Knots (Club Imperial Book 4) (19 page)

“How do you know?” Cece asked.

“Volunteer paramedic, once a week,” he answered.

Quinn came running back up. “Sorry, Nathaniel. He was way too fast. He ran into the woods and there was no way I could find him. Is everyone okay?”

“Except for the victim here,” Nathaniel said. “Do we know who she is?”

Van gasped and Cece looked at him sharply. “You know her?”

“Oh shit, yes,” he said. “Don’t let Morgan or Nick back out here.”

“Who is she?”

“Casey,” he said. “Casey Lind. Nick’s ex-fiancée.” Van looked up at Nathaniel and Quinn. “You can’t let them out here. Don’t let them know she was here. Just…trust me on this.” He looked down at the woman, and he looked genuinely concerned for her. Cece realized the woman had passed out at some point, and a moment later they heard sirens for the ambulance and cops. “I’ll go with her to the hospital.”

“We’re going to have to give statements,” Quinn said. “Did you see the guy’s face?”

Emmy and Cece looked at each other, and shook their heads. Cece inwardly cringed. There was now a would-be rapist on the loose in the city.

The keycard was waiting for her, along with a single rose and a note. Cece raised an eyebrow but accepted everything from the desk clerk, and headed for the elevator. She opened the note as she waited for the car to arrive.

Mistress-

A simple thank you for this moment together. I truly hope I can please you in every way.

Yours,

John

The door slid open, and Cece stepped in. As much as she had tried not to get excited about this meeting, she couldn’t help it. John was magnetic, and she was being pulled in. The note was short, and to the point, much the way everything they’d had together to that point was.

For just a moment, in the elevator car, she hesitated; Killian slipped into her mind. Her forbidden Killian. She couldn’t help herself—she wasn’t even sure he would be agreeable to her lifestyle. She didn’t know if she could give it up. She didn’t even know if polyamory was something he would consider if she didn’t or couldn’t give up the lifestyle.

But she wanted to sample John. Just this once, if that’s all she could have. Someone so wonderfully compliant, so willing, so able, was just something had to sample once. She hoped, and feared, this wouldn’t be as wonderful as her sex seemed to think it would be.

The doors slid open on the fourth floor, and she stepped out to the hall.

Her fear peaked for just a moment when she saw a figure disappear down the hall. She was over reacting, but after finding Casey Lind in that mess, and having to give a deposition on what had happened, she just wasn’t sure anymore. That had been the most nerve-wracking experience since Tessa had been beaten-up in the room at the club.

Cece abhorred the rapists out there; she was disgusted she had been so close to one and possibly made it on to his hit list—either for an assault or for a literal hit. She truly hoped he didn’t remember any of their faces.

The shadow was gone now, and she walked down to the door she had the keycard to. She opened the door carefully, swinging it only as wide as she needed to slip into the room.

What she found was nothing like what she’d expected. It was radically different from anything she and Everett had planned.

The room was warmly lit with glowing blocks of light—instantly recognizable as battery candles in small, opaque vases spaced around the room. The usual hotel furniture was rearranged to be out of the way, giving the room the illusion of more space. All the brand-recognizable bed clothes were gone and in their place were black satin sheets, and more than two hundred feet of white silk rope in four bundles lay in the center. And in the middle of the new space created, knelt John Smith, masked and hooded, wearing a pair of black satin boxers, eyes downcast, hands on knees, perfectly submissive.

Cece’s whole body thrummed once again. This was
hers
for the taking tonight.

She walked in and walked around him once. “Good evening, John.”

He didn’t answer.

Perfect.

“You may answer my questions for now,” Cece amended. “You have leave to speak.”

“Thank you mistress,” he said.

“What is your pleasure this evening, John?”

“A full bind, mistress, if you please.”

Cece walked to the door and placed her bag and coat in the closet. She quickly discarded the clothes she had been wearing all day and left herself dressed in a black corset, thong and thigh highs. She was already wet with anticipation of this. Walking back, she picked up a bundle of rope. “This will take time. You are prepared for that?”

