Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

HOPE

H ope had never cared for public play, although being seen almost naked had never really bothered her. Seth knew what he was doing, and she knew it. He'd bound her to a cross so that she wouldn't be able to move around too much, and he'd used the violet wand because he knew she hated to love it. Using that would keep her far more focused on Seth and the wand than anything else. He was doing what any good Dom would do. He was taking care of her and keeping them safe.

She stood in the dimly lit room, gazing out from the heavy, leather-padded St. Andrew's cross. She had known what she was getting into, or so she thought, but now, with her wrists and ankles securely bound to the cool padded leather, she felt a shiver of anticipation and vulnerability wash over her. The bonds were firm but not painful, designed to keep her in place, leaving her feeling both restrained and strangely liberated.

As the soft hum and smell of ozone from the violet wand filled the room, her breath hitched. The sound was almost soothing, but it carried with it the promise of sharp, electric sensations that would soon dance across her skin. The lights were low, casting deep shadows that played tricks with her mind, heightening her awareness of every small movement, every flicker of the wand in the hands of the figure moving toward her.

She closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing thoughts, but when the first crackle of electricity met her skin, her eyes snapped open, a gasp escaping her lips. The sensation was sharp, almost like a pinprick, but it quickly transformed into a warm, tingling rush that spread out from where the wand touched her. Seth moved the wand with deliberate slowness, tracing patterns across her body, each contact sending a mix of pain and pleasure coursing through her.

Hope's senses were on fire, her body reacting instinctively to the stimulation. The violet wand danced across her flesh, leaving trails of light, tingling warmth in its wake. Her skin was hyper-aware, every nerve ending attuned to the electric pulses that teased and tormented her. She could feel the energy building inside her, the tension in her muscles as she strained against the bonds, not to escape but to meet the wand, to embrace the exquisite sensation it delivered.

Each jolt was a reminder of her vulnerability and submission; yet, within that, she found a strange power. She surrendered to the moment, to the dance of electricity and control, trusting Seth to keep her safe, her mind slipping into a hazy state where the boundaries between pain and pleasure blurred. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation, the sound of the violet wand, and the steady rhythm of her breathing.

"You still with me, Hope?"

"Yes, Master. I am the loveliest shade of green," she answered in a tone she almost didn't recognize. She'd forgotten what it was like to drift in this lovely place with someone you trusted, and right, wrong, or indifferent, she trusted Seth.

He'd turned off the wand and trailed his fingers up along the inside of her thigh. His hand was warm and strong, and it felt delicious as it approached her sex, making her catch her breath. His hand covered her mound, giving it a gentle squeeze before his fingers circled her clit. He began teasing it and then gave it a lovely tug before he left his thumb hovering over her swollen nub while the rest of his hand slipped between her legs.

Hope stifled a gasp as two of his fingers slipped into her pussy and began to stroke her. "Master," she moaned.

"That's right, Hope, I'm your Master. You're such a good girl. So slick and ripe. Do you want to come, baby?"

"Yes, Master, please."

"Good girl," he purred, using his fingers to ramp up her pleasure as his lips wrapped around one of her distended nipples, sucking it into his mouth as he swirled his tongue around it.

When he gave it the edge of his teeth, pressed down hard on her clit, and shoved his fingers deep, Hope's body stiffened as she arched up into his hand, all thoughts and fears forgotten as she screamed in ecstasy, her pussy clamping down hard, her whole body shaking with pleasure.

SETH

Seth's hands trembled slightly as he released the final restraint, the leather strap slipping from his fingers. Hope sagged against him, her body limp and blissed out, her breath coming in soft, shallow sighs. He caught her easily, pulling her close as she melted into his arms, her head resting against his chest.

The scene had gone exactly as planned—better than planned, in fact. Hope had given herself over to him completely, their connection so real and intense that it had blurred the line between pretense and reality. The audience had been captivated, but Seth's focus had been solely on her, on making sure she was safe, on pushing her just to the edge and then bringing her back.

Now, as he held her, he could feel the warmth of her skin against his, the steady thrum of her heartbeat slowing as she came down from the high. Her eyes were half-closed, her lips curved into a soft, contented smile, a smile that sent a rush of emotion through him so powerful it nearly took his breath away.

Seth signaled to one of the attendants, and within moments, a warmed blanket was handed to him. He wrapped it around Hope's shoulders, cocooning her in the soft, comforting fabric. She let out a quiet purr of satisfaction, the sound vibrating through him, igniting a primal need to take care of her, to make sure she never lost that look of contentment.

The blanket was warm against his skin as he lifted her into his arms, cradling her like something precious. Hope didn't resist, didn't try to regain control; she simply rested her head against his shoulder, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if she never wanted to let go.

Seth carried her across the room, past the eyes of the onlookers who had been so engrossed in their performance. He didn't care about them now; all that mattered was getting Hope somewhere private, somewhere he could be alone with her, where he could hold her, touch her, and make sure she was okay, and maybe even attempt to communicate how much she meant to him.

Fitzwallace had been right. Seth had had a major thing for Hope long before he'd bound her within his ropes in London that night at Baker Street. Knowing Fitz and the rest of those he worked with at Cerberus, he was pretty certain there was a betting pool going. Fitz would tell Seth he'd lost the bet. But Fitz was wrong. If Hope's surrender to him on the cross tonight was any indication, he was well on his way to winning it all. But first he had to ease her back into reality and get them out of here.

