Comforting Touch (Touch #5) (13 page)

Chapter 14

After my gig the following night, I stop at Mark's table and chat with him and his partners for a bit. Oh, I'm totally stalling, but can anyone blame me? Rio's at the bar, looking irritated, and his brother and fiancé aren't here. Which means Gabe hasn’t changed his mind.

"Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt your date," I start telling Mark, but he shakes his head.

"Nonsense, honey. Any chance Evangeline gets for some girl talk works for me." He winks at his girl, who ducks her head.

"Amen to that." Brayden chuckles and takes a sip from his beer. "Earlier she tried to gossip about Gabriella with me."

I lift a brow at that, incredibly curious.

"But this is huge!" Evangeline argues. "She dumped John!"

Hot fuck.

"No shit?" I take a step closer to their table.

"Mmhmm." She nods with a gleeful grin. "After what he did to her on Valentine's a few weeks ago, she's finally had it."

"What did he do?" And why haven't I heard anything about this? I was walking on air after Rio surprised me on Valentine's Day. He cooked for me and then finished off with dessert and an intense bondage session in his dungeon. He used a new jute rope he'd purchased solely for the purple color it was dyed in that he said matched my eyes. But news about Gabriella would've cracked the daze. I'm pretty sure.

"He forgot their date." Evangeline shakes her head. "Poor girl. She even arrived at the restaurant, but he never showed."

"Bastard," I mutter. "I'm glad she dumped his sorry ass."

"Know what else?" Evangeline smirks, tongue in cheek. "Instead of throwing the ring at him like chicks do in the movies, she sold it and kept the money."

"My kinda girl!" Damn, I'm proud of her.

Midnod, Evangeline's grin fades, and she stills.

Then there are suddenly two hands clamping down on my shoulders. I squeak.

"I think I've let you stall enough now." Rio's husky voice tickles my neck, raising goose bumps in its wake. "Mark, I'll see you and your lovely subs this weekend?"

Mark raises his beer. "Wouldn’t miss it."

"What happens this week—" That’s all I get out before Rio stuns me by throwing me over his shoulder.

"Gah!" I shriek, to which Mark and Brayden laugh. Fuck, so do other guests sitting near us.

Rio chuckles and swats my ass. "We have a date in the dungeon, my love. See you guys later."

Mmmmmy love. Yes, please.

The bastard carries me out into the cold like that, though it only lasts a minute. Then he reaches his car, and he sits me down on the passenger's side.

"I could've walked, you know," I quip.

"Really?" He closes my door and walks around the vehicle to get in. "You seemed to have problems joining me at the bar, so I wasn’t sure."

I sulk at that, remembering the fact that Gabriel never showed.

"You were incredible as usual this evening." Rio leans over and kisses my temple before starting the engine. "I know you've said you don’t want anything beyond singing in bars, but you should at least record some of it."

His praise has buttered me up enough, but there's no forgetting the Gabriel issue.

"Your brother didn’t come," I mention quietly.

Rio sighs and gives my thigh a squeeze. "No, he didn’t. He's set on being stubborn."

"Well, I've always dreamed of being hated by my boyfriend's family, so yay me," I mutter sarcastically.

To my annoyance, Rio lets out a laugh in amusement. "That’s a bit of an exaggeration, isn't it? My parents adore you, and my brother has no issues with you whatsoever. I'm afraid your
dream
will go unfulfilled."

Oh, please. Okay, I admit that his parents are wicked cool and seem to like me. Not that I've met them; they live in Australia, but Rio's introduced us over Skype. But the part where Gabriel has no issues with me is total bullshit.

I give Rio a sugary sweet smile. "On Facebook you only have one brother listed, so unless you have another sibling hidden somewhere, you, dear Master, are full of it."

