Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35304 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
The room goes silent. Nothing but breathing.
Leo needs to clean this up and fast. I lean in close to his ear. "Tell the crowd there's a minor change of plans. A little bump at the start of things. Keep it moving."
Leo steps forward smoothly. "So, we have a little game we play here where one of our owners, if so inclined, can play their trump card. And it seems tonight Sir Rye has played his. Allegra, your new kink master for this evening is Sir Rye. It's okay. Don't be afraid. Let's keep this going."
My breath rifles in and out of my lungs. Things are happening below my belt that have never happened to me in this building before.
Elodie inches forward, eyes on me, something caught between fear and confusion on her face, lips pressed into a tight line as murmurs move through the crowd. I lean in to Leo. "Keep going. Call the next name."
She steps in front of me.
"Uncle Rye." Her voice is like wind chimes in a storm. "What are you—"
"I'll explain. But first you need to explain to me what the fuck you're doing in a place like this."
Her shoulders stiffen. Chin goes up. "I can be where I want. I'm eighteen. I signed the papers at the door. I showed my ID. I'm here for an experience."
I should be pissed. I am pissed. But her little bravado, that inner brat coming out to play, only makes my restraint that much harder to hold onto.
I shrug. "Is that so? You're a big girl now, huh?"
"I'm here with my friends for an experience. And I'm going to get it with you or without you." She holds my gaze. "So what's it going to be? Are you going to give it to me, or am I going back to Sir Richard? Because he's still staring. I think he might be a little pissed that you knocked him down in front of everybody."
“Sir Richard is going to lose his fucking eyeballs,” I growl. "Come here."
I close my fingers around her upper arm and lead her to the small, designated area for the evening's first scene. Leather flooring, a bright spotlight overhead. Leo's still talking, but every set of eyes in the room is still on us.
"You want an experience. You're going to get one."
I set the arm bar on the table, unsnap the posture collar, and look at my niece. I think about birthday parties. Taking her to the zoo. The thrift store runs that are one of our favorite things. Her mother hates it every time she comes home with secondhand clothes, but I’d do anything to see that smile.
What I want to tell her is something I'll take to my grave.
"Lift your hair."
She blinks at me.
"For the rest of this evening, I'm your Dom. You do what I say. Your only out is your safe word. Do you understand?"
Her eyelashes flutter. She's deciding.
She turns, gathers her hair, and lifts, exposing that long, graceful neck. The neck I've imagined my teeth marks on more times than I'll ever admit.
"Good girl."
Those two words sting my lips. I've never called a woman that before. It feels like the closest thing to a commitment I've ever made.
I slip the collar around her neck. If there was ever a neck made for a posture collar, it's hers. I snap the five stainless snaps—pop, pop, pop—then turn her to face me, and take in the way it holds her chin. The silver crow ring on the front catches the light.
I damn near come in my pants.
I reach for the chrome arm bar, the rings and cuffs clinking as I step behind her. God, she looks fragile. So young. If she so much as brushed against me right, I’d ejaculate.
She attempts to turn her head.
I catch the back of her hair immediately.
"That posture collar is on for a reason. You’re kink for this session is movement restriction. Eyes forward, head up. You don't turn your head unless you ask properly and I give permission. Are we clear?"
A half-laugh escapes her. "Uncle Rye, you’re pretty comfortable here. Care to explain yourself?"
I release her hair, reach down, and binding her wrist in my fingers. "Hold your arm out. Right here." I raise it up, tugging it straight, parallel to the floor. "Both of them."
I don't answer her question. If she wants to play this game, she's going to learn how it's played from an expert.
I latch one wrist into the cuff and cinch it. Step around, do the other one. Then step back.
God.
What a work of art. Head high, red dress, six-inch heels, the chrome bar glinting in the spotlight, her hands hanging limp and helpless at each end.
I have never seen anything so beautiful in my entire life.
"You'll wear this until I take it off you."