By Invitation Only

by Allie Quinn

  I couldn’t reply. Hell, I could hardly think. My pussy was clenching and unclenching, practically calling out for Raven to touch me there or lick me there or put his dick there, none of which he did.

  I thought I might die if he didn’t give me more—and soon.

  I’m pretty sure I was panting, not even recognizing the sounds that came from my own mouth. “Please,” I begged, hating that I needed to beg.

  “Patience, my love. We are hardly half finished.”

  Bloody hell, only half finished. I knew I couldn’t take any more of this. I looked down past my pebble-hard, erect nipples. He’d managed to lace me in a rope bikini bottom. As I watched, he tugged slightly on the coiled end he held in one hand.

  The knot swept against my clit again. It was a slight move, but maddening. I groaned.

  “Too tight?” he coaxed. He had to know what it was doing to me.

  “No.” Tight was not how I would describe it.

  “Of course not.”

  He knew exactly how tight things were. The only thing tight was my insides. My pussy felt like a violin string was strung in there, and it was, indeed, wound too tight. All it would take was his finger or his dick. Oh…

  He wound the rope around my middle. The he continued upward to my breasts. He laced around each of them, never really touching my nipples with the rope. His knuckles did caress them time and again as he wove the rope where he wanted it, working his creative macramé in perfect triangles as if framing each of my breasts.

  With every caress, every touch—fuck, I was even so sensitive I felt his breaths on my nipples—he tightened that violin string inside me. I kept thinking at any moment it would snap and I would be free of this delicious torture. It didn’t. I wasn’t.

  He finally finished and brought the end of the rope to tie to the end he’d left free when he’d started the bottom. He looped it around and under, securing the two ends together in a very artistic way. His action tugged more across my clit, making me groan, which he blatantly ignored.

  He stepped back, like an artist admiring his work.

  Thank heavens he was finished. I knew exactly what I’d like to do to him. I thought I might suck his dick for a few minutes and when he was good and hard, I might stop to have a stupid conversation about the weather, see how he liked that.

  I looked down again, doing my best to stand perfectly still to keep that knot from rubbing against my clit, which was now on fire. I wore a complete bikini of rope. My small snatch of pubic hair was covered with his lacework, but my breasts were framed.

  “Beautiful,” he muttered.

  Two others came up to admire his job. “Lovely,” one stated.

  “Fuck,” the other said. “I wish I could do that half as good as you.”

  I was trying not to breathe, not to move a centimeter to keep that knot from moving. It wasn’t working. My pussy was nothing but swollen and hot and practically screaming for more attention, for release.

  “That is so beautiful,” a woman commented.

  I couldn’t stand much longer. He’d been worried about my arms going numb? I wasn’t the least bit concerned with my arms. Not with the way my pussy was practically shaking. My legs were starting to burn too.

  “I’m not finished yet,” Raven said.

  “Oh fuck,” I let out. How could he not be finished? I really was going to die.

  He took another coiled rope from the cart.

  I could use my safe word. I didn’t. I needed to see where he took this. I needed to see where he took me.

  “Spread your legs,” he instructed.

  I did. I gasped loudly at the stimulation.

  “We’re almost done, my love.”

  I didn’t know if I should believe him.

  He looped more rope around each of my legs just above my knees. Thanks to that little knot rubbing against my clit with every breath, every inch of my body was sensitive. The touch of that rope on my skin was like hot wax. He brought the rope to my middle and laced it around the rope already there, sending my clit into the next orbit. I cried out, with need, not pain.

  “Hang on, sweetheart. We’re almost there.”

  Hell, I’d been almost there since that first touch of the knot against my clit.

  He tied more rope about my shoulders, working it in such a way I felt as if I was caught in a net. Then he laced the end of the rope through a pulley on the ceiling near the ropes that held the buckles where my hands were fastened. I hadn’t even noticed that pulley until now.

  “If I release your hands, I think you’ll fall, so trust me as I raise you up a little.”

  I didn’t quite understand until I felt the movement. He pulled on the rope. It lifted me right off the floor, the tension being evenly distributed through my legs, my back, my middle, and my shoulders. Strangely and thankfully, it didn’t pull on the knot against my clit. I felt able to breathe.

  At the same time, I saw what he’d created. Something like one of the sex swings out of my own rope. I was suspended in the air as if I was sitting in a net chair that he’d created, my legs out in front of me, bent and spread. He tied the rope up, keeping me suspended.

  “Very nice,” one of the observers said. I didn’t pay much attention.

  All my attention was drawn to Raven as he stepped between my legs. Then—finally—he moved that little torturous knot slightly away. Just enough so he could put a finger in me.

  “Is this feeling better?”

  “Yes.” Then, “No.” Both words were honest answers. Yes, the knot wasn’t driving me insane any longer. No, I still needed his dick in there especially when he didn’t keep his finger in there near long enough. At least I was pretty certain that was what I needed. I was so mindless; I wasn’t sure what I needed.

  He reached up and unbuckled my wrists, then placed my hands on the ropes. “Hold on here.”

  The knot at my crotch gave one final, mind-bending caress before he moved the rope away.

  Then he was inside me.

