Page 7 of Sweet Torture (Torture Games #1)

FIVE

GRIFFIN

H ave you ever wanted something so bad that you were willing to dive off a cliff into the unknown just to experience that rush that comes with it?

My life is embodied by controlled chaos.

One stray bullet or one carefully constructed trap could change everything within the blink of an eye.

Why is it that I have experienced more fear and self-doubt in the three days after talking to Naz than ever before?

The carefully constructed trap came in the form of a list of hard limits, and the danger is packaged in the luscious curves of the woman who runs rampant in my dreams – and my delicious nightmares.

I am standing on the edge, peering into the familiar tumultuous water below.

I understand the hunger that power creates.

I have starved before, and I have conquered all obstacles with my fingers wrapped around my enemies’ throats.

Fuck, am I not the King of The Underground, where there is no business without going through me?

I hold destinies in my hand and can crush opponents with a single blow and now I must kneel to have my cock touched.

I can get pussy anywhere and yet I crave to have this woman.

Something about her fearlessness short-circuits my mind, and I can’t let her go.

But can I lay all this power at the feet of this temptress?

I wrap my fingers around my throat and gradually flex my fingers until I close my airways, and I experience the familiar panic.

My mind goes into survival mode, and I jump out of my office chair, shaking my hands out, pacing, searching for the calm I have become accustomed to in my life.

Time and time again, I have backed away from the edge and retreated into my comfort zone.

In the three days that have passed, I have worked nonstop and brokered two ‘courier’ assignments, one for the Russian Mob.

I have also fired three employees and retired one thorn in my side, brutally.

Mike believed I was too harsh, but my body was in a constant state of fight or flight, and my temper got the best of me.

I sit back down, resting my elbows on my desk with the inside of my palms, forcing my eyes back into their sockets.

I have a pounding headache that only highlights my inability to take care of my own business.

In the past, all I needed was to strangle either a willing participant or my eager dick, but since the meeting with Naz, my body has found both options elusive.

I sigh and pull the documents from the top drawer where I tossed them earlier.

The space left open for my name is mocking me.

I consciously removed all pens from my desk to resist temptation, but now I feel myself reaching for the fountain pen I always carry in my breast pocket.

I search for the list of limits and scratch out the ones that are completely unacceptable.

Anal or pegging? Absolutely not. Maybe? How would I know? I scratch out the whole section and add the ones I deem related.

Diapers? Fuck no. This is too much, too fast. If I agree to this, I need to ease into it. I wipe the sweat off my brow and sip the water I poured myself. The liquid turns to ash in my mouth.

I just need to review the list and decide if it is still worth pursuing. After all, she said she wanted to play with me, and so far, none of the eliminated options look like a lot of fun.

I rake my hand through my hair and pull lightly at the ends. This is enough to make me go bald long before my time.

I move down the list, eliminating the glaringly obvious ones with decisive strikes and hovering over some options I have never considered .

Group play and any other participants are completely prohibited. Unless she wants to include bloodplay as well. I can certainly make that happen the instant another man dares to touch what is mine.

What the fuck? Listen to me turn possessive. But for this woman, I might just ruin the world.

My hand hovers over the collar option, and I try to imagine what would happen if one of my business associates saw me wearing one.

I toss the pen, loosen my tie a bit, and circle my fingers around my neck, imagining the touch of soft leather.

Would it be such a great travesty? I assume it would be hidden under my clothes, and she doesn’t seem like the type of woman who would undermine my business dealings just to get her way.

She did say I would only be punished when I disobeyed.

A tingle runs down my spine, and my stomach clenches at the thought.

My eyes close involuntarily as I drop my hand to the desk, and endless possibilities run through my mind.

I can see myself draped over her exquisite thighs with her hand rubbing my backside.

She is fitted in stark black lingerie with the lace tickling my side.

I wait impatiently for the blow with my arms keeping me steady in the position she wanted.

My body coils and my cock turns to stone in anticipation and yet I hiss when her delicate hand makes contact with my skin.

I can almost feel her soft lips kissing away the sting left behind by her hand.

She is uttering the same satisfied moan that I heard the other night, and with every blow, my cock turns to steel.

I palm the culprit tenting in my pants right now, and cuss out the traitor.

Shit.

It was never supposed to be like this. If this ever gets out, I will be ruined.

Although my life is shrouded in darkness and secrets, I have been preparing for something like this my whole life. I just need to maintain some control, and we might be able to pull this off.

If only I knew more about the enigma that is Naz Adams.

The men I assigned to find her still haven’t turned up with anything useful. In fact, the cell number she gave me is registered as a burner phone. Why would she need to do that?

I abandon stroking my dick over my pants, thinking I will definitely scar my assistant for life if he comes in here and finds me in this compromisable position.

I sigh and pick up another page to focus on, but my mind wanders to her again. Unless this was her way of separating her personal life from the games she likes to play.

Either way, she claimed communication is needed. And yet, she starts this relationship with secrets.

But isn’t that precisely what I am doing as well? It isn’t like I plan to let her into the inner sanctum of my business dealings or include her in my decisions.

I look at all the pages spread before me.

This is something we can share, and the notion of exploring this with her fills me with an exhilaration unrivalled by my everyday life.

As well as a little disdain for being put in this position.

I pick up the pen and scratch at the page.