"I'll let the attitude slide since I haven't explained how tonight went yet," he answers, stopping at a red light. He grabs my hand and kisses the top of it. "We forget that Gabe wasn’t actually referring to you that morning when he and I argued. After I explained everything to him tonight, he said your situation was completely different. You did what you did in order to survive; you were a child without a family." He lets go of my hand to drive again once the light turns green. "In other words, he's as understanding as I am about your childhood, but he still believes what Miranda did was unforgivable."

Ummm. All right, while I'm practically giddy to be accepted by everyone in Rio's family, I'm a little irritated with Gabriel's reasoning. Because after having spoken to Miranda, I only feel sorry for her. I admit, I reached out to her at the club because I wanted to know how her arrangement with Rio and Nicholas had worked. The latter is obviously monogamous and would never go behind Kayla's back, but he and Rio were both in charge of Miranda during the punishment. Sue me for wanting to know if my Master fucked her.

I had a jealous moment, okay?

I tried to not let that show, though. I asked her if she was okay and how everything had worked. Thankfully, it had been a nonsexual thing. She'd been his house slave for a few days, and then the punishment had ended at the play party. And once I'd relaxed, to which she'd grinned and totally seen through me, we sorta became friends. She opened up about the theft, how ashamed she was, and I learned she'd acted out of desperation.

Miranda's sister is a flighty runaway who recently bailed on her kids.

Unless Miranda wants to alert CPS, she has no choice but to take care of her young nieces herself. She's told Nicholas and Rio the truth, but she refuses help from them, stating she wants to do it on her own and that she's too embarrassed after what she did.

How the fuck can Gabriel think that’s unforgivable?

I shake my head and look out the window.

Whatever—all I can hope is that Miranda accepts help soon. Regardless if it's my offer to babysit, Nicholas's offer to give her more hours at the club, or Rio's offer to help her with rent. 

"Your brother's kind of a jerk," I mumble.

"In this matter? Most definitely. We've butted heads countless times over the years. I love the guy, but he's spoiled as hell."

I huff and turn to Rio. "You grew up equally privileged with the same parents, and you're not a douchebag."

The corners of his mouth turn up. "Different tastes, different pursuits." He shrugs, and then smirks. "I'm glad you don’t think I'm a douchebag, though."

"Only when you deny me orgasms," I tease.

His eyes grow devious. "But I get off on hearing you beg, baby."

And beg I do. Shamelessly.

"By the way, when did you find me on Facebook?" he asks.

Shit, double shit, triple shit.

"Uhhh…"

"I hardly ever use it," he goes on.

"I, um, just found it one day." About eight years ago. Jeesh. Is it getting hot in here? I squirm in my seat. "I was curious."

Side-eyeing me, he grabs my jaw and brushes a thumb over my cheek. "Now I'm the one who's curious. About this little blush of yours."

Kill me now
.

"Is my beautiful little property hiding something from me?"

Why oh,
why
is lying a hard limit of his?

"Maybe," I groan in embarrassment. Slumping back in my seat, I fold my arms across my chest and screw my eyes shut. After that, the words come tumbling out in a rush. "Maybe I searched your name like eight years ago, maybe you popped up, maybe I checked in from time to time, maybe a little more when you were overseas. But I was worried! You actually got malaria when you were in Ethiopia! Do you understand how much that freaked me out? I almost messaged you."

Stunned silence is what I get in return.

I'll take that laugh I was hoping for
aaaany
second now.

Please?

As I open my eyes and chance a glance in his direction, a knot of nervousness forms in my stomach. His expression is too blank, and I can't get a read on him. He definitely doesn’t look mad, but he doesn’t appear thrilled, either.

"I'm sorry." I bite my lip. "I should've told you sooner, but I was mortified."

Eventually, Rio lets out a breath and shakes his head. At the same time, his hand finds mine again, and he holds it tightly. "Don’t apologize." He clears his throat. "Christ, don’t apologize. I'm just…shocked, I think. And I can't help but wonder where we'd be if you'd contacted me back then as opposed to now."