  I cried out at the sheer pleasure of the feel of him. Hard. Big. Perfect. Tight. He filled me. He completed me. He used the swing action of the ropes to pull out and thrust in. After what felt like hours of needful stimulation, I was screaming and crying with his thrusts. I was wild and out of control. If I hadn’t been holding on to the ropes for dear life, I would have been scratching the hell out of his back.

  I couldn’t help it. I can honestly say I’d never before felt anything like this. Even where the ropes touched me, electric currents beat through me. I felt like I sizzled everywhere, not just my pussy.

  His kiss on my lips, his tongue in my mouth, was like a bolt of lightning. When he broke away and spoke, his words came to me from far away.

  “Has anyone else ever made you feel this way?”

  “No, never.” I don’t know if I actually replied or just thought it.

  “The next time you think about pressing your lips against those of a man on the street outside your building, think about this. Think about me, and what I do for you. Think about the softness of rope and the rub of that little knot on your sweet pussy. Think about when I come inside you.”

  Then his heat filled me, and I was certain I exploded.

  Raven

  She woke in my arms. Our orgasm had been so great, so explosive, she’d been in a daze afterward. The shibari had been my greatest work of art. I’d hated unwrapping her. But this closeness, this intimacy was just as important.

  “Where are we?”

  “Still at the Castle. On one of the huge sofas away from the action.” I kissed her on top of her head. “Rest. We exerted a lot of energy. It was both emotionally and physically draining.” I held her to me, her hip against mine, her breasts on my chest, her cheek on my shoulder, her legs entwined with mine. We were wrapped together in a blanket. My insides still sizzled from the remnants of the electric current we’d shared. It didn’t seem to matter that the switch was turned off and we were unplugged. It didn’t matter that my cock w
as tired. Hell, it’s been hard for the past hour and fifteen minutes that it took for me to lace that rope around her so perfectly. When I’d finally given it the freedom to shoot off, I’m sure it shot all the way to the moon. And I still wanted her.

  I settled for holding her close, feeling her heart calm with mine. I’d seen this before, this giving of one’s complete being, but until now I’d never experienced it. I had planned on making her suffer for as long as possible through the shibari because of one stupid kiss. And what I’d received was a woman who gave to me until she had nothing else left.

  “You saw that kiss outside my building.”

  It was a statement, not a question. “Yes.”

  “And you were angry at me? Or jealous?”

  “There is no place for anger here. It is an unwritten rule. Anger in a scene can cause someone to get hurt. So while I admit I was bothered seeing you kiss someone else, I was not angry. I like to think that inside these walls you belong to me, but outside is another world. What we have is not even a dominant/submissive relationship, so in here I don’t want to order you to do anything. I only want to give you pleasure. But I like to think of you as mine. When you put your lips on a man outside your building, all I knew was that you don’t know who I am. You wouldn’t know me if I was on the street. Do you love him or have feelings for him?”

  “Agnew? No.”

  “Then why?”

  She was quiet for a long moment. Her cheek was so soft against my chest. I never thought I’d been a patient man, but with her, I was willing to wait for as long as it took. After all, I’d managed to wait long enough for her to be in my arms.

  “He has blue eyes.”

  “So?”

  “So do you. I thought you might be him. Or he might be you. I didn’t want you to be him, and I was afraid you were. I had to know for sure. I knew I’d recognize your kiss. So I kissed him. I was ecstatic to know my lover wasn’t him.”

  And I’d put her through more than an hour of erotic torture tying her up. I should let her lock me up in the stockade for a night for it. I didn’t have the strength right then, so I didn’t suggest it. But I sure as hell thought I deserved it.

  “I thought the way you tied me up was beautiful. You made me feel beautiful. I hope you do that again.”

  I wasn’t certain my heart or my cock could handle doing it again.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alexandria

  I looked out my office window, thankful it was finally Friday again. With a new case file coming together so well, and Raven texting me and calling every day, the week went a bit faster than the previous one. After he’d seen me to my car at four in the morning after our last session, when he’d tied me up and shared with me the greatest orgasm of my life, he’d asked if he could call me, like a gentleman. I said yes. I considered asking if we could remove our masks. After all, I felt we’d reached a new plateau in our relationship. We were still on the grounds of Midnight Castle, though. I bit my tongue. Even the next day, my crotch was still a live wire. In fact, I wore a dress all day with no panties. It was just too sensitive. I returned the next night, but we had no sex. He said we needed to rest. I didn’t protest. I still wanted to touch him, but I held off. Touching him would lead to him touching me. We watched others for a while, and I used the time to watch him and learn new things I wanted to try. He held my hand. We ate in the diner. It was like a date.

  With sex happening all around us.

  I think my reaction to the rope trick he did on me scared him. I would be lying if I said it didn’t scare me too. But it was a wonderful scare. I feel free. I feel like I can come to Midnight Castle with Raven and be whatever I want, do whatever I desire. I don’t quite understand how being tied up made me free, but it did.

  We set another date for Friday. Which was today. Finally.

  Within a few hours, I’d be in his arms. Maybe I’d tie him up.

