Page 53 of Free Fall

We thanked and nodded to him, then our eyes locked, full of heat. There was excitement there, too, and I found myself desperate to get started. I was ready to do this. To let myself fall under another man’s spell, to learn if it was a fluke with him, or something I could share with someone else. I wanted to kick-start sex again, stop screwing dildos and my fingers and get a real cock inside me.

Brendan took my hand and guided me toward the back, his soft skin warming mine. It felt good.

I just need to stop comparing it to last time. To Luca’s heated palms, to his soft chuckle and rough bearded cheeks. To the way he commanded me, body and mind, with a few simple words. Needed to break the habit of comparison. Only then could I move forward. Shit. He was all I could see. After all this time, his presence was palpable in my mind.

When Brendan and I stepped over the threshold into room three, reality set in. It was a true BDSM dungeon, all red velour and black metal kink furniture. Too many variations to recognize. A bed with a cage underneath, straps and contraptions dangling from every corner. Various chairs were placed around the space, including one with a dildo pointed straight up from the seat and another one that had its base missing entirely. What looked like a medical examiner’s table, ropes and chains hanging from the ceiling, a wall of tools and devices. Too much for my poor self to take in without combusting. So I turned to Brendan, expectant.

He growled in pleasure, shutting the door behind us.

“You ready to begin, or do you need a minute?” he asked. Again with the comparison. I imagined Luca grabbing my hair by the fistful and shoving me onto the bed, making me stay still while he grabbed whatever took his fancy to ravage me. Luca was like a ghost in my head, a phantom on the edge of my vision telling me how things should be done, what I was missing. I blinked him away.

My wandering eyes made it back to Brendan. “I’m ready.”

“Then get on your knees, pet,” he said, his demeanor shifting. “And crawl to me.”

My body resisted, but unlocked one limb at a time. I sank to my knees, then to my hands. It was uncomfortable, I was still dressed in my too-tight skirt and blouse, and the back of my shoes dug into my ankles, but I did as requested, keeping my head down as I made my way to his feet. He waited, arms crossed, toe tapping.

“Good girl,” he cooed. “Now look at me.”

I did, looked right up at the man. Felt nothing from his appraising gaze. He stroked my cheek, my hair, and I pushed my face into him, nuzzling like I was enjoying myself as much as he was. I had myself convinced that I just needed to get used to it, that all I had to do was wait and everything would follow. The submission in my mind would flow out of my body if I kept going.

“I’m going to choose some toys for us. While I’m busy, I want you stripped to your panties and on your back on that table.” He pointed to the table with a control panel beside it and stirrups at its foot. “Can you do that, pet?”

I nodded, unsure if I should speak or not, something we hadn’t discussed. It felt natural not to. Like if I did, I might scream at him and run from the room. No, I wanted this. Idid.It was perfect, anything too emotional and I might crack.

He turned, and I stood, making my way over to the table. It had cuffs and what looked like a face cage hanging down above it. I eyed the intimidating contraption, wondering how it would work, as I stripped my clothes away, leaving them in a pile on the chair closest. Brendan was still humming over the toys when I climbed on with no grace. Eh, he couldn’t see me.

After about fifteen seconds, where I shuffled my hips into a more comfortable position, he turned, running a flogger through his fingers, the black strands spraying out as they fell from his fingertips. He dipped his head, his eyes darkening as he showed me the tool. He looked proud, arrogant, and opened his mouth to speak. I waited for the words to come, the demands of me or the vulgar language, a promise of what my body was about to go through. I waited for the words to come.

But they never did.

Because the door slammed open with a crash, and a looming figure rushed in, racing through the small space and crashing into Brendan. I screamed.

Ah, there was the flicker of arousal.

Twenty Nine

Luca

Mybodyslammedintothe fucker holding the flogger, and the security guards flooded in behind me. I’d wrestled past them, charged through the whole damn place with them shouting at my heels, shoving doors open and shoulder checking anyone in my way. I was three doors down in the corridor when I finally found a room occupied. By an almost naked Zelda and a shithead with a stupid look on his face, a fucking flogger in his hand and mid-step toward her.

No. Fuck that. Not happening.

He grunted in surprise when we landed on the floor, wrestling for dominance. I punched him, scrambling to fight off the security guard at my back, their hands all over me as they tried to tug me off. But I was heavy, and I was pissed, and they only managed to be an irritant as I pounded this asshole’s face.

“I’m going to shove this flogger so far up your ass it comes out your eyeballs!” I shouted, wrenching the toy he was still grasping free, slamming the hard end into his cheek. He yelled, his eyes glassy like his brain hadn’t caught the fuck up with the fact he was getting the shit beaten out of him. My world tunneled into destroying him, words and sounds blurring around us.

Zelda was screaming words I couldn’t understand. Still on the bed, yelling with her nipples out and pointed at the ceiling. From the corner of my eye, I could see a member of staff lamely attempting to cover her up, draping some fabric over her glorious tits while she fought them off, screeching and gaping at me and her buddy.

“Get the fuck off!” her playmate yelled beneath me, struggling to get out and away. I was raging mad though, didn’t stop punching him until the three security guards wrestled my hands into their grips and pinned me down. Still, I refused to let the man up, crushing him under my weight as he flailed his weakling hands out. No one was touching Zelda. Not like this. This was mine. She. Was. Mine. This fucker could die before he got near her.

“Luca?” her voice came through the fog of shouting, and I tore my gaze of hate from her new buddy. She flinched when my fury caught her, but schooled her features. “What the fuck?”

Semi dressed, her skirt hanging open and her top half on, she finished zipping and shoved her shoes on, her anger building with each movement. She appeared seconds from blowing. Excitement made my cock hard.

“You know him?” her friend exclaimed, straining to catch sight of her from under my body and through the three large security guards surrounding us.

“Brendan,” Zelda gasped, remembering he was there, her gaze darting to him with a sharp intake of breath. “Shit.” She looked at me, blinking her eyes. “Let him up, you asshole.”

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