Electric Engagement

by Sidney Bristol

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Electric | Engagement | The Holiday Engagement Series | Sidney Bristol | Inked Press

  Christmas only comes once a year. The love that I have for you comes only once in a lifetime.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Electric

  Engagement

  The Holiday Engagement Series

  Sidney Bristol

  Inked Press

  O come, ye, o come ye-when your Dom tells you to.

  Carla is done being the quiet, obedient woman her parents raised her to be. She's ready to ask for exactly what she wants, no matter how dirty, naughty or taboo her desires run. One night of electrifying pleasure will shake her to her core and leave her with a choice to make. Ryan wants everything, and he's not taking no for an answer.

  Christmas only comes once a year. The love that I have for you comes only once in a lifetime.

  ―UNKNOWN

  Electric

  Engagement

  Boundaries were made to be pushed. At least that was what Carla had always believed, though at this moment she wasn’t so sure. Ryan had her tied spread-eagle in the archway leading to her dining room. The ropes created a spider-like web around her, which she could barely make out in the dim light produced by the Christmas tree. Her home was decked out for the holidays, with lights at every window and a tree in almost every room. It felt naughty to be trussed up like this with all the innocent, festive décor, but she liked it. She liked everything Ryan did to her.

  The rope had the barest amount of give, allowing her to lean forward and backward only a few inches. Ryan had taken care, not only tying her at the wrists and ankles, but also fashioning a harness around her chest and hips to support her. Or restrain her better. She wasn’t sure yet. Rope marks were some of her favorites. The beautiful, woven, swirling patterns on her skin were like a hug that wouldn’t let go.

  It was the only comforting thing about the evening so far.

  Carla wanted Ryan to challenge her. She wanted to be the woman who deserved him. They’d been together—what? Ten months? It felt as though they’d always known each other. As if he were the missing part of her soul she’d been looking for when she’d pushed her ex-boyfriend out of the door. She’d known, deep down, that she wanted more than feathers and silk restraints, and asking for it had opened the door to meeting Ryan. He was it for her. She just hoped she didn’t disappoint him. She was still so new to his world. Would she enjoy tonight?

  Carla shivered as something clicked and an electrical hum blossomed on the air. Her neighbor was playing holiday tunes on his stereo outside again, but the hum nearly drowned out the vocalist singing “Please Come Home for Christmas”. She sucked in a deep breath, her nipples tightened and she clenched her inner muscles. The way her nerves were all tied together, she didn’t know yet whether she regretted asking for this or she was drunk on the adrenaline of fear.

  Buzz.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

  She pulled against the hemp ropes again.

  This might not have been a good idea after all.

  A hand splayed against her stomach and Ryan pressed his body to her backside. His head dropped to her shoulder and he gently bit the tendon along her neck. Carla gasped at the sudden warmth, and flinched—but the expected zap never came.

  She panted for breath and wiggled her wrists, feeling the burn of the rope biting into her skin.

  Ryan cupped her breast, pinching the tight peak between his fingers. She loved his rough hands and the strength in his arms. Every day he saved lives and came home to her. Her personal hero.

  “Ah.” Carla arched her back and squeezed her eyes shut, loving the combination of almost-pain and pleasure.

  Ryan kissed along her shoulders and eased his hold on her flesh. The ominous buzzing was a constant sound in the background. An evil promise of what was to come.

  “Remember, you asked me for this, Carla.” Ryan’s voice was gruff, a quality that only came out when they played.

  “I did, Sir,” she managed despite a wavering voice.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

  “Good girl.” He slid his hand over to caress her other breast, a mere flick of fingers over sensitive skin.

  Carla stretched, arching into his touch as his palm coasted over her stomach and lower.

  “When did you wax?”

  She bit her lip, trying not to smile, and let her eyes drift closed. His fingers slid over her pubic mound and she wiggled her hips. The sensation was different now. She’d always kept herself neatly trimmed, but the promise of tonight’s play had pushed her to do something different. Something he might not have expected. It wouldn’t last. She felt too bare, but for one night, it was worth it.