"My guess is you weren't done being grumpy and cynical then." I try to make light of it.

It works, and Rio chuckles quietly. "I fear you might be right, but I also know I never stood a chance against you." He kisses my hand. "Regardless, the man I am today is eternally grateful for you. And hearing this—that you worried about me—makes my admiration grow tenfold. You continue to amaze me, Chelsea."

My cheeks hurt from smiling so wide, and I gotta blink past the tears welling up in my eyes. It feels like he just took away the weight of the world from my shoulders.

Chapter 15

An hour later, we're home and I've showered and pulled back my hair—as instructed—in a neat bun. Heading down the stairs to the basement, I walk naked toward Master's dungeon where he told me he's setting up for our scene.

Instrumental goth metal and the sconces on the blood-red walls of the corridor lead the way for me.

When I reach the doorway, I see that the equipment has been cleared from one of the black-painted walls inside the dungeon, and the spotlights in the low ceiling have been directed to the emptied area.

Master is a fucking vision. His hair is disheveled and damp from his own shower, and he's only wearing a pair of well-worn jeans. He notices me while he's working the settings on his camera, and all he has to do is snap his fingers and point to the floor where I'm standing.

I fall to my knees and lower my gaze, my hands clasping behind my back.

Every Dom has his own set of rules, and I love learning Rio's ways. He's incredibly strict and demands perfection, a bar set high enough for me to always have a goal. There's always a challenge.

My biggest goal is to wear his permanent collar, but I know that can take time. It's a commitment as highly regarded as marriage in my opinion, and Master feels the same.

For now, I cherish his training collar, which he brings over soon enough. 

He speaks in a low voice as he smooths the leather around my neck. "Remember what we agreed to do when we got our test results back?"

Anticipation and excitement roll through me. "Yes, Master. We're going to have a TPE weekend." Total power exchange is something I'd love every once in a while, and the prospect of experiencing that this weekend with Master makes me wet just thinking about it.

"What else was I going to do?" He sticks a small key into the collar to lock it into place.

I shiver. "Review my sub journal entries."

He hums. "Very good. We'll begin first thing tomorrow morning, but I thought we could ease into it a little tonight. That way, you'll be more comfortable when Mark and his subs join us for dinner and playtime on Saturday."

I swallow, remembering one of his rules when we discussed TPE. I'm not allowed to speak unless there's a direct question, and that suits me perfectly fine, except…I sorta have a question right now.

"Permission t-to speak, Master?" Motherfuck, am I not too old for stammering?

"Granted."

Here goes. "How intimately will we play with Master Cooper?"

I thought for sure they didn’t share, but maybe I'm wrong. Either way, I need to mentally prepare myself before I attempt to witness Master with someone else.

"Look at me, little rebel."

I sigh internally and obey, definitely not expecting to see him smirking.

"Come on." He holds out a hand, and I take it, confused and curious. "This is why I wanted to start tonight. You've mentioned future play parties in your journal, and I noticed something."

He leads me over to the cleared spot and tells me to face the wall. Then he disappears, only to return with his rope bag.

"
No matter who we play with, I will focus on You, Master—hopefully to the point where I forget others are even there.
"

I recognize those words, and it takes me a second before I realize he's quoting me from my journal.

My spine stiffens as I feel his palms rubbing down my arms firmly. He kisses the back of my head, then retrieves a bundle of the purple jute rope he bought for Valentine's.

"Remember the position I asked you to practice?" he murmurs, and I nod obediently. The reverse prayer is nothing for newbies, and many have sustained injuries while trying.

"Yes, Master." I make sure my voice carries conviction. My Owner needs it. One night, we were browsing bondage art together online, and we both found the reverse prayer incredibly beautiful. I know I can do it.

Grabbing me by my biceps, he rubs and massages my arms, and I roll back my shoulders as much as possible. Then I cup my own elbows behind my back so he can get started.

