28. Christian

I didn't remember muchabout the club after swallowing Kale's cum down my throat, but as soon as we stepped back into the heated comfort and familiarity of his house, everything narrowed back into a sharp and singular focus. I knew where I was, who I was with, and above all else, I knew I was safe. The promise of that ran straight into the marrow of my bones, and I leaned against the closed door with a content moan as Kale went to his knees in front of me.

He stripped me out of my shoes and socks, my pants, underwear, coat, scarf and shirt. I was naked and he was fully dressed, a call back to the scene I'd watched at The Black Door that had started the night on its current course. A shiver raced up my spine as Kale rose back to his full height, collaring my throat with the wide stretch of his palm. With his fingers wrapped around my throat, he gave me a push back against the door and my breath left my lungs with a quiet puff.

Kale didn't constrict my throat or hinder my breathing, but his proximity was enough to steal my breath just the same. I gasped as he leaned close, tracing my cheekbone with the tip of his nose. His breath burned hot against my skin and the fingers around my throat flexed when he kissed my ear.

"You'd let me do it, wouldn't you?" he asked.

I would let him do anything to me, and we both knew it. "Yes, Mr. Sheffield."

"Why?"

"I want to make you happy," I whispered.

His nose retraced its path across my face until our lips were less than an inch apart. My mouth parted and my lashes fluttered, pinned against the door like a spread-apart butterfly.

"You do," he said, ghosting his lips over mine. "Go upstairs to the third floor. First door on the left. Get on your knees and wait for me."

With one more flex of his hand against mu throat, Kale released me and stepped back. Even with the floaty haze in my head, I could see the arousal painted across his face and the thick bulge that had once again shown up between his legs. I was able to give him a nod of understanding before setting off to the top of his home.

I'd known from seeing it on the outside that Kale's home had three floors, but his bedroom was on the second and the living area was on the first. I'd never bothered to ask what was up the other flight of stairs, but apparently it was time for me to now find out. The wood creaked beneath my bare feet on the third floor landing, and I twisted the antique knob on the door with a tense breath.

The room looked much like the rest of the house, with wide-planked wood floors and tall windows on the wall that faced the street. Like his bedroom, there were mismatched rugs scattered across the narrow room, a small marble fireplace against one wall, and a giant wooden X against the other. There were leather cuffs dangling from each corner of the device, and a small shelf on the wall beside it that held things like lube and condoms, rope, and riding crops. Under the window was a small velvet couch with matching throw pillows against either arm and a blanket thrown haphazardly over the back.

This was Kale's play space.

I wanted to explore it when I was more in my head, but the pressing urgency of Kale's instruction rang loud in the back of mind and I moved toward the couch, falling to my knees in front of the crushed green velvet. I had no idea how long it took for him to join me, but it was long enough for my breathing to pick up, long enough for that haze to settle back over me and lull me toward that perfect state of arousal that I so often found myself in when Kale was near.

What could have been as long as an hour or short as a minute later, the distinct echo of Kale's shoes against the wood floor came into the room. Instead of tensing, the sound relaxed me, and my entire body lolled forward, shoulders sagging under the relief of his arrival. He didn't say anything, but I could hear him busying himself at the shelf behind me and then he came closer.

"Stand up," he said simply. "Bend over the couch so I can get into your ass easier."

A tremor ripped through me as I climbed to my feet and bent forward, bracing myself on the back of the couch. I hadn't had a lot of time to think about why the things Kale asked me to do made me so hard, and I worried if I spent too much time wondering why being reduced to an object with a hole to fuck turned me on more than anything else in my life, it would lose the appeal. So I shut off that part of my mind, shivering like a needy whore when his lube-slicked fingers brushed across my hole.

Without another word, he pushed one finger into me, up to the knuckle. I moaned, head falling forward as he fucked the single digit in and out of me with a torturously slow speed that wasn't going to do anything besides drive me mad. Sweat beaded against my temples, cold and unwelcome compared to the warmth of his hand, and finally the stretch of a second finger, and then more of that same slow pace. Kale didn't say anything to me, no words of praise or criticism. There was no concern at all, just the preemptive attention that came with this kind of preparation, and then a third finger. A third finger that stretched and burned, drawing a low rumble out of my chest. My back arched at the penetration, and Kale let out a sadistic-sounding chuckle.

"Three fingers to get a sound out of you," he murmured, stretching his fingers apart inside of me as he withdrew his hand. "My greedy little princess."

I hadn't meant to be quiet with the first two fingers, but I'd been so focused on the way he handled me I must have kept all the noises to myself. It was impossible to remain quiet with the third finger, though, even if the sounds that came out of me were beyond my control.

