Black Light: Roulette Rematch (Black Light Series Book 20)

by Livia Grant

  “I thought that was what the olive oil was for.”

  “They both work but milk won’t leave you feeling slippery when you walk or stain your panties.”

  “Oh... Just… please hurry,” she pleaded softly, her tone a lot more respectful.

  I dunked a cotton ball in the milk and then pressed it against her anus, grabbing another before I carefully washed the folds of her sex. Her urgent whimper had me tossing the cotton balls away and plucking her off the table. A few steps later, I set her down and she ducked behind the curtain.

  By the time she returned, I had already put my things back into my bag, cleaned the countertop and thrown away the completely sodden paper from the table. I knew the staff would give it a much more thorough cleaning, but I wasn’t the sort of man to leave anything a mess… unless, of course, it was my submissive whom I totally enjoyed mussing.

  After she’d dressed, she reached up and took her hair down. The mass of red and gold curls tumbled down her back, her fingers serving as a comb as they raked through it.

  “Let me.” I turned her to face away as I pulled a new brush from my bag. “You really do have gorgeous hair.” I watched the strands smooth out beneath the bristles only to curl again when released. “With your eyes it reminds me of the sun sinking over the horizon of an ocean. I can confirm you’re a natural redhead, but I have never seen a ginger with blue eyes before.”

  “It’s pretty rare. Both parents must have the recessive gene to pass on to their child.”

  “Whatever the biology, the combination is beautiful on you.”

  “Thank you,” she said softly, turning back toward me.

  The fact her cheeks pinkened had me wondering if she were truly unaware of exactly how stunning she was.

  “Ready to spin again?” I asked, easily lifting her up to sit on the table while I helped her back into her heels.

  “Ready when you are,” she said and then laughed.

  “What’s funny?” I asked, buckling the strap around her ankle.

  “Master, doctor, masseuse, and now a stylist. You’re a man of many hidden talents, Mr. Foster. I was just wondering what other title you’ll have before this evening is over.”

  Grinning, I picked her up and set her on her feet. “Only one way to know. Let’s go find out what sort of mess your next spin gets you into.”

  Chapter 6

  Ember

  The sound of clapping surprised me as Braxton escorted me from the room. I had no idea how the acoustics of the room worked, but I’d never heard a sound from the hallway after the second tray had been delivered. I’d actually forgotten we had an audience once that incredible flogging had started.

  I squeezed my buttocks, the embarrassment of the enema and douche causing my face to heat. Looking up at the man who’d made it his job to educate me about the definition of chemical play, I said, “Who knew scientists aren’t anywhere near as nerdy as society portrays them to be.”

  “And now you can personally testify chemistry isn’t the boring subject most people think it is.” Braxton chuckled as we retraced our steps back through the club.

  The action had definitely increased. Splashing from the pool competed with the sounds of leather and wood slapping against flesh. The occasional cry of a submissive was accompanied by encouragement from the crowd.

  The fabulous orgasm Braxton had drawn from me had released some of the tension I’d felt since looking up and seeing him across the stage. He wasn’t just the stern, unyielding man I’d researched in preparation for the meeting. A sense of humor accompanied his play. He still expected to lead, but that was a requirement for any dom. The fact he was also capable of bringing me exquisite discomfort while still caring for my well-being was a definite bonus. That wasn’t to say I wasn’t still concerned about tomorrow, but morning was still several hours away. Until I stepped into the conference room, I’d do as Braxton suggested and leave Ms. Keller behind and do my very best to enjoy being Cinder.

  “Welcome back,” Mistress Madison said as we joined her on the stage. “I hope you’re enjoying yourselves.”

  “We are,” Braxton answered for both of us.

  “Ready?” Madison smiled and handed me the white ball, giving the wheel a spin.

  I didn’t hesitate this time. Releasing the ball, we all watched it bounce from slot to slot until the wheel began to slow and it settled into one. I still couldn’t read it as the spinning continued for a few more revolutions.

