When I got home from Club Deep, I swore that I wouldn’t go back for at least a week. Everything that happened between Hudson and me was so intense and so amazing that I told myself to take time to process it all. Hudson texted me his schedule—which put him at the club nearly every night—and told me that whenever I came, just to tell the doorman I was there for him, and he would be there.

I really thought I could do a week, too. I could power through the ache between my legs reminding me of how he pleasured me relentlessly. I could survive Sandra waggling her eyebrows at me and subtly prying for details about the party. I dodge phone calls from my mother and sister because after what happened I’m unwilling to talk about Keith Overton and what they view as my lack of relationship possibilities. And every time they call I’m reminded of Hudson and everything that happened. It was amazing. But it wasn’t just the sex. I became someone else. Someone powerful and beautiful and confident, and I loved it. And along with wanting Hudson to share more of his fantasies with me, I wanted that freedom again. It’s perfect this way. He never has to know the real me that spends her time in front of a computer darkening shadows on images. That kind of person wouldn’t captivate someone as fascinating as him. So I’ll keep being that woman he met at the party—confident and together and mysterious. And that will be enough. But not for another week.

The phone calls from my family pile up until it feels like I can’t go an hour without hearing their ringtone. On what I think might be the hundredth call I roll my eyes and pick up a call from Catherine. She doesn’t even give me the chance to speak.

“You’re a real bitch, you know that?”

“I’m sorry?”

She scoffs, “You haven’t been answering my calls.”

“Yes, Catherine, that’s because I have a job and I don’t have time to answer a call every hour from you.”

“Whatever. You’re probably just saying that to make me think you were busy. I’m calling to find out where you were last night?”

I frown. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about dinner,” she practically shrieks, “With Keith. Mom and I set it up, we left you at least five messages. You could have had the decency to show up.” Her words are seething with rage, and now I am too.

“I told you I had no interest in going out with him, Catherine. What the hell were you thinking setting me up on a date like that?”

She sighs, a sound of long-suffering I’ve heard way too many times over the years. “Mom and I set it up because it’s embarrassing. Everyone your age is settled down now, and instead of putting down roots and making a family, you’re off gallivanting in the city. Do you want to be an old maid?”

Every time I think that Catherine can’t shock me, she does, and I wish her words didn’t hurt, but tears still prick at the back of my eyes. “Well, I’m very sorry that I’m an embarrassment to you, but I’m still not going out with Keith. End of story.”

“Fine,” she sneers. “Don’t come crawling to me when you’re forty and single and unhappy. You’re not special, Christine. Stop acting like it.”

The line clicks dead, and for a few minutes, all I can do is stand there. I hate how much her words resonate. I do fear that I’ll be alone, that no one will like me. But at the very least I know that Keith isn’t the answer. Deep in my chest a dull pain throbs, and I push it aside. At least for the night, I can be someone amazing and sexy.

Which is why, only two days into my week, dressed in a skimpy outfit, I get in my car and drive to the club. The whole way I tell myself to turn around, but I know that I’ve already made my decision. My body sings with anticipation as I pull into the parking lot. I can’t really believe that I’m doing this. Not that I’m doing it, but that I’m doing it. Me, Christine, the boring girl.

Tonight’s outfit isn’t quite as daring as the party, but then again, that was a special occasion. I had some strappy red lingerie from an old relationship, and I paired it with a pair of pants I own that are so tight that they’re practically painted on. I take a second to paint on a lipstick that matches the lingerie top, and take a breath. Don’t turn back. You’re not you. You’re ‘club Christine.’ Brazen, confident, and unashamed.

I push out of the car on that thought and head toward the door. It’s the same bouncer. I smile at him as I hand him my ID. “I’m here for Hudson Carlisle.”

“I remember you from the other night. I’m John.” He holds out a hand.

I shake it. “Christine.”

“I’m guessing he told you to tell me that you’re here for him.”

“Yeah, he did,” I say. “Sorry.”

He shakes his head. “Not a problem at all. It’s just good to know so I can make a note. I don’t have to check your ID every time if I know you and know you’re going to be here for Mr. Carlisle.” Turning his head away, he mutters into his headset. Then, “Mr. Carlisle will meet you on the second floor balcony.”

“Thank you, John.”

I check my coat and purse and head downstairs to go back up. I don’t think there’s a way to get to the second floor directly from the entrance, which I guess makes sense. You don’t want people popping into the themed rooms directly from outside. Hudson didn’t say where on the balcony to wait for him, so I pick a spot at random, in front of a room that’s made up like a desert with a tent of many silks and the scent of incense pouring out the door.