  Ryan withdrew his hand and his body. A second later, her backside lit up like fire and a loud crack rent the air against the backdrop of buzzing. Carla cried out. The force of the blow against her ass knocked her forward, but the ropes around her limbs and body held her suspended. She gasped and scrabbled to hold on to the rope tied loosely around her wrists as Ryan spanked her thighs and each side of her ass.

  “You. Will. Answer. Me.” He punctuated each word with a firm swat.

  Carla squirmed, unable to do more than twist a little. Adrenaline coursed through her body, heightening her senses. The smell of the rope. His leather pants. Even the scent of ozone on the air.

  Arousal flooded her channel and she bit her lip harder, holding out for as long as she could.

  Ryan spanked the tender skin above her knees, and her legs buckled. If it hadn’t been for the ropes, she would have fallen.

  “Yes, Sir! I’m sorry, Sir,” she yelled.

  His touch was gentle, sliding over the abused flesh, petting the places that stung. Her ass burned, likely bright red. Ryan had always given her exactly what she asked for, without fail. Once he’d left deep bruises that had made her sit funny for a week because she’d wanted him to cane her.

  “When did you do it?”

  “This morning.”

  “Smart-ass masochist,” Ryan muttered, kneading her ass. “You realize anything I do to your pussy is going to be way more sensitive now?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Carla grinned. She didn’t know if she deserved to be called a SAM, or smart-ass masochist, but she liked it. Even better, Ryan seemed amused by her verbal banter. More often than not, her words brought about new and wicked punishments she loved.

  Carla braced herself for another blow, but it never came.

  Ryan stepped through the ropes that spider-webbed around the archway. He pulled an electrical cord after him, turning so she could see the implement in his hand. The violet wand glowed a pale purple in the dim light. It was made up of a plastic handle with a knob to control the intensity and a glass electrode that could be switched out for a variety of models. Most of the electrodes were glass and glowed.

  Carla leaned away from him, her gaze locked on the wand. She was a prisoner to this scene; she’d asked for this, but that buzzing, it scared her. Her gaze focused on the mushroom-shaped glass tube sticking out of the black handle, and her breath quickened.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

  She didn’t know what it was about the sound, but it stirred up completely irrational fears.

  Ryan brought the wand within inches of where her sternum and collarbone met, and froze.

  She panted, leaning as far away from him as she could.

  This was Ryan. She loved him. He wouldn’t hurt her in a bad way. She knew that as well as she knew her own name, but damn, that buzzing was in her head, all around her, putting her on edge.

  Maybe this was a mistake. She didn’t really want to play with electricity, did she? There were plenty of toys
they played with that she liked, from whips and floggers to wax and rope. Did they need to explore this kink too?

  The adrenaline mixed with fear was a delicious, addictive cocktail. It was that sensation which pushed her to try new kinks, especially with Ryan at the helm. There was no one more versed in the body and how it reacted to stimuli. She trusted him above anyone else. If his EMT co-workers knew what he was putting his skills to use for off the job, well, she doubted they’d approve.

  He lowered the electrode until sparks arced from the glass mushroom to her skin in a brilliant flash of blue light.

  Though it wasn’t more intense than a static shock, Carla screamed as he drew the wand down, following her sternum. The caress of electricity was as gentle as a feather, and actually tickled. At least until he twisted the knob as he stared at her. The hum grew louder, and the wand’s glow intensified. He brought the flat surface of the electrode to the point of her nipple, hovering until the electricity arced to her body.

  Carla jerked, her spine bowing forward as sensation jolted through her body. She felt the rush all the way to her toes. She thrashed against the ropes as he switched breasts. It didn’t tickle anymore. For once the ropes didn’t hug her, only held her in place for her torment.

