Page 56

Lauren

“ How are you?” Nic asked, rubbing a hand over my back.

“A little nervous,” I admitted. “It’s one thing to do this in the comfort of my own bedroom, another in front of a live audience.”

He nodded and stepped closer. “We don’t have to go through with it if you don’t want to.”

I shook my head. “No. I want to.”

Two months had passed since Nic took ownership of Velvet’s building, and a lot had changed in that time.

Renovations were in full swing on the third floor.

We’d opened our doors on Thursday and Sunday nights as well, and were already doing enough business that they’d become profitable.

Hoping to capitalize on our earlier brainstorming, we were even subletting to boudoir photographers and camworkers during the day.

Velvet was pulling in more money than ever before, and not just because Nic had kept good on his word and lowered our rent.

Things had changed between us as well. Nic had barely let me out of his sight that first month, concerned that he’d miscalculated and his father might actually do something to hurt us.

But Moira had stayed when everyone else left, and she spent that time pulling Nico Senior back from the brink inch by bloody inch.

Now they were in couples therapy, and the thought of reconciliation didn’t seem as impossible as it had in the days right after that disastrous family dinner.

Nic was slowly starting to relax, starting to believe that he was really, truly free, and the change coming over him was incredible to witness.

He’d stopped wearing his mask in the club.

We’d spent every weekend visiting the various rooms together, learning what we liked as a couple.

Voyeurism remained our most deeply shared kink, but Nic had other tastes that he was still exploring, and it turned out exhibitionism and bondage were two of his favorites.

Hence us standing in the narrow back hallway that ran behind all the private rooms, me dressed in lingerie and a silk robe, him, a pair of low-slung jeans.

My eyes kept catching on his naked torso, the tattered wings tattooed on his chest, the guns on his ribs, and then his abs, unmarred by ink but dotted with scars.

Nic’s muscles weren’t showy. They were dense, compact.

He didn’t have a gym rat body; he had the physique of someone who had gained his muscles the hard way, and I was addicted to the sight of it.

Especially because half the time we fucked, I was in such a rush to get him inside me that he rarely had time to do anything except unzip his pants.

I kept telling myself to slow down, to take my time, but even several months since the first time I’d laid eyes on him again in the church hallway, I still lost my head around him, and honestly? I hoped that never changed.

“Are you sure you don’t want to know what you’re in for?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Not knowing is half the thrill.”

His lips pulled up in a devilish grin. “Suit yourself then.”

My gaze dropped to his favorite red rope in his hands.

The sound of it creaking in the narrow hall sent my pulse racing.

I’d seen him practicing knots with it almost nonstop over the past month—while we were on the couch watching TV, just beyond my camera whenever he sat in on one of my filming sessions, even at the dinner table after he’d finished eating.

He was like one of those grannies who carried around her latest crochet project everywhere she went, only he was learning all the ways to tie me up with it instead of making me a nice pair of gloves.

Not that I was complaining. I loved that he was coming out of his shell.

Loved that I was able to share my world so openly with him.

He’d stayed true to his word, never getting jealous over my work or trying to restrict me in any way.

Just last night, he’d gone down on me while I was sexting with a sub, and I swear it resulted in the most inspired sexts of my life.

“Hey,” he said, slipping a finger through the tie of my robe and using it to drag me forward.

I gazed up at him, my nerves and desire competing for dominance. “Yeah?”

“You know I love you, right?” he said.

I smiled. “I know. And I love you, too.”

He nodded. “Good. Keep that in mind, because you might start thinking you hate me halfway through this.”

What the—

The chime rang out that indicated the start of the show, and Nic threaded his fingers into mine and led me through the door.

Each room in Velvet was different, decorated to capture the mood of what went on inside them, kink-specific props on every stage.

In the bondage room, the lighting was soft and warm, the hardwood lacquered to allow for easy cleaning.

My heels clicked over the floorboards as we passed a Saint Andrews cross, a flogging horse, and a queening chair.

