Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Penelope and Shay.
I wordlessly extended a hand to Jordan, who took it while I locked eyes with Penelope.
As I passed her, she cocked a brow when I leaned down and kissed her cheek.
“I know it was you, Fredo.”
She scoffed and backed away. “You’re delusional, Ash.”
I smiled and walked out with my boy.
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh,” Jordan whispered under his breath. “My heart is beating so fast.”
I gave his hand a squeeze, and we met up with Nate, James, KC, and Noa by the stairs.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I need a cigarette,” Noa said frankly.
I chuckled and ruffled his hair.
“That sure took an interesting turn,” Nate noted.
I nodded and glanced at KC.
“She’s in on it,” he said. “She has to be.”
“Without a shred of doubt,” I confirmed. “I’m on the fence about Nora, but Pen and Shay? Absolutely.”
He nodded once. “We’ll see if the Tenleys agree after the Daddy fog has cleared. Good job, my friend.”
“Back at’cha, buddy.” I shook his hand.
“Daddy?” Jordan tugged lightly on my hand. “Can we go to the dojo? I want to talk to you.”
“Sure.”
“Daddy, can I also wear my jammies?” Noa asked. “I look too British in a suit.”
I laughed. Noa was too damn funny sometimes.
“Let’s see what we can find in the cabin,” KC chuckled.
Actually, I should go get our overnight bag first. Maybe get us something more to drink too. And raid the snack buffet.
Nathan Riley
It was a relief to return to the dojo. My kinky home away from home, where the club atmosphere never reached, where the chaos never invaded.
“You can lose the tie and the underwear, James,” I said, unbuttoning my vest. “Shoes too.”
“Yes, Sir.”
At nine thirty, it was perfectly acceptable for the masquerade ball portion of the evening to be over. Let’s face it, members were here tonight because of the special rules. Everyone was allowed to watch. All doors would stay open, and most people were spending the night in one nook or another. Guest rooms, playrooms, the club, all of it.
“Let me help you, Sir.” Jordan scurried over to me and helped me take off my suit jacket and my vest.
I smiled and touched his cheek. “You’re very sweet.”
A faint blush bled across his cheeks. “I want to serve you, Sir. Feel owned and stuff. I didn’t think my submission ran that deep, but…”
I inhaled deeply, unable to describe the pleasure I felt at those words.
“I would very much like for Rigger to be a title like Master and Owner,” he admitted.
I cupped his cheek, wanting eye contact. “I love the sound of that. Does that mean you wish to explore more bondage too?”
“So much.” He continued with my shirt. “It felt good to feel so…restricted, if that’s the word. Like, I wanna feel the rope squeezing me like a hug.”
Christ. Straight into a rope lover’s heart.
“But also, like…” He struggled to find the words. “I’m curious about suffering—not the way I’d do when a Sadist beats me or hunts me down… More like showing him that I’m suffering for him. Does that make sense? Especially with bondage, where it can take a long time to finish an advanced tie—but I want to show my Rigger that he can count on me. That I’m the property he can do his art with.”
I bent down and kissed him, and I hitched my hands under his armpits to pick him up. He eeep’d into the kiss and wrapped his legs around me. Too fucking precious. Damn if he wasn’t making my kinky dreams come true. And then James—to get the chance to explore humiliation and degradation with someone? A kink I’d barely dared to dream about.
“You will be my little bondage dream, baby boy.”
He shivered violently and locked his arms around my neck.
He was such an intoxicating kisser, so eager and passionate. He threw himself into things, and he was all heart.
I carried him over to our bed and sat down on the edge, and he resumed unbuttoning my shirt, while never breaking the kiss.
“Remember to breathe, sweetheart.”
He started panting, and the need was written all over him. “But I’m so wanty. I want you and I want Daddy and I hate clothes.”
I exhaled a laugh. We could do something about the latter. So I took over. I nudged him onto the mattress and stood up.
“Get those jammies off,” I ordered.
“Yes, Sir!” He bit his lip and squirmed around to push off the onesie. “Will you be okay if I regress during play?”
“Of course. I like Littles too.” I threw my shirt and undershirt where the rest of my clothes had landed, and my pants soon followed. “The only time we might want to prevent regression is when I tie you up.”
“Heck yes, that’s understandable.” He tossed his pajamas onto the floor with a little grunt, not paying any attention whatsoever to James. Who just stood there with his hands covering his privates.