"Perfect." He starts with a chest harness, the rope constricting me in the best ways. Around my shoulders, between my breasts, under, over, around once more. "
In the end, it's always about Your pleasure.
" Great, he's quoting me again. "
I will do everything in my power to please You, including acts I don’t enjoy. At the very least, I have to try when You include others.
"

That makes me slightly uneasy, but his skilled hands work me too well. The rope keeps most of my attention.

"Ready for the hands?" He drops another kiss to my hair.

I relax and close my eyes. Rather than answering him verbally, I twist my lower arms so my palms are able to meet behind my back. My wrists and shoulders protest a little, but nothing painful.

Master begins to tie my hands together immediately. "Numbness?"

"No, Owner."

He smiles into the kiss he gives my shoulder. "Perfect slave."

The praise and the rope take me beyond space and time. My mind floats away. The dull ache intensifies and morphs into pain, but the pleasure overrides it so far.

"Chelsea, can you repeat what you told me the first night I offered you my training collar?"

I bite down on my lip, processing his request. "As you wish. I said I'll obey you like a submissive obeys her Master. I'll consider myself property like an object to its Owner. And I'll worship you like the religious worship their God."

"Fuck." The word leaves him in a whisper, and he presses his nose to my neck. His arousal against my ass certainly doesn’t escape my notice. "That’s right, my love." He nips at my shoulder as he finishes the last knot. "How's the pain?"

While his warmth fades and I hear his feet moving away, I flex my fingers and roll my shoulders. It causes a flush of discomfort to bloom inside me, and perspiration beads along my hairline and chest.

"Seven, Master. No, six."

I hear his acknowledgment from across the room, followed by the quiet but distinctive sound of the camera.

"Bloody gorgeous." He joins me again, this time at my front. "Kneel for me."

I get down on my knees as gracefully as I can, noting he didn’t bring the camera. My guess is it's on its tripod, which is pretty much confirmed when another flash goes off a few seconds later.

"I want to cover these walls with photos of us." He peers down at me and strokes my cheek. "I want everyone to see my most precious belonging."
Jesus
. "I want to show you off." He smiles faintly and unzips his jeans. "But, sweet pet, contrary to what you seem to believe…and unlike other gods…I just want one worshiper. I want it all, Chelsea—with you and only you."

A gust of air leaves my lungs in a whoosh. The relief radiates from me. Next, my vision blurs, the pain gets more bearable, and my mouth waters.

Without a word, he cups the back of my head and brings me forward. As if I need coaxing. As if I won't swallow his cock greedily, willingly, for the rest of my fucking life.

I close my lips around his thick erection and take him as deep as I can—for the first time without latex in the way. His fresh, salty flavor hits my taste buds, and I can't help but moan around him.
God, finally
. I suck him hard, wetly, and hungrily.

Every time the pain grows fiercer beneath the tight rope, I try to block it out and redouble my efforts to focus on Master.

The camera captures the bound submissive who kneels with her hands in prayer behind her back, pleasing her Owner, who has his head tilted back in pleasure.

A drop of sweat trickles down his chest as he fucks my mouth. Curses and quiet groans slip through his parted lips.

He wants me and only me
.

This day can't get any better.

"Any numbness?" His hooded eyes meet mine, his cheeks flushed with desire. I shake my head no in response and suck him harder. My jaw aches, the pain in my arms causes tears to roll down my face, but none of it matters. "So fucking exquisite." He strokes a thumb across my hollowed cheeks. "Swallow every drop I give you." His head lolls back again, and I watch his Adam's apple bob. He grunts, curses, then shudders and rocks deep into my mouth.

Streams of come pulse out of his cock and slide down my throat.

When he's done, he backs away to catch his breath, and I try to catch mine, too.

"Master," I pant. "My fingers…" They're starting to go numb, and he'll punish me if I don’t tell him right away.

"Of course, sweetheart." Master scrubs his hands down his face then tucks himself away and zips up his jeans.
Pity
. "Pain scale?"