  “And the winner is”—Madison leaned forward and plucked the ball from its space—"Bondage.”

  “Yes!” I looked up at Braxton when he chuckled. “Please don’t tell me it’s one of your hard limits.”

  “Not at all and from your enthusiasm I’m guessing it’s not on yours?” he asked.

  I laughed and shook my head. “I love bondage. I know it’s an oxymoron but being bound sets me free.”

  “Need any definitions before we begin?” he asked.

  “What’s to define? You tie me up, we play, and you let me go. That’s pretty much it.”

  “Oh, babe, I can promise you that is so not it,” Braxton said, sliding his hand beneath my hair and wrapping his fingers around my neck.

  My blood instantly quickened as he brushed the pad of his thumb over my pulse point. Every cell in my body did a happy dance as he added, “Let’s go tie you up, shall we?”

  Passing through the velvet curtain after leaving the theater, Braxton paused for a moment, and I took the opportunity to really look around. Several raised platforms were placed about the large room where some couples were already involved in scenes. A sharp cry snapped my attention to one where a submissive was bent over a spanking bench. The elevation of the platform made the play easy to view. From the paddle in his hand and the color of her ass, I was willing to bet their spin had landed on some version of impact play. My flesh tingled in empathy. Braxton could add mastery of a flogger to his list of expertise.

  Braxton began to move again, weaving us around those people who were enjoying the scenes playing out before them. A lot of people. Instead of a few dozen in the hallway outside the fantasy rooms, over a hundred members were milling about in this area of the club.

  “Here we are.” Braxton dropped his bag onto an empty platform. “I need to go grab a few additional things. I want you kneeling with your hands on top of your head. You may sit back on your heels but keep your knees spread widely,” he instructed as he helped me step up onto the platform.

  “Yes, sir,” I said, linking my fingers on top of my head as I began to sink down, only to have him catch my upper arm and pull me upright again.

  “Let me clarify. I want you to strip naked before you kneel.”

  Of course you do…

  “Everything?”

  “That’s the definition of naked last time I checked. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

  I looked around and asked, “I don’t suppose your definition of bondage includes a blindfold does it?”

  Braxton shook his head. “Now what kind of dom would I be if I left you blind? You could step off the platform and hurt yourself.” He bent to kiss the tip of my nose. “And that is my job,” he added before stepping down.

  I watched his retreat until the crowd swallowed him up. This time I didn’t bother with the slow teasing of undressing. Removing my shoes, I set them off to one side. I neatly folded my dress and removed my stockings. Finally, I hooked my fingers into the waistband of my panties. I could almost feel his fingers, the memory of his touch as soft as the silk he’d slid over my flesh. I couldn’t help but think it had been far sexier when he’d removed them for me. Dropping my panties on top of the pile, I looked up to see a small group of people had stopped to watch. I felt my heart trip but didn’t know if it was from embarrassment at being seen naked, or excitement from knowing I was on display.

  This really was a dichotomy that never failed to have me wondering how I could be so buttoned up in my professional life yet feel an inexplicable need draw
ing me to the world of kinky play. Braxton had obviously picked up on it as well, helping me over the mental barrier by coaxing the naughty side of me to come to the party. The power of observation — combined with the ability to process information he discovered and use what he learned to form a plan of action to his benefit — was yet another talent the man seemed to have. A skill that would bear keeping in mind outside these walls.

  It would take time to consider that more fully, but a shifting of the crowd had me lifting my gaze and leaving such ponderings for later. Braxton stood at the front of the crowd. I had no idea how long he’d watched in silence, but I didn’t need words. I knew what was expected. Walking to the center of what was really a small stage, I sank down, preparing myself for the second act of our Roulette performance.

  Chapter 7

  Braxton

  Seeing Ember standing frozen, her hand lifted to her breast, hair the color of fire tumbling down her back, brought one word to mind when I broke through the ring of spectators and saw what had captured their attention.

