13. Betrayal (4)

Brooklyn 

 I've never been in here before.

It's not a new revelation as I step into Kir's bedroom. But it's the first time that it's hit me with this much of a punch.

He has been staying here since he moved out of the house he and Lacy shared.

I'm beginning to think if this place is even new.

I shiver as I walk across the floor of the huge, elegant, very masculine room. It smells like him in here-that clean citrus mixed with a hint of pine. I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with his scent as my eyes drink in my surroundings.

The details of the room are so him. Dark walls. Gold and brass accents. A fireplace on one side of the room, across from the enormous king-sized bed.

"When you get there, take off all your clothes, then get on my bed on all fours, facing the pillows."

I've been turned on ever since he made me cum by just fucking my mouth and using his fingers-when his fingers snaked around my hip and his touch guided my movements.

But now, I'm so wet and ready for him that 

I'm shaking.

I peel off my clothes, setting them aside before I climb onto the bed. For a second, I lie across it on my back, luxuriating in the erotic feel of his bed and his sheets and duvet underneath my bare body.

But then the heat between my legs and the raw hunger churning inside me start to be too much.

I get on my hands and knees as instructed, feeling utterly exposed as I arch my back and rest my face against the duvet.

This is really happening.

Nervous, anxious energy ripples through me, making my toes curl and my fingers fidget. 

But it's not a bad anxiousness.

Actually, for the first time quite possibly ever, I realize I'm about to have sex and I'm eager for it.

Aching for it, not looking for an escape.

I hear the bedroom door open, and my skin prickles, nipples tightening to points against the duvet and heat blooming between my legs as I sense his eyes sliding over me.

.

The lights dim, and I exhale quietly as I hear his footsteps approach the bed.

"You followed my directions well," he murmurs. "Good girl."

Fuck. The way those words slip over my skin like silk, or a tongue, when he says them. It's like my ears are wired directly to my pleasure center, and hearing him purr those two words sets me on fire.

I shiver, biting back a whimper when Kir traces a fingertip over my raised hip, then slides it to the small of my back. My skin ripples, my core tightening and fluttering as he slowly drags the finger over every little vertebra of my spine, until he reaches the top and wraps my hair around his fist.

He gathers my hair into a high ponytail, fastening it in place before letting his fingers walk back to the nape of my neck. He leans down close, and my breath catches when his lips brush my earlobe.

"I'm going to blindfold you."

I nod, then gasp quietly when he slides a strip of black silk over my eyes, knotting it tightly at the back of my head, beneath the ponytail.

The sudden elimination of one of my senses instantly heightens the rest of them-his citrusy piney scent. The sound of his deep breathing. The brush of his skin over mine as he drops his hands from the blindfold.

"Do you trust me, baby?"

I shiver as I nod my head. "Yes."

Kir takes a slow breath, and I whimper when 

I feel his fingertip slide back down my spine.

"I'm going to be completely and utterly in charge. I'm going to push you without holding back, Brooklyn. I'm going to tie you up."

I gasp quietly, fear and ravenous excitement coursing through my body. He takes another breath before his dark, deep voice slips over my skin again.

"I'm going to hurt you, too. Not in a bad way," he growls. "In a way that's going to make you come alive."

My pulse skips erratically, ringing in my ears as my body tightens.

"If it ever becomes too much," he says, his voice low, "you'll say a specific word, and we will stop, no questions asked, no judgement. 

Do you understand?"

I shiver, nodding my head. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now choose your safe word, the one you can utter and I'll stop immediately. Don't choose anything vague like 'stop' or 'please', make it something very specific that you would never say in this situation. Even though I'm the one tying you up and dominating you, you are in control here, 

Brooklyn. You set the boundaries, and you decide when you've had enough. Is that clear?"

I nod again. "Yes, sir." I wet my lips, thinking, my fingers tightening on the duvet. "Arabesque. Arabesque is my word."

"Good. Remember that."

The warning tone in his voice makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

"Face to the bed," he murmurs. "Reach your hands out toward the wall."

My heart skips as I bend all the way over, ass in the air and my cheek against the duvet. I stretch my arms out, trembling when I feel Kir's hand stroke my forearm.

"Remember your safe word, babygirl."

My breath catches as he wraps a strip of what feels like leather around my wrist and buckles it tight. He slowly walks around the bed to the other side, doing the same to the other wrist. I tremble when I hear what sounds like a small length of metal chain being fastened to each cuff.

Heat ripples down my spine.

He moves to the foot of the bed and runs a finger down one leg, teasing it down the back of my thigh, over my calf, then sliding it to my ankle.

"Spread your legs, gorgeous girl."

My face is throbbing, my body almost spasming with flickers of anxiety and anticipation. I do as he says, parting my knees, feeling my body heat as I sense his eyes sliding over my ass and my pussy.

"Remember that safe word," he growls quietly.

Another cuff goes around my ankle. There's something heavy attached to this one. He fastens the cuff, then moves around to the other ankle, buckling a leather strap around that one, too. I shift, but stiffen when I realize 

I can't.

