Untied

by Katherine Rhodes

  It took weeks for Wainwright and Garabaldi to process the paperwork that would completely close all investigation into the case, and totally exonerate Cece and Diane.

  And it was nearly end of shift for the watcher.

  “Finally here.” The Hunk took his Watcher's hand.

  “Finally.” The Watcher stroked the strong knuckles that held his hand. “I cannot believe how ready I am for this charade to be over.”

  The Hunk nodded. “I can.”

  He turned in the seat of the car. “I'm sorry I've waited this long. I wanted to tell the world, but…”

  “No apologies.” The Hunk pressed a finger against his lips. “This was all for the best, even if it didn't work out the way we envisioned.”

  “Let's go.” Nodding, the Watcher popped his door on the car. The Hunk followed his example, and they both climbed out. Closing and locking the door, the Hunk offered his hand. His Watcher took a firm hold on it.

  Ascending the court steps, it was time to put everything to rest. All the awful things that had happened keeping true love from those who deserved it.

  They entered the courthouse and quickly made their way to the waiting area where Cece would be waiting with everyone she loved around her. They had, in their own way, welcomed Diane into the fold.

  Sitting in a collection of chairs, moved around to form a rough circle, the remains of the Robbe family were surrounded by friends and family.

  “We're a part of that,” the Hunk whispered. “They'll never reject us. We'll be able to count on them forever.”

  Forever had a nice ring to it.

  The two of them pushed forward together, holding hands, clearly showing the world who they really were.

  Cece heard the approach. Clean, neat shoes clicked loudly in empty halls and drew her attention to them. She looked up and smiled to find them standing there.

  And, then, started laughing.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Cece looked up at the approach of the click of the sharp, new shoes on the marble floors.

  She smiled at the handsome man there, then started laughing. “Holy shit, Paul! I had no idea!”

  Paul lifted the joined fingers of the man standing next to him and placed a sweet kiss on the back of his hand. “Not at all?”

  “No clue!” She laughed again. “That's why you blanched when you dropped his name in the garden that day. You thought I was going to figure it out!”

  “Thank God for unisex names.”

  It was Killian's turn to laugh. “And that's why Paul spouted off at you in the car on the way to find Cece. It was natural for him to call you!”

  Dunham nodded. “He almost gave it all away that day.”

  “But why? Why were you hiding?”

  “For you,” Paul answered.

  Astonished, Cece stared at the two men before her.

  “Well, not only for you. He was a little chicken to come out,” Dunham explained. “The day we met was the day that Paul had his first serial killer victim at the morgue. There was already an internal memo that we were probably dealing with a serial. Paul had half the clues, and I had more of them.”

  “There was a piece of paper found at the Kortman's murder scene. The only clue we had to that point, and it had your name on it, Cece. Your name and the word sadist. We had a good feel for the motive right then and there. When Chas approached my family about marrying you off, I convinced my parents to make up a cockamamey scheme to get you to agree—because I, we” —he jerked his thumb between himself and Dunham—“were hoping that the umbrella of an engagement would keep you safe.”

  “We had no idea that we'd make a proverbial deal with the devil.” Dunham shook his head in disbelief.

  Cece stood and pulled Paul into an embrace. “Thank you, Paul. Seriously. You have no idea how much it means to have you on my side.”

  Paul returned the hug, enthusiastically. Cece pulled Dunham into the circle and then gave him his own hug.

  She stepped back, but Paul caught her hand. “Hang on.” He slipped the diamond engagement off her finger. “For both of us. Because we belong to other people.”

  Cece hugged him fiercely and could feel more tears in her eyes. She backed off a bit, then gave him a kiss. Looking at Dunham, she said, “You are getting a great man.”

  Dunham smiled and nodded. “I know.”

  Paul clapped Killian on the shoulder and palmed the ring into his hand. “That's for you. To do what you need to do.”

  Killian blinked a few times, staring at him. He was on one knee in front of Cece even before most people around them saw him move.

  Her eyes went wide.

  Killian had no preamble, no speech, no other words for her except the one beautiful statement she wanted to hear. “Marry me.”

  Epilogue

  Ten Months Later…

  “So, he enjoys this?”

  Cece looked up from her book and clucked at the young woman standing there. “You didn't read the sign, did you?”

  “Sign? I—”

  “The one on the door when you walked into this room.”

  “Oh, there was…” The young woman ran back to the door, read quickly, and then back to Cece. “Forgive me, Mistress. I didn't see the sign. May I ask a question?”

  “Much better. You may.”

  “The man, there, he enjoys this?”

  Nodding, Cece laid the book to the side. “I wouldn't have him there if he didn’t.”

