Chapter 36

Tara

Laying back on the carpet with my legs spread so wide it borderlines painful, I'm swimming through an ocean of emotions that have me light and heavy. Dizzy yet grounded. Floating and tethered.

I don't notice Ryker's unhooked my ankles from the spreader bar until he scoops me up and cradles me in his lap. A girl could get used to this.

"I'm still very green." I don't want him to think he's hurt me. I sure as shit don't want the scene to end, either. Burying my face in his neck, I don't want to let him go at all. I'll give anything to feel this alive, forever living on the edge of danger, dancing between pleasure and pain.

What a dangerous lifestyle that would be.

I've never been attached to someone like I'm getting with Ryker. How did he ensnare me so quickly?

Easy. It's the way he holds me. The way he looks at me. The way he gives me what I want in ways I didn't realize I needed. I came to the Monarch for sexual discovery. I'm going to leave with a broken heart.

That's okay. Being wrecked by Ryker will feel too good to regret.

When I go, how long will it take before he finds someone new? Part of me thought I'd cracked him open—especially when he finally kissed me. But now I'm starting to wonder how many times he's done this with a woman. It's hard to believe Ryker would lie and put on this whole act of being a broken, elusive, dark-minded grieving man who's always alone, but this room wouldn't be here unless he has other play partners. He told me he's brought six women to his bed, including me.

We aren't in his bed though.

"How many women have you brought to this room, Ryker?"

He looks down at me and holds up one finger.

Bullshit. I raise an eyebrow. "One?"

He nods and swallows, my panties still stuffed in his mouth.

"So, I'm number two?"

His gorgeous eyes darken as he shakes his head.

My heart slams to a stop. "I'm the one?"

He slowly nods.

I can't climb off his lap fast enough. "Are you serious?"

He nods again, making no move to pull my underwear out of his mouth. And he won't, I realize, because he's still in the scene, being my sub.

"Damnit, Ryker." I rip the fabric from between his lips. "Talk to me."

He shrugs. "There's nothing to say. I don't bring women here, Tara. This is my safe space. I have the club for fun, but this is my haven. My sanctuary."

"You really think I'm going to believe you put yourself in shackles and flog your own back?"

"Dmitri does it." He wipes some of the spit off his chin. "I built this space for my own punishment and pleasure. D comes over and puts me in a subspace when I need him to, and sometimes he uses it when I'm not here."

My gaze sails around the room. It's kitted out with so much BDSM equipment, and I'm starting to realize that the Monarch is only an extension of Ryker's sexual tastes, not the hub.

"If I need a companion, I go to their house and make sure to slip out long before they wake up," he admits. "Only the people I trust have seen this space."

He can't trust me. Not enough to give me the ultimate glimpse behind the curtain like this. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Because I trust you, Tara." He swallows hard. "I've told you things I haven't shared with anyone outside my tight circle." He cups my face. "But it feels right." His hand drops to his lap. "A Dom/sub relationship is built on not only trust but mutual respect. You have no reason to trust me outside of a scene, Butterfly, but you do. I see it every time you look at me."

I wish he'd trust me enough to be his raw, real self around me then. Even now, I know he's guarded. He made this entire scene a distraction to prolong what I really want out of him.

His gaze lifts to mine. "I really fucked shit up for us in the beginning. I didn't show you the respect you deserve, and I'll be forever sorry for it." He swipes the tears saturating my cheeks. "I've always prided myself on knowing how to care for and bring pleasure to others. But you've shown me I still have a lot to learn."

No, he doesn't. He just needs to let his guard down. Except he's been through too much for that to be a simple thing to do. I get it.

"You should have picked Dmitri," he whispers. "He's a far better Dom than I will ever be." He huffs a cold laugh. "Ironic, considering I'm the one with the most experience."

"I didn't want him." And I never will. But the way he talks about Dmitri gives me another worry. "Are you two a couple?"

My question catches Ryker off guard. Not sure why since it's an easy assumption to make—especially after my first flogging lesson.

"No." Ryker rubs the back of his neck. "He and I once shared a woman, but we've never been together sexually, just the two of us. Our dynamic is strictly for tension release—not sexual gratification."

I don't understand the difference. "What did I just get?"

His eyes lower to my pussy. "What does it feel like, Butterfly?"

Good question. I'm boneless and lightheaded and completely spent. "Sexual gratification."

He leans over and kisses my forehead. "If Dmitri was here and in control, he'd have you in a subspace another way. You likely wouldn't have orgasmed, but would still feel satisfied in your mind. Your body, however, would be too relaxed to catch a sexual release."

I remember how Dmitri flogged Ryker, putting him into an immediate headspace that calmed his rage. Releases, I guess, come in all shades of red, white, black, and blue. "Would you ever share me with him?"

The possessive growl that rises out of Ryker's chest is nothing short of vicious. It takes a moment for him to say, "If you wanted me to." He freezes. "Fucking Hell, Tara. I don't want to share you with anyone. Ever."

Be still my falling heart. "Why not?"

"As an escort, I've always done whatever my partner asks of me. The few women I've fucked since owning the Monarch, I treated the same way as all my past clients. I gave them the fantasy they asked for. Let them have whatever they wanted from me. I didn't care. I'd share them with anyone because they didn't matter to me. But you?" He crawls closer and gives me a hand necklace. "I want to keep you all to myself. The thought of sharing you with anyone, even my best friend, makes me want to set the world on fire."

Talk about feeling special.

He shakes his head. "You have no idea how hard it was to watch you go from room to room in my club, always holding my breath to see if you'd take someone into a bedroom. The way my heart would race each time you talked to anyone. Including Sophie."

My eyes widen. "Sophie?" Why would he bring that woman up?

"She's the best Fem Domme I have," he explains. "That woman can likely bring pleasures to you that no one else, including me, could give you."

"I'll have to remember that," I tease.

He doesn't find it funny.

This conversation's become too heavy. It's hard to move and breathe in here. The intensity between us is crushing my heart. "Why did you bring me here, Ryker? What makes me so special? A week ago, you were doing all you could to get me out of your hair, and now you've brought me home. Why?"

He doesn't answer.

"Why?" I yell a little louder.

He swallows hard and still doesn't respond.

Damn this man. He keeps giving me breadcrumbs, leading me down a path that will ultimately bring me to a cliff. When we get to the edge, will he push me off or will I fucking jump?