“Yes, mistress.” His voice was breathy and low, and she imagined it caressing her skin. “I wish myself to be fully at your disposal, Mistress. Take whatever you wish of me. I would consider myself in your favor if my cock would fill you tonight.”

Oh, how Cece wanted that. So very much. And tonight, she could have it. She looked at John there, and decided on two binding sessions—one to see if she could get him into subspace, and one for them to play around in.

“Are you ready, Mister Smith?” She walked around him again, making sure he could see her heals and hose.

“Yes, mistress.”

“We’re doing two forms, John.”

“Mistress?”

She leaned down so he could finally see her. “Two forms. I want you in subspace. I want to enjoy getting you there. I want you to feel each and every strand of this magnificent rope you brought with you as it slides across your skin. I want you to lose yourself in the sensation of my hands guiding it around you. I want you to be so lost in sensation that you come without a single touch to your magnificent cock. And I want you to be hard again a moment later, so I can slide you inside me, and I can join you in that perfect bliss.”

His only answer was an exhale of breath, loaded with the soundless touch of lust. Cece stood. “Knees together,” she stated. “Hands on the floor in front of you. Press your chest to the tops of your legs.”

He complied immediately, and Cece couldn’t help running her hand down his smooth, muscle-rippled back. She wanted him to take off his hood so she could see who this was. Nothing would ever turn her away from Killian, but being able to see this man properly would be a wonderful substitute until she could get out of the mess she was in.

The silk rope uncoiled easily and she dropped down behind him. Slipping the rope under his ankles, she started weaving an intricate web of silk around his feet, his toes, his ankles. She wove up his calves a little way, and then lashed the rope and over his lower back. Cece pulled it tight and did it again, just a few inches further up.

This time, as she pulled it taut, she heard a sigh escape the stoic figure on the floor with her. She smiled, and lashed it around him four more times, binding him to his knees. Each turn around his body brought a deeper and more contented sigh.

Cece paused only to grab the next bundle of rope. She started at his hands this time, weaving and threading it around his fingers, wrists, arms. She slid the ropes through her fingers, winding them around his muscles, up over his back and back down the other arm to be bound neatly together.

She was lost in the sensation and patterns that she was creating. She didn’t know how long it took for her to finally lash the last pieces of rope together. She forgot who she was, all of the problems that surrounded her. Cece floated along, consumed by the feel of rope and skin, the pressure of winding the silk around the muscle, the occasional soft sigh of satisfaction from either herself or John—she wasn’t even sure who it was some time.

She was thoroughly in her Domme space. And even after she was done with ropes, the forms, the patterns, she still trailed her hands over his skin, over the ropes, feeling the intricate weavings she had created for him—and for herself.

She knelt in front of him and lifted his chin. She couldn’t see his eyes; she wanted to. She could see his lips. They were parted slightly as he breathed through the bindings.

“You’ve done so well John. So well.”

“What I wouldn’t give to have this every night, mistress.”

“It wouldn’t be as amazing if you did.” Cece leaned in and kissed him hard. She delved into him, tasting him, dueling with him. Dominating him in even their kisses. He was a perfect submissive. He gave whatever she asked of him. “Where are you, John?”

“Floating, Mistress.”

“You can stay there?”

“Forever.”

Damn. He really was amazing.

His breath brushed across her lips. “Mistress. A request.”

“Yes?”

“I wish to stay like this, but I would like you take your pleasure. I brought you a gift to accomplish that.”

“Did you.” Cece was intrigued.

“On the night stand, if it pleases you.”

She turned and her eyes landed on the wrapped box that sat there. Moving fluidly, her whole body relaxed from the rope work, she picked it off the stand and plucked the ribbon off. The paper fell away and she was left with a box in her hand. The box showed the contents inside.

A very sophisticated, very pretty, very
effective
vibrator.

Well
.

Cece unboxed the raucous pink object and inspected it. Simple, and elegant, it declared itself to be waterproof with two different vibrators inside. She found the buttons and it did have two vibrators on either end. One was high and fast, one was low and deep.

And John Smith wanted to watch her use this.