  He went to a knee, drawing the electrode down her soft stomach. She sucked in, more to avoid the electricity than from self-consciousness. Ryan had never skimped on his praise of her. He traced her navel, the curve of her hip. While the first zap hadn’t been that bad, the longer this went on, the more intense the sensation became. It didn’t quite hurt and it no longer tickled, but it wasn’t exactly a good feeling. Blood rushed past her ears and every fiber of her body was aware of the command this man wielded over her.

  Carla dropped her gaze to Ryan’s face. The outside lights must have turned on. Cheerful, multicolored dots of light flashed on the floor and across his face. His dirty-blond hair was painted red, and the strong lines of his face purple by the glow of the wand. His chest was bare save for the light, wiry hair dusting his pecs and leading down past the band of his pants.

  As she stared at him, the wand didn’t seem quite so intimidating. Her mind cleared of everything except what he made her feel and the look of rapt concentration on his face. Ryan was a master at what he did. She trusted him, even if right now she wasn’t excited about it.

  His gaze rose, locking with hers. His entire focus was on her and how he was making her feel. In this moment, she knew she was the center of his world and that she’d do anything to please him. This wonderful, caring man who’d walked into her life when she hadn’t expected anyone.

  She sucked in a deep breath, sudden tears pricking her eyes.

  “What is it?” He lifted the wand from her skin. Of course he would know the instant her thoughts drifted.

  He was so attentive, so acutely aware of her during play in a way she forgot. Always aware of the slightest shift.

  Her broken past was not about to come between them. She inhaled and shoved the toxic memories back in the garbage where they belonged. Instead she fixated on the Dominant who’d caught her, with every intention of keeping her.

  “Is that it?” she said between breaths.

  “Oh baby, we’ve barely begun. You did say you wanted to push your boundaries. I’m only doing what you begged me to do.” A grin slowly spread across Ryan’s face. She knew better than to think she’d dissuaded him from searching out the pain, no matter how slight. It was as if the man were determined to put all her broken pieces back together by sheer force of love.

  He twisted the knob at the base of the wand, and his lips curled upward with wicked intent. Her stomach flip-flopped. Maybe she should have rethought her choice of words?

  He wouldn’t.

  Ryan lifted the wand once more to her right breast. She twisted, or tried to. There was no escaping his purpose.

  “Fuck you,” she yelled as the kiss of the wand coasted over the curve of her breast. Little bursts of color blossomed behind her eyes. She groaned, the pitch rising as he circled her areola.

  “You will, baby. If you’re good.”

  Just the thought of him thrusting into her while she was completely immobilized was a fantasy in and of itself. Lust gripped her core and she tried to rub her thighs together, but that movement was impossible. Her legs were parted, preventing her from shielding her most sensitive flesh from him.

  Ryan had her completely at his mercy, and she tumbled into his command. It was always like this with him. Sure, she talked big, but they both knew Ryan was more of a bad-ass than she’d ever be. Yet he accepted her just as she was.

  The flow of energy arced to her nipple once more and she flinched away, whimpering. It was as though the charge to her breast went straight to her clit. The little bundle of nerves throbbed in time to her heartbeat, pulsing a mile a minute.

  Ryan placed a hand to her chest, pushing her against the ropes, limiting her movement. He held her gaze as he waved the wand slowly over her other breast. He groaned and his gaze narrowed as if he felt it as well.

  She sucked in a breath and writhed against her bonds, vaguely aware she was babbling curses at him. The wand hurt so good. It knocked the sensible part of her brain on its ass, freeing her to feel and react. Her mind sailed into the blissful expanse of subspace, where feeling was living, the world was light, sound and color, and Ryan her anchor to reality.

  “Shhh.” Ryan stroked her face with both hands, feathering kisses over her brow, cheeks and lips. He could be such a hard-ass sometimes, and then there were these moments, when he was so tender she didn’t know how to react or what to do.

