Page 35 of Devoted
The main reason I wanted to combine efforts with Dom, the BDSM magician, was that I thought I could get away with being an assistant who hands him props every once in a while.
But, no, this man is riding me harder than Vivian did a week ago.
“So get over it, and build up some rhythm,boss.” Dom slaps my shoulder as he returns to our starting position.
When I follow his orders without a retaliating punch, I know I’ve become a better man than I was a decade ago.
A younger Knight, fresh out of disastrous marriage number two, wouldn’t have hesitated to clock the guy for speaking like that. Even if he was right about my attitude. Honestly, especially if he was right. I wasn’t one to listen to much logic or reason back then, including taking responsibility for my actions.
“Let’s try again,” Dom orders, counting us off.
I shut my mind off this time, pushing away my nagging complaints, and only focusing on doing this correctly. Failure is not an option. I can’t embarrass myself in this performance.
He takes the lead, performing his tricks while I mostly set up his next one or distract the audience withseductivemovements that usually just entail a flash of skin. However, some spots in the routine require Dom and me to be plastered against one another, performing those movements together.
I admire what a natural-born leader he seems to be, and how professional he is about ensuring his act goes perfectly. I’m impressed.
The routine goes a lot more smoothly than before, and Dom cheers for me by the end of our rehearsal.
While I’m sitting and wiping the sweat off my forehead with the end of my shirt, the magician comes up and stands before me with his arms crossed.
“It’s easier when you submit, isn’t it?” he asks, like it’s the most casual thing to inquire from someone who is basically a stranger.
“I’m sorry?” I reply as my mind freezes for a second. There isn’t any way he would know about mine and Vivian’s exploration of our dynamic. How could he know?
“When you shut off your inner voice and just go with the flow, it feels easier, right?” Dom asks, and I keep looking at him with confusion on my face. “During rehearsal, you did a lot better after you stopped grumbling.” He motions to the stage with a nod of his head. “Stop thinking so much.”
What in the fuck is this? The man who pulls dildos out of a top hat for a living has analyzed me after one reluctant rehearsal?
I stare at him, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, and I decide to take his advice andgive in.“Is it that easy to tell, or are you a palm reader as well as a magician?” I ask, my hostility transforming into curiosity with every second.
“I know a subby when I see one,” he states. “And before you get in my face about that term, it’s not one I use as an insult. You are what you are, just like I am what I am. Ain’t nothing wrong about it.” He offers me his hand to help me get up from my sitting position.
After staring at his hand for a second, I take it and stand, continuing to look at him like he’s truly made of magic. Hedoesn’t let go of my hand right away; instead, he shakes it twice firmly.
“My real name is Domingo. Nice to meet you, boss.” An easy smile, the first one I’ve seen from him, spreads across his lips.
Shaking his hand and returning the smile, I reply, “You can call me Knight.”
Finding camaraderie in BDSM… I never would have thought it possible.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
KNIGHT
You’re the whole enchilada.
“It smells great in here.” Vivian’s voice carries through the kitchen as I set down the hot casserole dish fresh from the oven.
After my rehearsal with Dom, I came home, cleaned up, and got to work on preparing dinner for our non-date tonight. When Vivian called it anon-datethrough text earlier, it irked me beyond reason. Inviting her over was never intended to be only a sex call; it’s been nearly a week since I’ve seen her, and I want to spend time with her.
Twice already, I’ve let her take pleasure from my body with the sole expectation that she graces me with her presence. If tonight ended in a similar manner, where I’m only used for her pleasure, I would say “thank you” and ask when she’d like to use me again.
We may have a label of keeping things casual, but she’s wrong about this being a non-date. She is in my home, and I’mcooking her dinner when I don’t even cook for myself: this is a fucking date.
An overnight bag slung over her shoulder, Vivian enters the kitchen with a shy smile. Her blonde hair is pulled back with a hairband, and she looks as stunning as ever with her pajamas already on. My chest tightens at the sight. I’ve never known her to be shy about anything, and I’m honored to see an expression just for me.
She’s not the only one who is nervous for tonight. We are still treading dangerous territory here, even with our agreement to remain casual. I should have realized my traitorous lie the moment I muttered the suggestion. There isn’t a scenario where I don’t fall in love with this woman, not when the feelings have been there from the moment I saw her.
