Chapter Nine

Drake

The day couldn’t have gone better. It floored me how different everything was from the cluster fuck that had unraveled last night. I’d thought I’d lost her, that she’d flee the Bahamas when I’d screamed at her over my footlocker. Then I’d almost been too late to save her. I wasn’t even sure if she remembered everything from the night before or if she just wasn’t mentioning it. I’d almost beaten one of those men to death, pounded into his eyebrows and nose until they cracked and blood flowed. All those things like back in the desert, back in my post.

If she remembered that, she wouldn’t still be here; she’d know how fucked up I was.

Still, we’d swam in the ocean, snorkeling and enjoying the wildlife. I’d done it dozens of times, but it had been a year or more since I’d had time. It was odd the things you could get used to. I didn’t think about how amazing it was to see, or how that sight could bring a smile to someone’s face until I’d seen Belle so excited. She really was an eco-nut, but it was cute on her, the way she kept swimming after a family of turtles and cooing when she touched a baby’s shell.

Definitely worth it.

I just had to remember all the good things in my life sometimes. I tended to forget, or maybe my wealth just left me always looking for the next high, the next big thing. I got too used to how beautiful everything could be and seeing Belle so excited woke something up in me. Her enthusiasm bled into mine, actually prodded mine back to life.

Dinner on the boat watching the sunset had been pitch perfect as well, but now I wasn’t nervous, not exactly. I just didn’t want to deal with any more fallout; I didn’t want to chase her down again if she didn’t like what I was showing her. My playroom, where I kept all my bondage gear, was a sacred space to me. I had one arranged in every estate or apartment I had. It was the defining detail I held out for. If I was going to buy a property, then it had to have the right bones to be remodeled to allow me to play, to practice control.

Some days it felt like being a Dom was the only way I could do that. I couldn’t stop my PTSD episodes from losing control. I couldn’t always fight back the darkness that consumed me, but I could be as cool and collected as I wanted to be when I was in charge, when I had a lover bound before me and obeying my every command.

I wasn’t going to start that intensely for her, but she needed to see everything about me, at least if we were going to continue with our negotiations for this month.

Belle looked up at me and frowned as we stood in front of the thick oak door. I pulled out a skeleton key and patted it against my hand.

“This is the only thick door here,” she noted. “Even your… the room in the library,” she corrected, clearly trying to gloss over last night. “Even that has a normal door. So, is this your secret lair?”

I shrugged and tried to keep my composure. I was best at that.

Maintain control at all costs.

It was what I needed because sometimes an animal slipped out when I didn’t keep that leash on it, when I let myself grow weak.

“Actually, it is.”

She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

I turned the key in the lock and twisted open the knob. As the door swung wide, I let her take in everything from the black painted walls, the cuffs and whips, the chains and the paddles, the floggers and the cluster of satin blindfolds. I didn’t look back when I entered into my playroom. This was my refuge. If Belle wanted to come, then she would. She’d cross that boundary between us or she wouldn’t.

There was a gasp behind me.

“Is this what I think it is?”

I nodded. “It’s my room, where I want to be, where I have to be.”

Her voice was quiet, subdued. “This is where you do everything, isn’t it? Bring your subs?”

“It’s where I’d like to bring you. We can start slower, but you wanted to do negotiations. I figured we needed to cut to the chase. Either you can handle the idea of this room, can handle going further, or you can’t.”

She crossed the threshold. I knew because her hand was on my shoulder. “I want to. I said I wanted in on negotiations and I meant it, but I can’t just get chains and—is that a cat-o’-nine-tail?”

I turned around and placed a hand under her chin. Those blue eyes of hers were as intense as ever but seemed to have some humor in them, too. She seemed to be game for this, even if I could see the fear lurking there, too.

“There’s a little bit of everything. I can’t wait to show you everything Ben-Wa balls can do someday.”

A blush streaked across her cheeks, and I knew then that I was getting my way with her, that her walls were coming down. She wouldn’t have followed me this far, into this room, without wanting to be here. I wanted that as well. I craved her, like a fresh hit of heroin in a junkie’s arm. Somehow, some part of me maybe even knew that at the first negotiation. I knew it for sure when I pulled that asshole off her.

“I don’t even know what those are.”

I nodded and crossed behind her to shut and lock the door. Mrs. Johnson and Leonard knew better than to wander in my wing of the house. There were certain places I kept sacred and certain things only I handled. This room was one of them.

“Do you want to play with me, princess?” I lowered my voice to a rumble and loved the way she seemed to fidget from foot to foot. I knew what that meant, had seen it in the others I’d brought here. I bet she was fucking wet already, her juices flowing freely and ready for a hard fuck, even if she wasn’t ready for the whole nine yards.

“I don’t want to be tied up, not yet, and I’m not sure I can handle pain.”

“You’re not ready for anything that intense,” I said. “But you can lie down on the bed.” I gestured to the massive four-post monster covered in red silk sheets. “I’ll be right with you.”

She did as she was told, for once not offering me her counter perspective. Of course, that was Belle as well. She wanted to argue and take the moral high ground but, deep down, she also wanted—no, needed—my touch the way I needed hers. While she settled herself on the bed, I rummaged through the shelf, pulling out the toys I’d need for the night; the basic things that would help integrate her to my world. Then I turned on the stereo to something melodic and low, but still sensual.

Something primal.

After all, it matched what we were doing here.

Turning, I couldn’t help but smirk at the veritable feast laid out before me. Her delicate pale skin seemed like paper against the blood red of the sheets. Her breasts heaved with every breath, and my cock twitched at the glimpse of her dusky rose nipples. I wanted to lick them, to trace my tongue over every fucking inch of her succulent areolas. She was a gift from the gods, and she was mine.

“So, what do you have there?” she asked, her voice anxious and higher pitched than normal.

“A blindfold and the basics for sensory play. I promise nothing painful, no stings unless you ask.”

“I don’t think I will,” she said, a pout making her lips stand out even more, making me daydream about what they’d feel like wrapped around my dick.

“We’ll see on that, I promise,” I said. Then I set out the toys on the bedside stand: two gloves, one satin and one of rabbit fur and a blindfold. “Now, Ms. Fontaine, we’re going to see how sensitive your senses are.”