REVEAL - Scorpio & Harlan (Fettered Book 2) (8 page)

I
n fifteen years
, I’ve done about every flavor of aftercare there is. This is the really good kind. The kind where a sub can rise up out of where she’s been and meet me on totally level ground and dig into the energy of having just done something fucking amazing together.

Scorpio’s totally sliding back into her skin, but she’s letting me touch it. Staying open. Telling me truth.

I just want to cuddle into her and stay there for about a week. Right after I fuck her silly so that my cock doesn’t die of delayed gratification. Or even without that.

Which is a thought I’ve had in the last fifteen years exactly never.

I stroke her delectable ass again and my hand isn’t totally steady. Fuck. I need to get my head back into my job, because this debrief isn’t nearly over. “The anal play pushed on you.” Harder than I’d expected for a woman who’s done the kind of time she has on Fettered’s couches. No way this is shame for her.

She’s nodding, and I can see the confusion in her eyes. “Yeah. I’m not sure why.”

I let my fingers travel a little closer to the region we’re talking about. My hand is steadier now—it knows how to do this part. “How does it feel when I head in that direction now?”

She’s already shifting, spreading for me—and tensing up. Which tells me plenty, but I want to hear it from her. I take her leg, pull her thigh up over my hip, and keep stroking her ass crack. She’ll learn far more from her body on this than she will from her mind.

She’s quiet for a long time, following my hands from inside her skin. When her eyes finally unhaze, she looks a little sheepish. “I don’t think anal play is the problem. I think it’s a control thing. I didn’t have any, but I had time to think. With the flogger, I got overwhelmed with sensation so fast there wasn’t time for my head to get in the way.”

Smart, intuitive sub. “How close were you to your safeword before I used the vibrator button?”

Her eyes get really serious. “Very. Sorry.”

I have her chin in my hand so fast neither of us knows what’s landed. “Don’t ever apologize for that.
Ever.
You need your safeword, you even think you need it,
you use it.
You went to lots of edges for me today, and you’ll go to lots more, and you never need to feel weak or sorry or like you failed me in any way if we find one you don’t want to touch. Got it?”

She’s staring at me, eyes huge. And then this totally soft, fragile smile sneaks onto her face. “Yeah.”

Every Dom instinct I have jumps to attention. The ones that heard her words about surrender that isn’t weak. The ones that saw her lean into a flogger and draw her lines on pain with easy bravery, and then nearly safeword on a kind of play that’s all about vulnerability. The ones that have heard her apologize more in this bed in an hour than she should in a year.

She’s just handed me the keys to something huge, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Her sharpest edge isn’t pain or owning her needs or surrendering control.

It’s fear of being weak.

I cuddle her in closer to me, because I know the stark intimacy of this moment, even if she won’t for a while. I know there’s no rush. She’s mine now, and I’m not letting her go. Not until we unlock the cage she’s just let me glimpse.

I stroke her from shoulder to hip, loving the curves of her. “We can stay here as long as you want. More food? Nap? Wild, crazy sex?”

She grins at me. “Why do I think you’re not serious about that last one?”

I swat her ass again, just because I can. “Topping from the bottom already?”

She sticks out her tongue. “Am not. You brought it up.”

I did and she’s right and while we’d clearly both be pretty damn happy if I took her up on the easy invitation she’s exuding, I know better. We need to have the lines clear and straight and true between us before we blur them like that, or we aren’t going to get to the edges she needs.

The ones I can smell.

She traces a finger over my tats, as if she’s reading the writing on my wall as easily as I read hers. “I’m actually coming back here tonight.”

That wasn’t what I expected to hear. I pull up the club schedule in my mental calendar, wondering what the heck she’s coming back for—and roll my eyes when I find the answer. “Charades night?”

She grins. “Yup. Ari invited me ages ago.”

That’s interesting. Charades might sound mellow, but it’s generally not an event where non-members get invited, even really easygoing, accepting ones. I might have the best nose in the business, but Ari’s not far behind. I’m not the only one who smelled this sub on her way.

I tug Scorpio into my chest. If I’m suddenly attending charades night, I need some sleep first. “Nap. Food. Then you can go home and put on something sexy to wear while you sit in my lap tonight.”

I can feel her eyebrows winging up. “I’m not playing charades from your lap.”

I laugh, and I can feel it vibrating both of us. “Want to bet on that?”

She doesn’t answer. I grin. Smart sub.

“
S
ettle down
, people.”

I haven’t moved since Ari plunked me down on a stool at the bar beside Marla and told me to stay there, but her clarion command has the rest of the crowd finding a perch and mostly getting quiet. I know about half the people in the lounge, and the other half seem to know me. But I’m acutely aware I’m the newbie in the room. Nobody’s said a thing—but it’s obvious in the way they touch each other, know each other, crack up laughing with nothing more than a wink or a growl.