I lean against the railing, taking in everything that’s happening. There’s a good view of the club from up here, and I like watching the dancers in the cages and the dancers on the floor. There’s a good interaction between the dancers and the rest of the club. They feed off each other’s energy. I glance toward the stage that captivated me the first time I came here, but it’s empty. I remember what was happening and that raw desire and arousal floods my system. It seems I stumbled on a fantasy. Even though that seems like a lot for me. I liked it when I knew people were watching through the curtain last time, but that was through a curtain and not in front of the whole club. With the club’s owner, no less.

Arms snake around my waist, and I feel the familiar dance of Hudson’s fingers on the skin of my stomach. “It’s good to see you,” he says.

“I told myself that I wasn’t going to come,” I say. “I said that I was going to wait at least a week so I could sort out all of this in my head.”

His lips are against my ear and I feel his smile. “Then why are you here?”

I turn to face him, letting him pin me against the railing. He’s already hard, and that doesn’t do anything to cool me down. I laugh. “I see you kept your promise to stay hard.”

“I was. Almost the whole time. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

“And I couldn’t stay away.”

“I can’t say I mind that,” he says, leaning down to kiss me.

Another thing I told myself was that it wasn’t as good as I thought. I was high on adrenaline and the thrill of going to a party like that one.

Yeah, no. It’s just as good as I thought. Maybe better.

Hudson pulls back and looks at me with a smile. “Do you want a drink?”

“No,” I say. “Not really.”

His eyes darken, and my stomach drops like I’m on a rollercoaster. I like that look—lust and anticipation. “What do you want?”

I clear my throat, my mind filling with that image of that woman on the X. “I found a fantasy.”

“Oh really.” He raises an eyebrow. “I’m dying to hear what it is.”

“When I came into the club the other night, there was a couple there.” I point to the empty stage.

He nods. “The St. Andrew’s cross.”

“I didn’t know that’s what it was called. She was tied to it. Facing it. Being fucked, and she looked so…” I can’t finish the sentence. Not because I don’t know the answer, but because every word I think of to describe the way that woman looked feels inadequate. “Maybe it’s because it was one of the first things I saw, but I don’t remember something turning me on like that just by looking.”

A slow smirk plays across his lips. “I think that can be arranged.”

He takes a step away and pull him back. “But I don’t want that yet. I don’t want that in front of the entire club. So I want something like that. I want you to show me how that might feel.”

“Then I’m glad that I had us meet up here.”

Taking my hand, he pulls me around the balcony. We pass room after room, and I don’t know their order, so I don’t know where we’re going until he stops in front of a room that looks like it’s carved from rock. There are chains and wooden tables and a chandelier with what looks like real candles. This is a dungeon.

A thrill goes through me, and I’m wet. My body definitely wants this. The room is empty, and Hudson leads me inside to a little side room where there are cubbies and water bottles and…accessories. Toys that look like they have varying degrees of danger are hung along the walls in glass cases, everything from whips to paddles and other things that I don’t have names for. He follows my gaze and squeezes my hand. “Those aren’t what we’re here for,” he says. “You need special permission to use them, and I don’t have the key. Anyway, I don’t think that’s what you’re looking for.”

“No.” I would try it once, but I can tell from the shiver that goes down my spine that I’m not the kind of person who wants that. Nothing wrong with it. Just not for me.

“Leave your clothes here,” Hudson says.

I turn around to find him already naked, putting the last of his clothing on a shelf. My mouth goes dry at the sight of him, and I remember another one of my fantasies about him and my mouth. Maybe I can fulfill that one too. He goes out into the room, and I strip, placing my clothes next to his. The room is cold, and it might be my imagination, but I think I feel the tiniest bit of a draft. Just like a real dungeon might have. Club Deep gets points for authenticity. I can’t hear the club music in here with the door closed. It’s almost too quiet, just the sound of both our breathing.

Hudson is standing by a table. Or what looks like a table. It has many many straps and what looks like adjustable arms. This is the first time that I’ve gotten to see him naked from a distance, and I like what I see. Every part of him is long and lean and tan, and from experience I know that he’s just as firm as he looks. He turns his back to me, tugging on a strap, and I get look at his ass. I’ve never been an ass girl, but he might just convert me.

I approach, drawing my hand down his back. He doesn’t startle, just turns around. I try to mimic that sexy smirk that he gave me just a few minutes ago. “There’s one more thing that I wanted to do,” I say softly.

“I’m listening.”

“I’d rather show you than tell you,” I say. He smiles, recognizing his words coming from my mouth. That smile transforms into shock as I sink to my knees.

I grab his cock, and he grabs my wrist, “Christine, you don’t have to do that. That’s not what tonight’s about.”