  Stunning.

  The look in those remarkable eyes was one of a woman seeing things beyond this room. It was so easy to imagine her as Botticelli’s muse when he’d brought timeless beauty to canvas with The Birth of Venus centuries earlier. As if sensing my appraisal, her eyes cleared, and a small smile curled the corners of her mouth. It only lasted for a second before she seemed to realize she wasn’t exactly in the position I’d requested. She spun around and had already knelt by the time I’d taken the last few steps to join her.

  I took a moment to unbutton my cuffs, enjoying the hitch of her breath as I slowly rolled up my sleeves. Ember might have requested a blindfold, but from the way she kept sneaking glances around her, it had most likely been more of a request of momentary panic about being observed than a desire to block out the view of what was in store for her. She’d proven she enjoyed play, but I was willing to bet she was pretty new at the exhibitionist element. My job was to ensure that by the time I was done she was far more concerned about getting off than getting stared at by total strangers.

  I took the band I’d used before from my pocket and walked over and squatted down in front of her. I could not only see the signs of arousal glistening on her labia, I could smell it.

  “Go ahead and put your hair in a ponytail high up on your head,” I said, offering the band.

  After her hair was out of the way, I helped her to her feet and moved her a few steps to one side as a couple of DMs arrived with the items I’d requested. After showing them where I wanted things set up, they quickly went to work. As connections were made and bolts secured into the floor of the platform, the pair circled the apparatus, each checking the other’s work to ensure everything was ready for play. Never one to leave such responsibility to another, I followed behind, shaking the frame, making sure each point of contact to the floor was secure. When it didn’t budge with my weight, I was satisfied it would hold my submissive safely.

  Another staff member arrived with the items I’d purchased from Dominic in the costume shop, setting them on top of the tall stool I’d requested. Botticelli might have used oils to capture Venus’ beauty for all time, but paints weren’t really my thing. I preferred rope… lots of rope with a few additional accessories to heighten the experience. Dominic’s assistant, Annie, had assured me she knew exactly what would perfectly complement the jute I’d chosen.

  “Thank you,” I said when the men stepped down.

  “You’re welcome. If you find yourself in a knot, just holler. I’ll be happy to show you the ropes,” Weston offered with a grin.

  I’d watched him in action on more than one occasion. Weston was not only an expert when it came to shibari and all things bondage, he was also known as somewhat of a comedian.

  “I think I can handle it,” I told him as he chuckled and left me to do exactly that.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Ember said as I led her toward the equipment.

  “Tonight is indeed full of firsts for you, isn’t it?” I asked as I turned her to face me so her back was against the large wooden wheel. “I suppose the best way to describe it is to say it’s a cross between a St. Andrew’s Cross and a sex swing.” Taking her hand, I lifted it above her head. “Reach up as high as is comfortable and hold onto the spoke. Spread your legs as wide as you can. Back straight, and stick those tits out for me,” I instructed, not missing her soft inhale at the crude order, but loving the instant compliance.

  After placing cuffs around each limb and securing them to the wheel, I picked up the first coil of rope. I didn’t rush. I had no desire to cut off any circulation. I wrapped the jute around her right breast a few times, making sure the tension was enough to get her attention, but not enough to be too uncomfortable since she’d be here a while. Measuring the length, I tied the end of the rope off around the same ring holding her right wrist in place. Once I’d repeated the procedure on her left breast, I stepped back to check for symmetry. Ember’s breasts were rather large for her petite size but with the rope constricting them, they were now huge. The roundness of both exaggerated into the shape of very full, very ripe, luscious melons.

  “Color?” I asked, reaching up to palm her breasts, my dick twitching as she moaned with even the slightest pressure of my fingers manipulating the tissue.

  “Green,” she answered softly.

  Satisfied she was good to go, I opened another package and once again, crouched down before her.