I see Harlan sliding in from the dungeon and let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. He leans against the door and looks me up and down, and that fast, my skin remembers what it is to be touched by him.

Marla chuckles quietly beside me. “Ooh, you picked a good one for your first ride.”

I’ve sat in this lounge and heard that kind of teasing for years now—but this is the first time it’s personal. “I think he mostly chose me.”

That gets another laugh, and then we’re all turning our focus to the woman running the show. Ari’s dressed in a red silk teddy, tight black latex leggings, and enough personal charm to run the known world without even having to work hard.

She winks at me, and I feel pretty damn happy to be part of that world.

“Okay, people. Basic charades rules, and if you don’t know what those are, someone will be happy to spank you if you goof up. It’s musical tonight—song titles and lyrics, and some of you are probably old enough that you’re going to hate me by the end of the night. No serious scening while we play, and the winning team gets to name the song the losing team has to dance to.”

Some ham in the corner of the couch furthest from me stands up and starts shaking his hips, sending a bunch of silver discs shimmying merrily.

Ari laughs. “Sit down, Ronny—you haven’t lost yet.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He sits down, blowing her kisses.

I get the message. This isn’t a night where subs are going to be on their good behavior. I glance over at Harlan, grinning—and find him devouring me with his eyes.

Damn.

Ari holds up a hand. “Before we start, five-minute break for those of you who need to pee, adjust your anal plugs, or have a chat with your Dom or sub. Limits matter tonight just like any other night, so if you don’t know what yours are, sort them out fast.”

I’m trying to imagine what limits might be necessary for a miming game, but most of the obviously paired people in the room are leaning their heads together, so clearly Ari understands something I don’t. I’m beginning to suspect that there’s a whole lot of somethings I’m clueless on right now.

An arm slides around my waist from the back, and I’m snugged up against hard Dom muscle faster than I can bleat in protest. I struggle momentarily, not at all sure I’m ready for this kind of public claiming.

The growl in my ear isn’t remotely sympathetic.

I freeze, registering Harlan’s body language—and how many eyes are subtly and not so subtly turned our way. Oops. I relax into him, apologizing in the best way I know how.

His arm eases. “I should have warned you that I can be an overbearing bastard.”

I grin—at the moment he’s nuzzling into my shoulder and doing a good impression of a teddy bear. “So tell me why Ari thinks we need to be talking right now. The rules seem pretty clear.”

“Those are the club rules that apply to everyone. She wants to make sure you know my rules for you tonight.”

That has my body wanting to tense up again, but I do my best to relax. “I just came here to play charades.”

Another growl. “You came here as my sub.”

I freaking wish his gravel didn’t make me quiver so damn fast.

His free hand cups my breast, brushes over my nipple. “Shh. Easy, beautiful. You can set ground rules if you need to as well.”

I’m so lost. “This is charades.”

He picks me up and turns me around, and I suddenly find myself standing between his legs as he leans on the stool I just vacated. His eyes are full of amusement. “I could tell you that you need to sit naked in my lap all night, or I could insert your favorite vibrating egg and tell you that you can’t come unless your team wins.”

“Are you freaking kidding me?”

His laugh rumbles out into the room. His hands are solid on my hips, his thumbs rubbing circles on my belly that are anything but soothing. “Just letting you know some of what you might see tonight.”

I gulp. I’m so not in Kansas anymore. “So what are your rules for me?”

He grins. “Just one. Sometime before you go home tonight, I want you to ask nicely to come for me. It can be as private or as public as you want.”

It’s all I can do not to rub my legs together.

He’s watching me in the way that I already know means he’s seeing everything, and his eyes are gleaming. “Or maybe I’ll just slide my fingers into your pussy right now and let everyone hear how beautiful you are when you shatter.”

The whimper that escapes is me is wanton and pissy and more than a little desperate.

He brushes his thumbs over my nipples. “One orgasm tonight, and only one. You decide when, you decide where.”

I can barely breathe. “I guess that leaves you deciding how hard, how fast, and how long, huh?”

His eyes go molten. “And how many times I’ll be spanking your ass before you get to come.” His hands on my nipples pull me in, and he’s not being gentle anymore. “I’ll be keeping track, beautiful. Every sass, every swing of those hips where you try to tease your Dom, every time you think something sexy and don’t come over and tell me what’s got you all hot and bothered.”

I’m so fucking wet I can feel it starting to soak into my jeans.

He smiles, and I know he can tell. “We’ll start with three for the sexy outfit you didn’t wear tonight.”

I’m in jeans and a tank top. “This is as sexy as punk rockers get.”

Whatever he’s going to say is interrupted by clapping from behind me.

“Time’s up.” Ari sounds way too damn cheerful. “Find your team couch and keep your hands wherever they’re supposed to be.”

I turn around, trying to pull my brain out of wherever Harlan has just sent it, and discover that lots of the people in the lounge are now in various shades of halfway naked, and more than one sub has a rosy ass or nipple clamps or the slightly stilted walk that means they’re wearing things I can’t see.