  “The public display…”

  “Part of the allure.” Cece stood and slowly circled the dais. “Everything you see is all part of this. Rope play to this degree is a specialty, and its implications must weigh carefully.” There was a small audience gathering in the little open gallery. “You can tie up a lover and fun, but this binding is called Shibari. It's been used for hundreds of years in Japan, to hold buildings up. In the US, it has a direct sexual connotation.”

  “Foreplay?” someone called out.

  “More than. It can be used, properly, to actually reach climax.”

  “So he could totally jizz his drawers right now.”

  Cece shook her head. “By using such terminology, you diminish what is trying to be accomplished. Mister Smith is a trained submissive. He enjoys being commanded, specifically in all things sexual. Right now, he is in withholding—I am not allowing him even to be excited by his favorite ropes. If he becomes excited, erect, he will be punished. If he does not, he will be rewarded.”

  “And those punishments and rewards? What would they be?”

  “Punishment would be no chance for release.”

  “Blue balls?”

  “Of the worst sort, sir. But his reward is release. And the reward is worth it.” Out of the corner of her eye, Cece saw his head nod once. “Now, Mister Smith is under strict direction to not move. However, he nodded. Because that was not allowed, there will be a punishment meted out.”

  “More blue balls?”

  Whoever was calling this out was amusing Cece, and she chuckled. “No, not this time. A flogging, perhaps the paddle. Mister Smith enjoys both, which is why he hoped I saw him nod his head. So, there will be more than a simple paddling or flogging involved.”

  “You wound those ropes around him, do you just cut them off?”

  “Heavens no. No. Part of the seduction lies in the binding and unbinding of the ropes. The only time ropes are cut is if there is panic involved. Which is why a full or half body bind is never done the first time. Or even the tenth. Mister Smith has been with me for close to two years, and we have done binding far more complex and encompassing than this.” She gestured to the figure bound nearly from neck to toe. “We have gone to suspension, where the rope forms are more art than sex, but that does not mean Mister Smith doesn't reach subspace. It means he's constrained in a different way.”

  “Suspended?”

  “A specially designed frame”—Cece pointed the corner of the room—“allows me to bind and suspend the subject. No part of his body
touches the ground.”

  “And dude gets off on this?”

  “Getting off is what you do with your hand, a bottle of lotion, and a box of tissues when you have nothing to do on a Friday night.” There was a round of chuckles. “This is an altered state of consciousness, a high. When you are in subspace—or dom space—there is nothing but you and peace. Endorphins. And accordingly, subdrop can be just as bad as the DTs, psychologically.”

  A docent appeared in the doorway, and Cece nodded at him. He stepped into the room, calling, “Ladies and gentlemen, it is now four-thirty and the MoMA will be closing for the evening in just half and hour. In order to give Mistress Smith a chance to unbind her sub, it is requested that this exhibition space be cleared as soon as possible. Thank you for visiting, and remember that the Sex and Silk exhibition will be running for the next three weekends, with a special suspended art display next Saturday only.”

  Cece stood next to the bound figure of her husband, watching everyone filter around the room for a moment more and make their way out. Once everyone was gone, the docent smiled, nodded, and pulled the grate across the doorway.

  “Color, Mister Smith?”

  “Green, Mistress Smith.”

  “Permission given, Mister Smith.” She took his hand and helped him step down off the dais, pushed his hood back.

  “Shit, I want to fuck you so hard right now, Mistress.” Killian's eyes were fever-bright with lust as he whispered the words.

  “Goddamn it, this is such a turn-on.” Cece let out a breath. She stared into his face. “I almost want to cut them off.” She grabbed the rope end and started to unbind him.

  “I don't want to make it back to the room.” Killian held perfectly still as Cece twisted the cords to free him.

  “I know. I don't want to either.”

  He huffed. “Well, that didn't help my situation at all.”

  “Who said I was trying to help?”

  “Jesus, Cee.”

  “Well, think about something that will make you hold out.”

  He smirked. “You in that wedding dress? Oh, shit, nope.”

  “Haha.” She smirked. “Dad and Donny going at it?”

  “Oh, that's not right. You know I apologized about that.”

  “Yeah, but they weren't upset.”

  “Oh Lord.”

  She eyed the front of his boxers. “Still didn't work.”

  “Still thinking about you in that dress and what you had underneath.”

  “Because you weren't all about that.”

  “Damn, it's fun being kinky with you.” He watched her hands moving faster and far more carelessly than he had ever seen. “Cece. Stop. Stop.” He forced his hand out of the loosened rope and touched her chin. “Stop, mo chroí.”

  Cece looked at him. “I want you.”

  “I know. But don't do that. I love my Domme in control. You lost your center.”

  “You do that to me.”

