Page 62 of Balancing it All

Tiff didn’t realize she was crying until she felt the wetness dripping from her chin to the bare skin of her barely contained breasts, pushed into the constricting bodice of her corset dress.

They were all the way to the small elevator in Lukus’s office by the time she snapped out of her trance. As the doors to the elevator closed, he propelled her against the back wall of the elevator, pressing in on her with his hard body, placing his hands on the wall on either side of her head. He trapped her, their eyes locked.

“Tiff. Are you okay? I should have left earlier. I had no idea they were going to move that fast with the branding,” he said.

She was too shocked to say a word. Lukus moved to kiss her, but she turned her head. He landed a kiss on her cheek.

“Dammit, you’re upset.”

That was the understatement of the week. Her raised voice contained a hint of her sarcasm. “Upset? Me? Hell, no. I watch people purposefully get their body burned with a hot poker every day after having their own pussy sewn shut.”

“Tiffany, this was not a surprise to Miranda. She signed a consent form before the ceremony. She knew it was all coming.”

“Oh well, why didn’t you say that? That makes it oh so much better.” Her sarcasm was thick. She tried to push him away from her. She needed space to think.

He was having none of it. “That’s enough. Calm down.”

“Sure. Calm down. I mean, we just saw a poor woman being tortured by the man she loves, and no one helped her. What’s to be upset about?” Tiff hated the manic quality to her shaky voice.

The elevator dinged its arrival at the loft. Lukus’s eyes betrayed his growing frustration at her reaction. He barely moved away, yet she took her chance to brush past him, rushing towards the kitchen. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to do, but she knew she needed a few minutes to process tonight’s ceremony.

Tiff made a straight line to the wine rack in the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle, not bothering to read the label, and yanked the drawer open, spilling utensils to the floor as she clutched the corkscrew. As irrational as her burst of anger might be, her hands were shaking, making it difficult to open the bottle.

Lukus stepped close. She tried to push away, not wanting to be near him until she figured out how she felt about what she’d witnessed. To his credit, he didn’t reach for her, but the bottle. He made quick work of opening the wine, crossing over to the glassware rack under the upper cabinets, and pouring two full glasses.

He carried the long-stemmed glasses in his left hand, capturing her elbow with his right, and silently lead her to the great room. There was one small lamp on in the corner. Most of the room was lit by the city lights pouring in through the wall of windows. Lukus sat in a plush chair, not unlike the chair they’d been in downstairs. He handed her one glass before insistently pulling her to sit.

Tiffany’s spike of adrenaline had dissipated, leaving a weariness in its wake. She went to his lap without a fight. They snuggled in silence, each sipping their wine until the atmosphere started to tense.

Lukus broke the silence first. “I’m sorry I didn’t warn you ahead of time. I thought I could get us out of there before you knew what was happening.”

She sat up to look at him incredulously. “That’s what you’re sorry for? Not that you let it happen in the first place? I saw Derek. He asked for your permission to proceed. I didn’t get it at the time, but I do now. You could have said no, Lukus. Nothing happens at The Pit that you don’t approve of. I’m learning that. So, the fact that this happened means it happened with your approval. How could you?”

He had been looking out the window at the city until her insulting accusation. He turned to pin her with an angered gaze.

“I don’t judge other people’s kinks, Tiffany. This was important to them. They’re both consenting adults. It’s not my place to put limits on their relationship.”

She was ready to argue back, but his defense made her pause. Did she have the right to judge them? Was that what she was doing?

“So, where does it end? If burning someone’s flesh doesn’t cross the line, what does? We talked about blood play, and fire. What about knives? How about breath play? People can get hurt—they could die! Where is the line?”

He looked frustrated. “Tiff, safety is our number-one concern. Safety and consent. I would never have allowed the piercings or branding tonight if Derek hadn’t talked with Miranda and made sure she was completely on board. If I thought for one minute it wasn’t safe, I would have pulled the plug. You have to know that, baby.”

He looked sincere. She wanted him to be telling her the truth, but even the hint that branding was an activity he might enjoy freaked her out. She took a couple of big, deep-cleansing breaths before turning in his lap to face him.

“You have to tell me now, Lukus. Is this something you’d be looking for from me? I need to know what a Lukus Mitchell collaring ceremony looks like.”

She was relieved to see tenderness in his eyes as he gently brushed her long hair back from her face, grazing her cheek lightly with the backs of his fingers.

“In some ways, it wouldn’t be terribly different from tonight. I’d like our closest friends to be there to share the moment with us. I would never allow anyone else, including Derek or Markus, to touch you sexually, so you wouldn’t need to worry about that, but I have always wanted to consummate the bond in front of our witnesses as they did.”

“You mean you want us to have sex in front of our friends?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

His stare was intense. “I guess the question is, would you agree to that?”

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