Page 25 of Deeper

She scoffs and glances around the room before saying, “I trust you in here—with my body. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, but I don’t trust anyone completely.”

I wouldn’t trust any part of me with any part of her, but I guess there is a sense of safety for her here, in the club.

The equipment—the bondage set in the center of the room—draws my attention. It’s a platform for her to kneel on. A bar that looks like a guillotine but without the blade rises from the front of the stand. The bar isn’t for her head, though. It’s for her hands.

“Kneel,” is all I have to say.

And she drops her coat to the floor and kneels. I bind her ankles with the attached leather straps and stand back to admire my capture.

She’s in all red tonight, and the sight of her briefly stuns me. Her tits are pushed up high, practically spilling out of the corset laced down her back. The set of strings impersonating a pair of panties does nothing to hide her wet cunt or the cheeks of her ass that I plan to redden. My dick swells behind my jeans at the thought.

“Arms behind you, on the bar.”

Without protest, she obeys my command, but before I can lock up her wrists, she speaks, causing me to pause, “One more thing, my safe word is apples, but I doubt you’ll hear it from me.”

“Apples? That’s an odd choice, right?”

“I think it’s perfect.”

There is a hidden secret within the smile she throws my way as the lock clicks, securing her wrists.

She’s mine—on her knees, restrained, and at my mercy.

I’m going to fucking love this. I pull the paddle from Rylan’s bag and glide back to her, so I’m standing behind her but just off to one side. I touch her lightly, trailing it from her shoulder and down her spine and ending with three light taps across her flawless ass cheek.

“Are you nervous yet, Little Bird?”

“Not even a little.”

I lean forward, so I can whisper in her ear, “Well, you should be.”

I am going to fuck her, but first, I want to show her just what a bad idea it was to leave me the other day. A little voice in my head taunts me, telling me that it isn’t just about my wounded ego. That I’ll get off on bruising her skin in the same way I got off on carving the number into my last victim’s chest.

“Are you ready, Little Bird?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to ruin you.”

She moans. She fucking moans as the words leave my mouth.

Fucking Christ.

“You can try.”

WHACK.

The paddle vibrates in my hand as I bring it against her skin. An angry red mark begins to appear on her left cheek.

She turns to look over her shoulder at me, lust glazes her eyes as her lips part, and she breathes a single word, “More.”

I bring the paddle down again, my dick hardening at the satisfying noise it makes as it lands on her skin. Her eyes flutter closed, as if she’s in ecstasy, as I deliver another.

When I manage to drag my eyes away from her face, I find an imprint of the paddle clear on her skin. My fingers move to trace it, and heat radiates against the palm of my hand as I soothe the sting with a gentle touch. She moans and begs for more.

Breaking her will be harder than I thought but a lot more fun.

A crowd of people begins to form outside our room, peering at us through the glass.

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