51. Ember

51

EMBER

H udson finds me, like he usually does, and his stare sears through me. I’ve never felt so conflicted, and the look in his eyes tells me he knows it.

He walks up the stairs with the same determination in his eyes I saw when we first met.

Holding out his hand, “Come on.”

I squint, looking between his outstretched palm and his face, questioning him silently.

“I have a surprise for you.” He reaches his hand closer to me.

I slide mine into it, and he leads me down the stairs, past the voyeur rooms. I peek over at the corner we were stuck in as we watched Jake, Elena, and Christian, and the reminder provides a flutter to my core.

He stops in front of room six, scanning the keycard as it beeps and allows us to enter. I quirk up a smile.

“Cruz gave me a key, but made it clear his loyalty still stands with you. Just in case you were concerned.” He smiles at me, tossing the key on the table closest to the door .

We step into the room, and it looks the same as when I inspected it earlier tonight.

The large king-sized bed, with bondage posts on each corner, sits against the wall in the middle of the room. Other than some floggers, handcuffs, and a few other toys, the shelves are bare. Only a tripod sits in the corner, for anyone who wants to record themselves with their own video equipment.

We never decided on a theme for this room, so we left it as basic as possible and didn’t plan to give it any attention until after the soft opening of the club.

Hudson walks to the center of the room, shrugging off his jacket, and hangs it over a chair. Loosening his tie, he pulls it over his head and sheds a few of the buttons from his all black ensemble. Including the cuffs of his shirt that he rolls up over his forearms, and fuck me, he’s gorgeous.

I shift my stance, sucking my bottom lip in between my teeth. Everything about him is appetizing.

The look in his eye tonight is fierce, like he has something to prove. Yet, he paces, like he’s digging for something.

He’s both in full control and completely lost, and I feel like I’m witnessing a battle of will between the two in real time.

But I can tell he’s holding back, and I know what I need to do.

I push the straps of my dress down over my shoulders, and the silk fabric floats down off my body with ease. It pools at my feet and I take one step out of it, then bring my other foot forward. Standing closer to him in just my heels and mask.

His eyes flicker as he grazes his tongue over his lips, and his eyes trail my body from head to toe.

“Lie down on the bed.” His gravelly voice is a low tenor in the already too quiet room.

I step forward without challenge, my arm skims over the front of his body as I pass by. Turning around, I sit down and scooch myself back toward the middle of the bed .

He grabs the wrist and ankle cuffs expertly placed next to the bed, then comes back and stands in front of me.

He’s quiet, reserved. Not like Hudson.

Wrapping his fingers gently around my ankle, he straps the cuffs to each one, then does the same to my wrists.

He pauses for a minute, glancing up at the restraints on the bedposts.

“Hudson…” I dip my head so his eyes can find mine.

“Tell me you want this,” he says, still avoiding my eyes.

“Tell me you want me,” he clarifies. “Because if I strap you to this bed, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.”

I squint, confused at the softness of his voice, with the intensity of his body language.

He looks up, a fire burning in his eyes that sears my skin, giving me goosebumps everywhere.

He needs something. I can’t tell what, but I’m more than willing to give it to him.

I hold out my wrists.

Giving him permission.

Giving him control.