He pushed open the door to one of the private rooms and stepped inside, the heavy wooden door closing behind them with a soft click. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a few flickering candles placed on a low table. A large, plush bed dominated the space, its dark sheets inviting, the air filled with the faint scent of sandalwood and leather.

Seth gently laid Hope down on the bed, her body sinking into the soft mattress. She looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, her expression one of pure contentment. That smile, that soft, dreamy smile that had lifted her lips when she'd all but purred at him, was something he swore he'd never forget. He knew, in that moment, that he would spend the rest of his life trying to bring that look to her face again and again.

His body was humming with lust, a deep, aching need that pulsed through him with every beat of his heart. He hadn't planned to take her here, not in the club where they were still being watched, still under scrutiny. But the way she looked at him, the way her body called to him, made it damn near impossible to resist.

Seth took a deep breath, forcing himself to think clearly. He couldn't take her here, not in this place, not when they were surrounded by people who were still trying to assess who they were. No, he needed to get her out of here, back to the townhouse where they could be alone, where he could take care of both of them in the way they deserved.

But even as he tried to focus on the practicalities, the thought of getting her home, of stripping away the last remnants of the scene and making love to her, sent another wave of heat crashing through him. There wasn't a man in the club who wouldn't understand his need to get her home and fuck her, but Seth knew this wasn't just about appearances, about maintaining their cover.

No, this was something more, something deeper. This wasn't just for the job, no matter how much he tried to tell himself otherwise.

Seth moved to the wardrobe in the corner of the room, searching for something she could wear to leave the club. He had no idea where the corset or thong had gone. It didn't really matter, as stunning as they were, they weren't exactly suitable for the cold London night. And the raincoat? He had no idea where it had ended up. He found a simple black dress, soft and loose, perfect for slipping on quickly. He grabbed it and turned back to Hope, who was watching him with that same serene smile, her eyes following his every move.

He knelt beside her, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Let's get you dressed so we can get out of here," he murmured, his voice soft, the words more for him than for her.

Hope nodded, her smile never faltering. "Okay," she whispered, her voice still dreamy, her fingers reaching out to touch his cheek. The simple gesture, so tender and trusting, nearly undid him.

Just as he was about to help her into the dress, a knock sounded on the door, breaking the intimate bubble that had formed around them. Seth's instincts went on high alert, his body tensing as he turned toward the door, shoving the black dress under the bed.

"Who is it?" he called out, his voice steady, though his mind was racing.

The door creaked open, and a tall man with silver hair and a sharp, discerning gaze, stepped into the room. This, Seth assumed, was the owner of the Citadel and most likely one of the leaders of the Obsidian Cartel. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his presence commanding and authoritative. Seth had seen him earlier mingling with the guests but hadn't had the chance to interact with him directly.

"Mr. Conway," the man greeted, his voice smooth, his eyes flicking from Seth to Hope and back again. "I hope I'm not intruding."

Seth shook his head, his hand resting protectively on Hope's shoulder. "Not at all," he replied, though his instincts were screaming at him to get Hope out of here as quickly as possible.

The owner smiled, a cold, calculating smile—did all of the cartel members have that same smile? Was it a prerequisite to join or did they issue you one with a membership card? "I wanted to personally commend you on your performance tonight. It's rare to see such authenticity, such… passion. You and your wife were truly captivating."

Seth forced a smile, though every muscle in his body was tense. "Thank you," he said, his tone polite but guarded. "We appreciate the opportunity."

The owner's gaze lingered on Hope for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he were trying to discern something deeper, something hidden beneath the surface. Seth's hand tightened on Hope's shoulder, a silent warning to the man that she was off-limits.

"I'll let you get back to your evening," the owner finally said, stepping back toward the door. "But do keep in mind, Mr. Conway, that our club is always open to those who understand its… purpose. I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of you and your lovely wife."

Seth nodded; his smile tight. "I'm sure you will."

The owner's gaze flicked to Hope one last time before he turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind him. Seth's breath whooshed out of his body, the tension slowly easing as the immediate danger passed.

He turned back to Hope, who was looking up at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Who was that?" she asked, her voice still soft, though there was a hint of unease in her eyes.

Seth shook his head, his hand brushing her cheek. "Just the owner, baby" he said, reaching under the bed for the dress, trying to keep his tone light. "But we need to get out of here. Now."

Hope nodded, and together, they quickly dressed her in the simple black dress he had found. Once she was ready, Seth helped her to her feet, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders for warmth. He could still feel the lingering effects of the scene, the desire that simmered just beneath the surface, but he forced himself to stay focused. They had to get out of the club, get back to the safety of the townhouse, where they could finally be alone.

As they left the room, Seth kept a firm grip on Hope's hand, guiding her through the maze of corridors and back up the steep staircase that led to the surface. The night air was cool and crisp as they stepped out into the alley; the rain had stopped, leaving the city glistening under the streetlights. Her feet were bare, but he didn't care.

Seth hailed a cab, his mind still racing from the encounter with the club's owner, the implications of his words hanging heavy in the air. But as he helped Hope into the backseat and climbed in beside her, he allowed himself to relax, just for a moment.

They had made it through the night and had played their parts perfectly. But as he looked at Hope, her head resting on his shoulder, her eyes closing as exhaustion finally caught up with her, he knew that this was just the beginning. It wouldn't get any easier or less dangerous than this, but whatever came their way, they would face it as true partners, and Seth would make sure that nothing and no one would ever hurt her again.