I kept my eyes straight ahead, focused on Nic’s broad back, because I knew that if I looked out at the crowd, my anxiety would spike.

I wanted to do this so badly, had dreamed about it for years, but this was our first time performing.

No matter how turned on I was by thoughts of what was to come, of being watched so closely, I was still nervous.

Nic stopped us next to a simple padded leather tantra chaise that had been conveniently moved to the center of the stage—at least I’d be somewhat comfortable through whatever was to come.

He tossed his rope onto it and turned toward me, cupping my face, tilting me up until our gazes locked.

His eyes were darker than usual, a deep emerald because of how wide his pupils were, and knowing that the promise of tying me up and getting me off in front of everyone had him so turned on only served to spin me higher.

“Thank you for doing this with me,” he said, pressing his forehead to mine.

I let out a shaky breath, willing the last of my nerves to disappear. “You’re welcome.”

“I love you, Lo.”

“I love you, too.”

With a tug, he had me rising onto my tiptoes so he could seal his mouth over mine.

I opened for him immediately, loving the way his tongue slid against mine, how he stepped closer, as if even the slightest gap of air between us was unacceptable.

He didn’t just kiss me; he claimed me, marked me, telling everyone else in the room that while they were allowed to watch, only he was allowed to touch.

His hands dropped from my face, and a tug at my waist told me he was undoing the sash on my robe. Cool air raced over my skin when it fell open, making me shiver, and then he was pushing it off, down over my arms, so everyone could see the barely there lace I wore beneath it.

A whistle cut through the crowd, and then Taylor’s familiar voice. “Yas, bitch!”

Everyone laughed, including me and Nic, and I was going to give her the biggest hug after this for keeping her promise to immediately break the tension.

Perhaps most people wouldn’t have wanted their friends watching them with their partner, but Taylor and Ryan had already seen every part of me, had helped me nitpick my videos.

To me, this wasn’t much different, and the thought of them out there gave me heart, reminded me that everyone in this room was here with good intentions.

Music filtered down from overhead, dark and melodic.

The lights dimmed, and suddenly it felt like it was just Nic and me in the room.

He guided me to the chaise and bid me to lie back on it.

And then he was on me, hands braced by my ribs, lips trailing down my neck.

He moved lower, tonguing and biting at my nipples through the lace until I was panting, digging my fingers in his hair to keep him there.

But he had other destinations in mind and kept moving, gently pulling out of my grip to make his way down my stomach.

He placed a single chaste kiss on the fabric covering my pussy, and then hooked his hands beneath my knees and pushed them up, so it looked like I was sitting on an invisible chair while lying down.

“Keep them there,” he said, voice rough.

I nodded, watching, waiting with bated breath to see what he would do next.

He lifted the rope and uncoiled it, revealing that it was actually three separate pieces.

Two, he dropped onto my stomach, and the third, he folded in half, creating a bend—more often referred to as a “bite” in bondage terms. He wrapped the rope around my left thigh, just above the knee, once, twice, three times, and then tied two simple square knots to secure it, leaving the bite sticking out.

With a tug, he tested it to make sure it would hold, and then straightened that leg so he could kiss the inside of my calf.

His eyes, dark and smoldering with desire, met mine. “Not too tight?”

I shook my head, anticipation rising.

He grinned and slid his hand down my leg, smacking the side of my ass hard enough to sting. “That’s my girl.”

Several low sounds from the audience told me I wasn’t the only one who appreciated the praise and the reminder that we were being watched left me breathless, in a good way.

This wasn’t much different than what I already did, but instead of getting my feedback through messages and tips, I got to hear it live, and knowing that we were about to get a room full of people off sent my desire into the stratosphere.

Nic dragged one of the spare ropes from my stomach, taking his sweet time trailing it between my legs, and tied it around my other leg in exactly the same manner as the first. I had no idea what he was doing.

This wasn’t one of the bonds we’d practiced before, but I trusted him not to hurt me, to know my limits.

And if things got out of hand, I could always use my safe word: taser.