Raising an eyebrow, I stroke along his skin. “I wasn’t asking permission. And isn’t tonight about what I want?”

He releases my wrist, and I see him swallow. I don’t waste any time putting my mouth on him.

“Fuck,” he groans. A long, drawn out syllable. If my mouth wasn’t completely full of him, it might make me laugh. His cock is thick and fills up my mouth as I press down deeper onto him, but he feels just like I imagined he would. I look up and find him watching me, eyes filled with lust. I pull back, swirling my tongue around him, and love the sharp intake of breath I hear. I like the way the muscles in his stomach jump as he holds himself absolutely still. Down again, and back. Sucking down, dragging my lips back.

I take as much of him as I can and wrap my hands around the rest, setting up a steady rhythm. His hands fall into my hair, fingers digging in just a little harder when I do something that feels good. He likes it when I use my tongue. I release him, starting at the base and licking him all the way to the tip like a lollipop. I do it again, and again, repeating until every inch of his cock has been touched by my tongue. And then I take him deep again and he groans. His hips thrust forward, I suck him harder.

“Christine,” he says. “Stop. Please.”

I suck back to the tip and release him from my mouth just long enough to ask him, “Why?”

“Because if you keep going, I’m going to come.”

“And?”

He groans, and his fingers tense in my hair again. “And I want to be inside you when I do.”

I grin. “I’m not stopping you from doing that. You see, here at Club Deep we have a policy that a first time blow job can’t end before someone comes.” I don’t give him the chance to respond. Instead I dive back down onto his cock, taking absolutely everything I can, and sucking him hard. It doesn’t take long. He’s shaking before I even pull my mouth back, and I tease him with my tongue until he explodes. He cries out, hips forcing his cock deeper between my lips, and I swallow as he comes. He tastes like salt and man, and something I imagine is my own deep satisfaction. The look he gives me is priceless—slack-jawed awe and pure desire. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, trying to look just as cheeky as I feel.

“My turn,” he says, lifting me up from my knees and straight into the air. He lays me on the table, and before I can even ask him what the plan is, there’s a strap across my stomach and arms. It tightens, holding me in place, but not so tight that it hurts. Another strap goes above my breasts and across my hips. Straps for each thigh, calf, and ankle. When he’s finished the only thing I can move is my head, and barely. My heart rate spikes knowing there’s absolutely no way to get out of this. I can’t catch my breath. I pull against the restraints but they won’t budge. I feel panic rising, and then Hudson is over me.

“Christine, breathe.”

I do. The command seemingly forcing air into my lungs. I’m fine. I’m fine. Maybe.

His eyes run up and down me, like he’s looking for something. “Club Deep has a safe word. Do you know what that is?”

I take another breath, and the panic recedes with my breath. “I say it and things stop.”

“That’s right,” he says. “It’s ‘Red.’ Say it for me.”

“Red.”

He nods.. “All of these rooms are wired with microphones and monitored by security. If you say it, everything stops. It will get picked up by security and there will be a monitor and security will be in this room in ten seconds. But,” he smiles. “I hope that you feel safe enough with me that you won’t want to use it.”

I nod. I don’t think I’ve ever been tied up like this before. It’s not a familiar sensation, and I’m not surprised that my first instinct was to panic.

“Does anything hurt?”

Doing a mental check of my body, I don’t find anything. If it weren’t unnerving not being able to move, it would almost feel cozy. “No.”

He smiles and strokes the side of my face. “Good. What’s the safe word again?”

“Red.”

He nods, and tugs on the strap above my breasts. “This is much tighter bondage than you’d have on the St. Andrew’s cross. But like you said, the challenge there is being displayed in front of a lot of strangers. So this is a different kind of challenge. I think I prefer this.”

“Why?” I’m still a little breathless, but now it’s more because he’s walking around the table, his eyes on my body.

“Because,” he grins, “I can do whatever I like.” He reaches out and takes my breasts in his hands, massaging them until the hard peaks are swollen. “I can touch you,” he says, letting his hand smooth across my skin as he walks up next to my head. I look over and I find that his cock is fully hard again. I smirk because I knew that him coming wouldn’t be a problem. “I could feed you my cock again,” he says. I feel a gush of wetness between my legs. I wouldn’t be able to stop him unless I said the safe word, and I wouldn’t want to. It’s…hot.

His hands never leave my skin as he circles the table, touching me as he pleases. Not to pleasure me, but like he said, to do whatever he likes. It’s the weirdest sensation, like falling asleep while being wide awake. His hands are soothing, and I relax into the restraints. It suddenly feels like I’ve never been more comfortable. I close my eyes and enjoy the feeling of his fingers on my body, toying and caressing and tracing.