I breathe in, knowing I’ve landed in the big leagues, and feel Harlan’s hand at my back. Steadying me. Pushing me forward. Reminding me I have every right to be here, and that I know most of these people and like them a lot.

Ari grins and waves me over to her couch. She shimmies over to one side to make room for me and then gasps, glaring at a hot young guy in leathers on a different couch.

Marla laughs from my other side. “He’s just waiting for a chance to paddle you, Ari—don’t get his hopes up so fast.”

Ari snickers and then sucks in her breath again. This time she moans a little before she finally exhales. “Damn. He’s got evil timing.” She takes a couple more breaths and then shoots me a look. “You okay with this, sweetie?”

I can see Marla tuning in too. Two women who know the deep end really well, making sure the newbie doesn’t go under. Something inside me unfurls into their solid warmth. I’ve sat with friends riding highs, riding crashes, doing deep damage to their ability to live happy and sane in the world. This is so much different. So much better.

I grin at Ari. “Harlan says I only get one orgasm tonight. Bet you come before I do.”

Her eyes flash with hilarity and pride and competitive fire. “You’re on, chickadee.” She looks over at Harlan, sitting quietly on a couch between Damon and a guy I don’t know. “Get her riled, will you? I need her to come before I do. Cookies are on the line.”

I splutter, but I know better than to fight sneaky tactics with petty whining. I look at the man she was glaring at earlier. “I’m pretty easy, so you might want to get on that. I hear she likes to bake naked.”

He grins at me, and suddenly Ari’s squirming again.

And oddly, as I sit between one woman on the brink of orgasm and another one who’s laughing so hard she might pee at any moment—I feel as easy and as loved and as accepted as I’ve ever been.

I
need
her in my lap. Not to stake my claim, but just because I have the crazy need to touch her and hold her and feel her against my skin, and to honor the journey she’s walking tonight.

But I’ve already figured out that she needs to walk this part alone. To sit in the middle of my tribe and feel her way to however she wants to belong. Marla and Ari are making sure she has every possible opportunity—and where they go, everyone else will follow.

I wonder if my sub has any idea just how well everyone in this room is reading her. Her poker face blew wide open on a rock wall late last night and it’s never come back. Her bravery and loneliness and hope and longing are written all over her.

Along with how desperately she wants to ride my fingers again.

Letting her pick when and where isn’t a beginner game. It’s going to confuse the lines and I’m going to have to fix that later, and I know better than to rile up a newbie sub this much without giving her anything obvious to hold on to. But she asked for the times in between, and this is one way to get them, even if the rules aren’t as clear and easy.

I watch Scorpio’s face light up with laughter and more than a little embarrassment as Ari’s Dom for the night has her squeaking and stuffing a hand between her legs.

Damon and I are keeping an eye on him, because this is his first night here, but so far he totally has Ari’s number. It’s good to see. Not very many people can get that far with her—not with her still this happy and obviously angling for whatever they put on the punishment menu together.

I grin at my sub. I’m pretty damn pleased with that particular item on our menu tonight too. It was a last-minute addition, a way to have fun with her and give her permission to let her mouth run free. I see her looking at me and I hold up another finger. I don’t even know what she’s done to deserve it, and it doesn’t matter. Her bent over my knee, ass squirming in the air, is a reward I plan to collect on.

Scorpio sees my finger, sighs, and shakes her head ruefully. Then she holds up three fingers, which nearly blasts a cock-sized hole in my vaunted self-control.

She’s getting to me, this sub who likes to let loose and who likes to play and who isn’t remotely afraid of her edges or mine or the stuff that is somehow leaking out into the middle. I get up and walk over behind her couch and slide my head down beside her ear. “For someone who’s never been spanked before, you seem pretty sure you’re going to like it.”

She’s shivering, but manages a cocky grin. “Who says I haven’t been spanked?”

Ari snickers beside me. I raise an eyebrow at her Dom. “I hear she likes to bake naked.”

He grins and obliges me, and I nuzzle into my sub as Ari turns into a puddle of girl trying to withhold orgasm and rapidly losing. “I say.”

Scorpio’s having a hard time ignoring the action right beside her. Her eyes are on me, but her breathing is going haywire.

My respect for Ari’s new Dom ratchets up sharply when he turns off the remote about half a second before she loses it entirely. I hold up two more fingers for my sub and walk away, leaving her to figure out why.

It would be fun to have her in my lap for the rest of the night, but it’s more fun watching her reactions—and for that I need to see her face. I join Emily’s team and send Quint packing. He’s got the best view of the face I need to see. He goes without a murmur of protest and takes his tiny fireball of a trainee sub with him. She’s clearly not new to the lifestyle or he wouldn’t have her here. She casts a knowing glance at me as she leaves, and I know it’s not only the Doms watching the action tonight.

I grin. I like it when people watch.