, raising her hands until they were stretched over her head, her upper arms tight against her ears. Alena rose onto her toes, which put some slack in the chain. After a moment of that she dropped back onto her heels.
“Not long,” he murmured as he secured the winch.
She tipped her head back so her own arms weren’t muffling her hearing. If she hadn’t been looking at him, reading his lips, she wouldn’t have known he’d spoken.
Alexander crouched down and started sorting through his kit—a large leather case, similar to what she’d seen several other Doms carrying. The cuffs he’d put on her and the small chain linking them had both come out of the bag.
“I can’t decide if I’m terrified of, or fascinated by, your kit.”
Alexander snorted and swiveled on the balls of his feet, still crouching, to look at her.
He considered her for a moment, then said, “Fascinated.”
Progress! He was talking again.
“You’re not wrong,” she said mournfully.
“Of course I’m not.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I’m the Dom.”
Alena laughed, genuinely amused.
Alexander rose, holding a short riding crop in one hand, a flogger in the other.
Alena’s laughter died. She tensed, taking an instinctive half-step back. The chain connecting her wrists clanked against the hook, and the sound, coupled with the uncomfortable pressure on her wrists and shoulder joints, was enough to short-circuit the panic.
She wasn’t some fainting virgin. She could handle, had in the past handled, impact play from both those implements. What she’d told him was true. She could handle pain, but that didn’t mean she found it pleasurable the way a pure masochist might have. For her it was the Dom’s choice to hurt her, to push her, that aroused.
“Two at once, Sir?” Her tone was softer than it had been, and not by design.
Alexander walked towards her, but it wasn’t just walking, it was the arrogant prowl of a Dom.
He raised the flogger and let the tips of the falls dance over her breast. Made either of suede, or perhaps deer hide, the flogger was soft against her skin.
One strand slid against the very tip of her exposed nipple, managing to touch her with such exquisite precision that she rose up onto her toes in reaction to the jolt of pleasure.
Alexander tucked the flogger and crop under his arm as he circled around behind her.
His fingers were warm on her back, which was chilled from exposure. That didn’t stop her from shivering as he pushed her hair over her shoulder so he could see what he was doing.
He undid the uppermost closure of the corset bra. Alena’s blood heated, her body warm with arousal.
Though he worked with brisk efficiency worthy of a healthcare worker, having him undress her felt intimate. It was intimate, and trying to pretend it wasn’t was stupid.