“The thing I like most about this table,” he says, stopping at my feet. “Is that it moves.” Grabbing the wood by my feet, he pulls my legs apart. He strapped my legs in individually, and they part just like he wants them to. I still can’t move, now bound with my pussy wide open to him. Heat sears through me, and I know he sees how wet I am. “I think you like this,” he says.

“Fuck me and we’ll find out.”

The smile on his face is wicked. I’m going to find out just how wicked, because he’s rolling on a condom. But he doesn’t enter me, he pushes a finger inside. “I like how wet you get.” His fingers curls upward, reminding me of the last orgasm he gave me. “I’m wondering just how many times I should make you come.”

“Is there a policy for second time visitors?”

Hudson laughs softly. “There isn’t, but maybe I should make one.” He adds a second finger. “First time is a minimum of five. Is that what I said? So I suppose the second time would be a minimum of three.” With his words he adds a third finger and I moan, try to rise my hips to meet his hand, but I’m completely immobile. Sheer arousal rolls through me. There’s nothing I can do. He’s going to do what he wants, and I can’t change it. He’s going to make me come as many times as he wants and I can’t stop him. Why does that make me shudder in anticipation and make my pussy so wet that it’s drowning his fingers?

“But maybe I’m wrong,” he says, musing. “Maybe it shouldn’t be a lower number. After all, it’s your second visit. You should be more used to it. Able to do more, right, Christine?”

“Right.” I can barely speak. My entire being is focused on his fingers and the way they’re pumping in and out of me, steadily faster. It feels so good, and the pleasure is building in my core just the way he wants it to. My breath is coming in gasps, everything that much more intense because I’m trapped.

“I think seven is a good number,” he says, a moment before he leans down a seals his mouth over my clit. Everything lights up, and pleasure bursts through me like a wildfire. I can’t move, I have nowhere to go, and I have no choice but to let the pleasure burn through me, so much brighter than it ever has. Hudson swirls his tongue around my clit, and I shudder, aftershocks spinning up and through me. “That was one,” he says.

“Did you say seven?”

He grins. “I did say that, didn’t I?” I don’t think it’s possible. I simply don’t think that my body will be able to take that much pleasure in one night. “I take that as a challenge,” he says, and I realize that I said it out loud.

“Hudson.”

“Christine.” He fits himself against my entrance and slides in. I almost come again right then. He feels just as good as I remember, and I want to pull him closer, make him fuck me. I flex my hands, but the straps don’t budge. It’s followed by another sharp wave of arousal brought on by the knowledge of my helplessness, and the realization that I’m at Hudson’s mercy. He can give me as much pleasure as he wants.

“I don’t think these are wide enough.” He pushes my legs further apart, stretching me open and making him feel tighter inside me. He pulls out and drives into me again, and I let out a long, low moan because now I feel everything. Every drag of his cock against my pussy, the way he’s pressing into the spot that makes me scream. My body has no slack. It’s not going anywhere and we both know it. Hudson chuckles as he begins to fuck me. He doesn’t build up speed, just drives into me.

Reaching up my body, he palms my breasts, and then drags his nails gently down my exposed skin until he reaches my hips. Extra stimulation. I’m biting my lip, trying to hold in the orgasm that’s trying to burst from me. For some reason, I want to challenge him. I want to hold onto what last little bit of power that I have, and so I hold on. I grit my teeth and close my eyes, but it feels so good. I’m just on this side of paradise and I’m drowning in it. The moments just before orgasm have always been the best for me and now I exist there, or at least it feels that way.

“Christine,” Hudson says.

I open my eyes to look at him, and watch as he wets his thumb with his tongue. He lowers his hand, and I know what he’s going to do. I won’t be able to hold it back. His thumb hovers over my clit, and that wicked smile comes back. “Two.” He presses down on my clit, and the orgasm tears through me. I scream, my body writhing against the restraints but going nowhere. I’m bound with ropes of pleasure. They’re holding me down and making me feel them over and over again.

It’s not until I open my eyes and see that I’m staring at the ceiling that I realize I couldn’t see anything during the orgasm. My chest is heaving against the straps. “Fuck.”

He chuckles, running his thumb over my clit again. I think it’s just so he can see the way I squirm. He’s still buried in me, and I’m dizzy with pleasure.

“Hudson, were you serious?”

“About giving you seven orgasms?”

“Yeah.”

He presses his thumb down. “Why not? We have all night.”

Dragging his hips against mine and pulling back, Hudson thrusts in again, and my body arches. I swear, what his body does to mine will never stop feeling perfect and amazing. And I know that I have hours ahead of me to enjoy it. There’s a smile on my face as he begins to fuck me again.