  He paused, then swept in to possess her mouth, locking their lips against each other. “You do that to me too. Get the ropes off. Carefully. Please, Mistress. I adore your hands on my body.”

  She kissed him hard. “Always my balance, Kay.” Carefully, Cece began unbinding him again. “Talk to me, please. It'll help me stay in control.”

  “All I keep thinking about is that dress.”

  Cece smiled. “You really liked it that much?”

  “It was on you, and I got to take it off you. And I got to play.” He smirked. “You looked like a virginal fantasy. I really couldn't have imagined a more perfect dress. Or bride. Or wedding.”

  “And what about this honeymoon?”

  Killian laughed. “Spending six weekends wrapped up in your ropes on display in the MoMA? Not really something you'd expect.”

  “Judging by the size of that hard-on, I'm not counting this as a miss.”

  “You know I have other plans after this exhibition is over, right?”

  “Of course. I only agreed to do this because Emmy lent us the plane and apartment.”

  “Oh, and let's talk about what fucking turn-on it is that you can fly a plane.”

  “I can fly a Piper Cub. That damn Sessna had it out for me.”

  “Cockpit sex, Cece.”

  “That wasn't sex. You held the yoke, and I sucked you off.”

  “And I returned the favor.”

  A knowing smirk crossed Cece's face. “Yes. Yes, you did.” She slipped some more of the rope down his chest, puddling it around his feet. “You still need to tell me where we're going. And are we going to be back in time for the adoption?”

  “I would plan anything that would interfere with that?” Killian studied her. “I was going to ask if you were okay with Donny and your father adopting his grandchild, but I guess if you want to be there...”

  “He has a real chance to be happy. Mom's away for twenty to life, Hannah is safe with me, the estate is being sold. We can try to be a real family again.”

  Killian's hand traveled up her side and laced his fingers with hers.

  “Cece, you know I can get you a different engagement ring. I don't—”

  She gasped. “No! No, Killian, I love this ring. It means so much to me. It was given to me to protect me. I was taken away to free me, and it was returned because of love. This ring is precious to me.”

  “So you're happy?”

  “I am insanely happy.” Cece rested her hand on his cheek. “I love you. There's nothing I want more. There's no place I'd rather be than here with you. You've untied all my knots, and now I'm bound to you. It's all I ever really need.”

  Grinning, Cece finally slid the last of the ropes from her husband's body. Killian didn't move for just a moment, and in the next, he was on her. Scooping her off her feet, he slammed Cece against the wall out of sight of the door. She had yanked clear his boxers, and he shoved her skirt up her legs, revealing her naked, slick sex.

  As soon as Cece's back hit the wall, Killian slammed home inside her. She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. He slammed himself into her again and again, and Cece started to lose the fight against the moan that wanted to escape her.

  “Legs around me,” Killian growled. “You can give me whatever punishment you like later, but right now, I need to fuck you hard and make you come.”

  “Oh, God, yes…” Her voice rose in volume, losing control of herself a bit. “Fuck me. Fuck me.”

  Killian slapped a hand over her mouth. “I will fuck you, and you will stay quiet.”

  He'd never done anything like this before, and Cece loved it. His hand pressed her lips together, and a moment later she felt his other hand between them, his finger finding her clit.

  “Never done rough quite like this, have you?”

  She shook her head against his palm.

  “You like it, don't you?”

  She nodded, and in that moment, Killian pinched her clit, making her toss her head back hard against the wall. He slammed his cock into her, making her want to scream. But he only allowed her to breathe—and she was panting against his tireless possession of her.

  “I am going to come, Cece. I'm going to come inside you. And you're going to come with me.”

  Oh God. She tried to nod, but she was too consumed by him, by his dick, by the rough dance of his finger over her clit.

  His motion changed just slightly, and she knew his body so well she knew he was on the precipice of his orgasm. As best as she could, she added a little squeeze of her pussy as he moved in her—and that was what he needed.

  “Fuck.” His word was hushed, but powerful, and Killian’s command followed. “Come, Cece.”

  She did.

  The End

  Katherine Rhodes

  Armed with a pen name, Katherine Rhodes has gird her loins and set her mind to writing erotic romances which are kinky, dirty, and fun. As a lackadaisical laundry goddess, and an expert in the profundities of bad music and awful literature-thanks to her husband-Katherine strives to find balance in t
he universe and time to cook dinner. An East Coast dweller, currently located in the Philadelphia Tristate area, she is the proud servants of three cats and would take a vacation in Prague over a day at the beach any time…

  http://www.facebook.com/katherinerhodesauthor

  http://twitter.com/mistress_kayr @mistress_kayr

  http://instagram.com/thekittylover @thekittylover

  www.katherinerhodes.com

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  Katherine Rhodes

  also writes under the pen name

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