  The sound of knuckles rapping against my door drew my attention and sent memories of the soft feel of rope on my breasts out the window. I turned from the window to see a stranger in a suit in my doorway. “Can I help you?”

  “Alex Winslow?”

  “Yes?”

  “My name’s Jack Larson. I’m a detective with the State Police.”

  He stepped inside my office, closer to my desk, and held up a badge. I stepped close enough to read the name on the badge was as he stated.

  “Can I talk to you for a few minutes?”

  “Of course. Please, sit down.” I motioned to a chair before my desk.

  “Privately,” he added.

  “Of course,” I said again. “Can I get you some coffee?”

  “That would be nice, thank you.” He sat down.

  I noticed as I moved toward the door that he held a closed-case file in his lap. James was coming down the hall toward my office with two law books in his arms. “James, can you grab us two cups of coffee?”

  James glanced in and offered the detective a nod. “I’ll be right back with it.”

  I took a seat behind my desk. Less than two minutes later, he brought in a tray with two mugs filled with steaming coffee. “This one is yours, Alex.” He pointed to the one closest to me. Detective Larson picked up the other one and took a sip. It dawned on me that I’d never asked him how he liked it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t ask if you liked cream or sugar.”

  “This is perfect. Thank you.”

  I thanked James and requested that he close the door when he left. I waited to speak until he did so.

  “How can I help you?” I asked again. I dealt with the police on a routine basis with cases and information. They didn’t make me nervous. I didn’t get much chance to work with the State Troopers, though. So I couldn’t begin to guess why he was in my office.

  “Some new information has come up in a case we’re working on, and we think it links us to a cold case. I was hoping you could perhaps give me some information regarding a police officer by the name of Graylan Conner.”

  I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach. I had hoped to never hear that name again. My old neighbor. The cop who beat and abused my friend, Ana. I felt the color drain from my face and thought for a moment I might throw up, despite the fact there wasn’t anything but a sip of coffee in my stomach. My first reaction was sheer anger. Raven told. That prick. He might have hands geared to touch my soul. He might know just the right place to put a little knot, but he was a prick if he’d shared my deepest secret.

  “What new information?” How I managed to get that question out and keep sitting in my chair looking what I hoped was normal, I’ll never know.

  “Two days ago, a fifteen-year-old girl went missing. Brianne Whintworth.”

  He opened the folder he held and pulled out a five-by-seven school portrait of a pretty girl with an innocent face and red hair and held it where I could see it.

  “I’ll be honest with you. I thought it was another runaway, or another my-mom-won’t-let-me-go-on-a-date type case. But the mother is insistent this girl would never leave without taking her prized possession, which is a baseball signed by Lou Brock that her grandpa gave her. It’s still sitting on the shelf above her bed. She also insists nothing at all from the girl’s room is missing. So I’ve been looking into it. Brianne Whintworth is an A student, active in the drama club. She’s not overly popular, keeps to herself.”

  Of course she does. She’s working hard to stay invisible so no one notices if she has any bruises.

  “But the few friends I talked to tell me she never said anything about running away.”

  “Her mother’s boyfriend…”

  He didn’t have to tell me. I already knew. I met his gaze.

  “Graylan Conner tells me she did say she wanted to run away, says he tried to talk her out of it, told her how much her mom loves her. I did a little more digging…”

  What a choice of words.

  “And I discovered a teenage girl went missing sixteen years ago, labeled another runaway.”

&
nbsp; “Ana.”

  “Yes, Ana Goldbrook, your neighbor, daughter of Conner’s previous girlfriend. Do you think she ran away?”

  I had the feeling he knew my answer without asking the question. But I answered it anyway. “No. We were like sisters. I’ve never had another friend like her. She would have told me. Hell, she would have run away to my house and hid in my basement.”

  He put the photo of Brianne Whintworth back into his folder. “You don’t think she would have run away and not told you to protect you?”

  “No.” My insides churned. He’d done something to another young girl.

  “Internal Affairs has investigated Conner for years. They have quite a file on him.”

  “Then why haven’t they done something?” I blurted out, feeling the old pain and fury tumbling around inside me, all mixed in with a good cold case of fear and frustration at not knowing what to do.

  “Because every time they bring in anyone and question them, no one will admit to what he’s done. Everyone—girlfriends, partners, ex-partners—they’re all too afraid to tell what he does or what he threatens to do.”

  I certainly knew that feeling. I had lain awake night after night, terrified to close my eyes in fear that I’d wake to find him standing over me or that he’d hurt my parents or my brother, and I didn’t even know for certain whether or not he knew I’d seen him from my bedroom window. “What about Ana’s mother?”

  “She died six years ago when she fell down a flight of stairs. Accidentally.”

  “How convenient,” I muttered.

  “I’d say.”

  “I saw him in his garden the night before they said Ana ran away. I think he buried her out there. I was afraid to tell anyone. If no one believed me…”

  A tear slid down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away. “I think my parents might have suspected something, or perhaps they had just been afraid. I don’t know. All I know is that despite his easy, phony smile and the way he always laughed and said the neighborhood was safe because a cop lived there, within a year, my parents packed us up and moved. They told me and my brother it was so we could be in a different school district for when I started high school.”