Grabbing a pillow, she sat in front of him again. “This is a magnificent vibrator, John. You did your research on these. I’m pleased with this choice.” Leaning in, she spoke again softly. “And you want to see me to use this on myself. Would you like to watch me come with your gift?”

“Please, Mistress.” His breath was a little ragged, and Cece figured that was from his anticipation. She was going to enjoy this. So was he.

Cece removed the mask from over his eyes so he could see, and she was a little disappointed he was wearing colored lenses. She didn’t let it deter her--she slipped the tiny little thong, which hid nothing anyway, down her legs, grateful she’d gone with the clipless corset. As she slid it off, she saw his eyes watching her move, watching the little scrap of fabric slip down. Cece ran her hand back up her inner thigh to where she was wet with her own silk, his eyes following her fingers. She ran her hand up over her inner most lips, spreading the wetness over herself, and carefully separated the folds that hid her clit.

Her own finger was an electric jolt through her body; she didn’t try to stop the sigh that escaped. The domme space was still there, heady and heavy and sexual. She palmed the toy, and turned on the low, deep rhythm to tease herself.

She guided the vibrations around her vulva, not touching the sensitive spot again. She wanted to enjoy this tease as much as he did. “Is that what you want to see, John? My whole pussy quivering for you, because of your little toy?”

“Yes, mistress.” His voice was heavy with lust.

She moved her legs so they were on either side of his body, slightly bent. “Your own private porn, John. Watching your mistress make herself come, just for you.” Cece stroked the vibrator over her entrance slowly and the slick gush of her own heat matched the delightful clench of her whole body as the sensation rushed out from her more-than-willing sex.

Reveling in that sensation, she stroked the vibrator over her entrance slowly. It sent wave after wave of desire flowing through her veins. Cece turned on the other vibration, and angled the narrower end to press against her clit. She dipped the thick end to herself, the violation feeling sinful and filling. The low thrum against the excited skin pushed her lightheaded desire up again. She leaned back on the pillow, and bent her knees even more, pulling her sex open, making it even easier to slide the vibrator deeper into her soaked channel.

“Shit, this feels wonderful, John. I cannot wait to feel your dick inside me, sliding against my clit, stuffing my whole pussy with that magnificent shaft.”

And she couldn’t. She knew what he looked like--that large cock just dripping with his precum as he sat there bound in her ropes. She wanted him, in the worst way. She let the vibrator have its way with her as she thought about riding that toned, muscled body below her. As Cece lay fantasizing about him, and what she would do once he was inside her, her mind wiped away the hood, and firmly replaced him with Killian’s face.

She remembered his hands, his touch. His slick skin as he fucked her—from above, from below, from behind. The vibrator in her hands became his tongue as it danced across her clit, her whole vulva. He delved into her with his tongue while his fingers played with her bundled nerves.

Cece lost herself in the thrust of the vibrator in and out of her tunnel, bucking her hips against the toy as it filled her. She pressed it all the way to the top, and pulled it back out, holding against her clit as she imagined it was Killian’s face there, licking and sucking—forcing her desire to spark and catch fire in her very blood. With a quick twist of her wrist, the vibrator was in a new position, and Cece pressed it hard against her clit while the rest was deep inside her. It was the perfect storm of sensations, and she found herself passing just the exposed tip over her clitoris, panting and pushing her hips against it.

There was a touch of skin, and Cece looked down to find that John had managed to inch forward, and he was there at the juncture of her thighs. He had placed a kissed a kiss on her mound then pulled back and blew a cool stream across her soaked pussy.

It was the end of her. Her hips bucked hard and the vibrator and John’s breath ripped the scream of orgasm from her throat. Her mind blanked, the feelings overwhelming every sense. The blood roared through her ears and every part of her contracted in time with her full channel.

John’s tongue was there, caressing her, soothing her as she started to drop down from the heights that the toy—and her memories of Killian—had taken her. She allowed John to have his way for a few moments as she let the vibrator slid from her sheathe. Her breath was ragged, but she finally sat up again, wish she could touch his hair.

Cece pulled him away gently. “Did I give you permission to lick me, John?”