After a time, he pulled all three fingers out completely and I wondered if he was going to add a fourth…and then a fifth. The idea of taking Kale's entire hand inside of my body should have been terrifying. The human body just wasn't designed for that kind of thing, but I knew if he wanted his hand there, I would have found a way to allow it. I whimpered at the loss of his touch, and the need for more, and he rested his palm against the small of my back to steady me.

"I'm here," he soothed, "you're safe."

"Yes," I whispered, screwing my eyes closed, "I know, Mr. Sheffield."

Every nerve in my body was a live wire and this was the complete opposite of what normally happened to me when we played these games together. Not to say I wasn't present, but my head always turned floaty in the most perfect kinds of ways, but this time I was so grounded in my body, I didn't know if I'd be able to bear the rest of the night. He'd worked me up into a state where I was nothing more than my need for him, my entire being attuned to his presence, his demands.

A cold and hard object pressed against my slick hole, and I found myself sad that he wasn't returning to give me more of his hand. The plug he pushed into me was thick and long, stretching my hole to an almost incomprehensible circumference. Taking his hand would have been less, and he had to stop the insertion more than once to give me time to get used to the thickness of the toy. By the time he got the entire thing inside of me, I was a crying and gasping mess, even though I had no recollection of when the tears had started to fall.

"Up you go," he said, helping me unfold myself from the couch and stand straight. My legs trembled violently, but Kale didn't say a thing about it as he helped me toward the giant wooden X. He aligned my back against it, tracing his fingers over the goosebumps that had broken out over every exposed inch of my skin. And then he touched my face, and I blinked him into focus, my heart skipping a beat when he smiled at me.

"There you are," Kale said softly, brushing my hair back from my face. "Are you still with me? Still good?"

My eyes rolled back, muscles grasping against the massive plug he'd put inside of me.

"I feel everything," I rasped.

"Good."

He was careful when he stretched my arms above my head, looping the cool leather cuffs around each wrist before attaching me to the corners. Then he went to my ankles, putting the cuffs on, and latching me in. It was reflex to test my range of motion, dick leaking copiously against my stomach when I realized I had nowhere to go.

Kale reached around to the shelf for something, which he dangled in front of my face. It took a few blinks, but I realized quickly what they were. Nipple clamps, just like from the club.

"You're going to feel this too," he promised, leaning down and taking one of my nipples into his mouth. His tongue was hot and rough, laving over the delicate and tender nub of flesh. I fought against the restraints, not because I wanted to, but because my body demanded a reprieve. Kale didn't let up, nipping my nipple with his teeth before moving quickly and replacing his mouth with the rubber-covered clamp.

I shouted, a shocked gasp that trailed off into a needy whimper. My hips bucking for friction, Kale paid comparable attention to my other nipple before attaching the clamp. My sense of focus went wide and narrowed down, ping-ponging from the matching aches in my chest to the glaring stretch and burn in my ass.

"I love you like this," Kale whispered, taking a step back.

I tried to say thank you, but the sound that came out of me didn't even sound like words. Kale smiled, rubbing his hands together.

"Can I blindfold you, Christian?" he asked.

In any other place, any other world, the answer would have been no. Blindfolds weren't safe, but I was with Kale and he was safe.

"Yes, Mr. Sheff…" I trailed off, words still beyond my comprehension.

Kale reached back around me for the shelf, and then very gently he slid a black leather blindfold over my eyes. It was heavy and cool, just like the cuffs, a sharp contrast to the warm glide of his fingers over the places where the leather met my skin.

"Don't worry about what's happening next, princess," Kale whispered against my mouth. "Just feel it, okay?"

I nodded.

"I'm going to touch your cock," he explained, reaching down and doing just that. "I'm going to get you so close and so close and…So. Close. Christian. And then I'm going to take that plug out of you and replace it with my cock. I'm going to fuck you right here against this cross until I come, and then I'm going to touch your cock some more, and some more, and maybe after that, I'll decide it's time for you to come too. Do you hear me, princess?"

I was ready to come from his words alone.

Behind the blindfold, I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back tears. I wasn't upset and I wasn't scared. I was horny and desperate, and I needed him to do all of the things he promised to me. I needed him to hurt me and use my body for his pleasure because it was my body, not someone else's. It was me bringing him off; it was me making him creative and hard and taking his breath away.

That was the feeling, I realized. The heightened sensation racing through every nerve and muscle in my body was control. Even with restraints around my limbs and a cover over my eyes, even with the thickest and longest tool shoved up my ass, I was in control of the man who'd put them all there. He was doing it for me because seeing me like this made him happy and me being that way made me feel the same. The cycle that weaved its way in the space between us was reciprocal and never-ending, and I didn't see any way of coming back from it now that I fully understood how it worked.

Managing a nod and the barest whisper of a confirmation that I heard everything he'd said and that I wanted all of it and more, I said, "Yes, Mr. Sheffield, I hear you."