"It's called a spreader bar," Kir murmurs, his voice like leather and smoke. "You'll be able to open your legs...like this..."

He wraps his fingers around one of my thighs and opens my legs a little more. There's a dull metallic clunk, like a lock ratcheting into place.

"But you won't be able to close them."

I try to do so, and more heat surges through me. The heavy bar attached to the ankle cuffs is indeed keeping my legs spread apart.

Wordlessly, Kir moves back up the side of the bed and takes one of my hands. He pulls it back, tugging my wrist down to my ankle with the cuff wrapped around it. With another soft metal click, that arm is instantly immobilized.

He's just chained my wrist to my ankle.

He does the same on the other side, and suddenly, I'm on my knees on the bed, cheek against the duvet, ass in the air, my wrists bound to my ankles.

Pure heat explodes through me. I feels so unnervingly exposed and trapped. But there's no fear or panic, like I'd have expected. Just simmering, aching need.

My skin breaks into gooseflesh, my nipples tight points against the bed.

I bite my lip when something that feels like silky rope brushes my wrist. Kir loops it through what must be a metal ring attached to the wrist cuff and then pulls it tight, tying that side of my body to...what, another ring set in the side of the bed? He does the same thing to the other wrist, and I gasp when I feel the spreader bar notch open a bit more and then lock in place.

My pulse roars as I try to imagine what I look like: on my knees, cheek to the bed, my wrists pulled back and cuffed to my ankles; the spreader bar keeping my legs immobilized; and ropes tying my wrists to the sides of the bed. I'm utterly bound in place.

A low whine rings in my ears as my body flexes against the binds, heat teasing over my skin as I try to stop my breath from racing out of control.

With some of the things that have happened to me in the past, or more recently with Lou, this should be the world's biggest trigger. But 

Kir's words drift through my psyche, calming me even as my heart pounds.

Even though I'm the one tying you up and dominating you, you are in control here, Brooklyn. You set the boundaries, and you decide when you've had enough.

"How do you feel," he murmurs.

"Pinned," I whisper, my voice shaking. "But not in a bad way."

Quite the opposite. The feeling of my arms and legs being restrained sends a shiver of heat through me. It's like the removal of my control has me melting against the bed, eager for him to take it over.

Not just because he's hot and makes my heart skip whenever I see him, but because I trust him-possibly more than I've ever trusted anyone in my life.

My pulse races when I hear him taking off his clothes-fabric hitting the floor, his belt clinking. It suddenly hits me that I've never actually seen him naked. Parts of him, of course...large parts of him. But never completely without clothes.

I bite my lip, imagining what those hard, grooved muscles will look like, will feel like. The bed shifts as he moves onto it behind me, and my breath catches when a low growl rumbles in his throat.

"You look so beautiful," he murmurs, trailing a finger down my hip. "All trussed up and spread open for me."

I whimper as his finger traces over my ass, then slips down between my legs. I moan into the sheets when he cups my pussy from behind, stroking a thick finger through my slickness, making me realize how fucking wet 

I am.

"Remember your safe word, baby," he murmurs.

Suddenly, his palm is crashing against my ass with a sharp, quick spank. I yelp, the sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan as heat from the sting of his slap radiates all across my butt.

He does it again to the other cheek. And again my voice breaks when his palm smacks my ass, betraying the aching need I feel inside.

His open palm spanks my ass again. "With every smack," he murmurs, "I want you to feel how mine you are. Every red mark on your perfect skin is a reminder of whose you are, little sinner."

My body jolts as his palm crashes to my ass again.

"There will be ten more, babygirl," he murmurs. "And you'll count them like a good girl, without mistakes, or else I'll start over. Is that understood?"

Fucking hell. It's the way pure dominance and control are delivered with a velvety touch that makes me ache for him. That has my back arching, my breath choking against the sheets as I feel his hand stroke my throbbing ass.

His hand pulls back, and I brace myself.

Smack.

"One!" I cry out , my body pulling tight against my binds as he spanks me.

His palm smacks the other cheek, wrenching a whimpered cry from my throat as I sob against the sheets in pleasure and delicious pain.

"Two!" I choke.

On they go. Three. Four. Five. Six. By seven, my ass is on fire and vicious, hot need twists and coils my core. On eight and nine, every jerk of my body against the bed makes my nipples drag so electrically against the duvet that they're throbbing and aching. Ten sends a ripple through me that makes my eyes roll back behind the blindfold, and my core tightens and clenches so hard it feels like I'm on the brink of an orgasm.

"Ten!" I cry into the sheets. My thighs shake, and my skin is on fire as I feel his palm gently rub and stroke the tender skin of my ass.

"Such a good girl," he murmurs, sending a heated thrill through me as the words melt into my ear. "I think you've earned this."

I feel him shift behind me. Suddenly, my eyes fly open behind the blindfold, a choked cry strangling in my throat as without warning his tongue drags through my lips and sinks into my pussy. My whole body starts to shake and tremble. My knees slide a little more open, and I moan when I feel the bar lock into place again, keeping me even more spread open.

Oh fuck! This is going to be a long, and the best week I've ever had.