  Her labia were slippery beneath my fingers as I ran them between her lips. A circle around her clit peeking from its hood had her hips bucking forward.

  “My, my, you are soaking wet. Aren’t you quite the dirty girl?” I taunted.

  “Oh… um… I… yes, Master,” she said, her words broken as I continued to slide my finger along her slit.

  Pulling on her left labia, I opened the clamp in my hand and positioned it before allowing my fingers to close.

  “Ohhhh!” she cried, her body going rigid as rubber-coated teeth took their sharp bite of very tender flesh.

  I tied the rope attached to the clamp around her thigh. This time when I ran my finger over her sex to take hold of the right lip, she whimpered, the sound going straight to my cock.

  Anticipation truly was a beautiful thing.

  Her cry was sharper as the second clamp bit down. Satisfied they’d keep her sex open, I bent forward and gave her now even more prominent clit a kiss before I straightened. Her nipples were tight little buttons as I began to roll them between my fingers.

  “Bondage involves far more than simply being tied up,” I said, giving each nipple a sharp twist that had her gasp before I released them and reached for the next fashion accessory.

  Her eyes dropped to my hand dipping into the bag.

  “Ropes are only the basic items that can be used to bind someone. These are another,” I continued as I pulled out the first string of clothespins. Slowly opening one, I then let it go quickly, the wooden jaws snapping together as my little submissive’s mouth snapped closed in a startled yip. I traced around the rope holding her breasts so beautifully in place. Though the skin looked taut, I knew the magic of elasticity ensured there was still give. I placed the open jaws of the first pin around the small amount of flesh I pinched between my fingers and slowly released my hold.

  Ember alternated between sucking in quick breaths and chewing on her bottom lip as I continued to place clothespins around the circumference of her breast. After placing the last one, I gave a tug on the end of the string and was rewarded with a sharp mewl. A quick run of my fingers through her sex assured me that, while she was no doubt suffering a bit of discomfort, her body loved every bite.

  Lifting my soaked fingers to her lips, I said, “Open, dirty girl.” Once she obeyed, I added, “Lick.” Her tongue came out and lapped at my fingers, cleaning them of her own essence. It was erotic as fuck and had my dick protesting its confinement, but I wasn’t yet done.

  I repeat
ed the process, encircling her right breast with the second set of clothespins and then joined the two strings together with a clip that bounced against her sternum with her every breath.

  Reaching into the center of each circle of pins, I took hold of her nipples and gently squeezed, the sound from her throat half mewl and half growl. “Can’t leave these pretty little nips without their own embellishment now, can we?”

  “I… I’m not sure I can take clamps,” she said.

  I’d taken into account how sensitive she’d stated her breasts were and had no intention of using clamps on them. That didn’t mean I wasn’t going to bind them. I definitely was but would use a different tool. This time when I pulled my choice out, her expression at the sight was a combination of confusion, curiosity, and trepidation.

  In other words, it was exactly what I wanted to see.

  The clear plastic cup covered her nipple and fit perfectly into the center of the clothespins. I began to compress the bulb at the end of the tube. Her reaction was instant as the suction began to elongate her nipple.

  “Omigod…” Her eyes were glued to her breast, each compression drawing her nipple further into the cup. “Oh. My. God!” she keened when her nipple had grown to twice its normal length.

  “Color?”

  “Uhhh… I… ummm… oh… omigod…”

  Not sure if it was my question or her fascinated horror that had her unable to give a coherent answer, I ceased squeezing the bulb and lifted her chin with my fingers until her gaze met mine. “I need a color, Ember.”

  Her eyes were glazed, but she blinked and then nodded.

  “That’s not a color,” I admonished with a chuckle. “Do you want to stop?”

  “Noooooo…”

  Pleased, I gave her another choice. “Do you need a break?”

  “No… I’m good. I just never… never had…”

  “Your nipples hoovered?” I supplied when, once again, she simply paused mid-sentence.