  Carla whimpered and leaned in to him, wanting his warmth. He wrapped his arms around her, giving comfort amidst the sensual torture. She rested her head against his shoulder and inhaled the cologne she’d bought for him a few weeks ago. She hadn’t been able to wait for Christmas to give it to him, because she’d known it was one of those small luxuries he wouldn’t buy for himself. He nuzzled the side of her face and dropped a kiss on her temple.

  He tapped her chin with his knuckle, a silent order to straighten. She inhaled, gathering what she could of her wits, and obeyed despite her muscles protesting.

  When did he put the wand down?

  She didn’t know, but the silence of the house was almost eerie. Or might have been had the Christmas carols not been starting up once more from next door.

  “Hmm.” Ryan ducked through the ropes again. Something dragged across the floor, heading away from her.

  What is he doing?

  Carla peered over her shoulder, but the lights over the mantel weren’t enough for her to make out what he was doing. She could see his general shape, the broadness of his shoulders. Damn, but she wanted to bite him. If he came close enough, she just might.

  Ryan turned toward her. Something glinted in his right hand.

  Oh dear...

  She remembered that knife. The blade alone was a foot long. He’d used it to cut away her clothes once, so she was well aware of just how sharp it was.

  A tremor of lust-ridden fear shot down her spine and a fresh wave of arousal flooded her pussy. Her breath came faster and she shifted on her feet.

  “You like my knives?” he asked.

  “Yes, Sir.” The memories of the last knife he’d used on her sent a shiver down her spine. The things this man did to her body were delicious and evil.

  Ryan stood behind her, so close she could feel his warmth. He placed the flat of the blade at her wrist, just below the rope, and scraped it down her arm. Not hard enough to leave marks—a pity—but enough for her to feel the danger.

  Carla held still as the blade traveled over her shoulders and up her other arm. His gaze never left her. The pressure never shifted, though she wanted him to press harder. She craved the marks. Wanted to admire them, lie in bed at night and trace them with her fingers, know he’d given them to her because she’d asked him to.

  The blade lifted from her skin. She let her head drop
forward and waited for whatever wonderful torments Ryan had in store for her next. He’d made sure to sensitize her skin. The wand, the knife—they were both to heighten her awareness. Even the bite of chill in the air seemed to have more teeth, but she still craved his knife.

  Once the idea of knives had terrified her. The thought of allowing someone to put the business end of a blade against her skin should still scare her. But that had been before Ryan. Before her wonderful, pain-in-the-ass Dom. Now she waited for the edge of steel as she’d await the kiss of her lover.

  A hard thwack landed across her shoulders, knocking her forward. She grunted and gripped the ropes holding her arms up tighter. Ryan slapped her upper back with the flat of the blade, not too hard. She’d discovered the allure of knives was their potential danger. In the right hands, they weren’t a threat. Ryan wouldn’t mark her unless he intended to, and then it was only where she allowed him to.

  He popped her ass with his hand, pulling her concentration off her upper body. She rocked forward, moaning a little as heat spread across her backside. She barely resisted asking for seconds.

  “You have to be very still,” he whispered into her ear.

  Carla nodded and relaxed, leaning against him, or as much as the rope would allow it. She could feel his breathing, the bunch and relax of his muscles as he placed the large knife down on something just outside her peripheral vision. She heard the scrape of the metal on wood and wondered what new toy he was picking up. He had a few wickedly sharp knives that—

  Her breath stuttered to a stop in her throat as he drew a stainless steel tip across her collarbone. The edge was so sharp even the whisper of a touch was enough to part skin cells. He didn’t cut her, but she felt a slight burn that had her toes curling in anticipation.

  Don’t move. Don’t move. Don’t move.

  Carla held her breath until he finished drawing the line across her chest. She was so dizzy with want she was practically hanging from the ropes now.

  “That’s my girl,” he muttered. Something about those words made her want to preen.