"Eight." I make a face.

He nods and grabs his emergency shears from his bag.

"But the rope, Sir," I protest. Rope gets cut all the time, but this bundle was special, dammit.

"Shush. I bought more than one, and even if I hadn't…" He snorts quietly and stands behind me, carefully beginning to cut up the rope. "There we go. Readjust for me slowly, okay?"

I know that, and I let him lower my arms inch by inch. In the meantime, a sense of euphoria washes over me. It always does. It's the releasing of the pain and the feeling of my chest not being squeezed together anymore.

I whimper and lean back against Master.

He hums and rubs my arms and neck, eventually squatting down behind me to capture me in his embrace. The floaty sensation is back. I get needy. Horny. His flavor lingers on my tongue, which isn't helping.

Then I feel his kisses.

His hands cupping my breasts. Massaging, stroking, pinching, teasing.

"Do you need your Owner, little rebel?"

I'm stuck in a heavenly daze. "Yes, Master. Always. Only you." My head rolls back to his shoulder, and I barely react when he picks me up off the floor and carries me over to…oh, joy. His gynecologist table.

I flush with both lust and embarrassment. I'm very comfortable with my body, and I have no qualms when it comes to desire. But
this
friggin' table…it can't leave me more exposed. It's not built for kink, so I guess that’s why it brings an extra sense of taboo.

Master doesn’t say anything about his plans, and I'm content not to know.

"You've been worried about the sharing, huh?"

He wants to talk about that now?
Now
?

"Answer me." He pinches the inside of my thigh.

I yelp and jump. "Yes, Master."
Head in the game
.

He grunts and uses Velcro to strap me into place. "I suppose that’s partially my fault. You subs talk, and I can only imagine what you’ve heard about me from the other girls." After getting supplies from a cabinet, he blindfolds me and sits down on a chair between my thighs. "Never assume anything, though. Always come to me with your concerns."

I hiss in pain when he attaches clothespins to the lips of my pussy.
Motherfucking God
. Then he rips off bits of tape and fastens the pins to my inner thighs, effectively keeping my pussy completely open for him.

"Such a beautiful cunt." He strokes the length of it with a finger. "Now, where was I?"
Man, I have no clue
. "That’s right. Sharing. I've always been fine with it, but it's been because of the lack of intimate feelings. I've never been in possession of someone I felt territorial about, Chelsea."

"Oh, my God." I gasp as he lowers his mouth to lick me. But an equal amount of bliss is from his words. The combination makes my head swim. I wanna squirm and hold on to him, but I can't move an inch.

"No talking." The bastard grins against my wet flesh, then takes my clit into his mouth and sucks on it. The Velcro straps strain at my jolt. "Fuck, you taste good. Know what else is new for me? Falling head over heels in love."

A breath catches in my throat.

I thought the day couldn’t get any better…

"Master, permission to—"

"
No
."

Goddammit! I wanna tell you I love you, too!

I'm about to burst. He says something like that, and then the magic with his tongue—fuck me running, I need to say it back! But he doesn’t let me. Instead he keeps driving me bonkers. He owns my pussy with his sensual mouth, fucks me with his fingers, and murmurs wicked promises about the future.

I sob with the need to come, but he denies me.

I tremble and mouth silent pleas, but he ignores them.

Then he stands up, and I hear the rustling of his jeans. Only a beat later, he rams his hips forward and hits deep.

I scream.

He stretches me as perfectly as he plays me.

Every thrust hurts when he rubs against the clothespins, but the pleasure of his cock is ever present, too. Slowing down, he keeps his strokes deep, but he lingers more and leans closer.

I feel his mouth kissing a trail up my throat to my mouth.

"I love you so much," he whispers, removing my blindfold. To prevent myself from responding, I gotta bite down on my lip. He smiles and wipes some stray hairs away from my forehead. "I'll spend the rest of my days striving to be the best Master for you."