I eliminate more options until I find myself staring at a very modest list of limits I could tolerate.

Once done, I put the pen back in my breast pocket and sigh deeply.

Raking the pages closer, I scan to see she has set up a list of demands quite similar to my own. We may have more in common than I realized. Or she has been playing this game so long that she knows exactly how to identify a worthy opponent.

In my business, it is pertinent to always be two steps ahead of your opponent. I assume it is the same for her.

After all, she did say this is a business arrangement.

The thought of her doing this with someone else leaves an unpleasant taste in my mouth, and I take another sip of water.

I have no reason to be jealous, yet I am remorseful over not meeting her sooner.

She has turned out to be a very singular woman and not as easily manipulated as the rest. I am out of my depth with Naz, and most of the time, I feel the water spiralling out of control and pulling me under.

I might just grow to like it.

I fish my phone out of my pocket and dial her number.

She answers on the third ring.

“Naz Adams, who is ready to be a naughty boy?”

I am speechless, and she takes the opportunity to steamroll all over me and my good intentions.

“How about I take you to dinner? I feel like tapas tonight. Seems fitting while we get our hands dirty. Meet me at Baby Cucina on 42nd Street, downtown, let's say, at eight. Oh, and Griffin. Don’t be late.”

And so, it begins.

The restaurant has an eclectic vibe, and it takes me some time to find Naz.

It is nestled between a hippie clothing store and a very questionable-looking vape store.

It looks questionable because the burly men outside in black leather are neither buying nor vaping, for that matter.

The vibe changes completely when I step inside.

Lively music is thundering, and clustered bodies are interacting animatedly with the people they are sitting with, spilling margaritas over an already sticky floor.

Waiters are jogging to and fro with hands filled with little bowls and baskets.

It must be a good night. My eyes search for the woman occupying my mind and find her tucked away in a cozy corner, shielded from the live music coming from the makeshift stage in the opposite corner.

She is waving her arm frantically, and I see the mismatched bangles glint in the light.

She gets out of the booth when I approach after weaving my way through the many tables and wraps me in a very enthusiastic hug.

I exhale loudly, melting into the feeling of her body pressed against mine.

“You have high hopes for this meeting.” I chuckle when she lets me go.

I slide into the booth next to her, needing to be close to her to feel the warmth emanating from her being.

“Oh, you have no idea how excited I am. Did you bring it?”

I know what she is referring to, but I am unwilling to show all my cards yet.

“I have some questions first.”

She beckons the waiter closer while I feel agitation claw at my throat. This will never work if she is going to disregard the rules.

On the other hand, apparently, I am not the one making the rules.

She seems to be ordering every single item on the menu. She places her hand on mine to bring me back.

“What would you like to drink?” she asks .

I place my order, and before the waiter turns away, she instructs him to put the food on the table and not to bother us again.

“Looks like you have done this before.”

She smirks at the jealous tone in my voice. “Of course, I have ordered at thousands of restaurants.”

I can’t help it; I burst out in laughter.

She joins with a giggle, and when it dies down, we both turn serious.

“Remember, we can still be friends if this is too much for you.”

“Friends with benefits?” I tilt my head to the side.

Her joy is contagious. “Always looking for an opening, right?”

I nod fervently, and her smile only widens.

Her fingertips are grazing my thigh again, and I struggle to focus on her words. “Now tell me, what questions do you have for me?”

I have so many, but only one consumes my thoughts at the moment. “What if someone finds out?”

She takes my hand in both hers, and I see the sincerity in her eyes.

“One of my duties is to protect you at all costs. I will never tarnish your reputation or let the vultures feast on your carcass. Besides, that little contract of yours is much more damaging than mine, that I can promise you. At least with mine, you know what to expect and how to react, and I have the confidentiality clause.”

I snort, loosening my hand from her grip before entangling my fingers in the table in front of me. I avoid her eyes while I admit what has been plaguing me. “That’s the thing, I have no idea how to be what you need. And some of those things on the list are not for me.”

Fuck! How is it that this woman can make me so vulnerable without even trying?

“Oh, I completely agree. I just gave you that list to offer you all the options available, but if you looked at my lists, you would have realized that I am very tame. For me, it is more about the game I control than hurting you, if that is what you are worried about. I don’t get off on pain.”

“And you are sure you don’t get off on my hard cock hammering into you either?”

We seem relatively secluded, and I know she wouldn’t have brought me here if we had been exposed.

Her smile lights up the room. “Of course I do. What do you think the reward for being a good boy for me would be?”

Her finger slides over my hard nipple, and I wince when she flicks it. “I thought you were just going to use me for your own pleasure,” I reply.

She looks offended. “It does give me pleasure to give you orgasms. Just as it will give me pleasure to see you completely captivated as I caress your skin while rubbing my needy pussy against your exposed thigh.”

My dick hardens more, and I can’t contain the groan that escapes. “You will be the death of me, woman.”

She giggles sweetly and places her hand on my thigh.

“I doubt that, but I would love to try. How about we get out of here and have a trial run? I can show you a typical scene, and you can decide if you can live with the demands of someone else being in control. We can leave right now,” she urges.

As I start looking around, I feel my cock jump at the prospect of being inside this woman again. I want nothing more, but I don’t want to seem too eager. “We are still waiting for the food.”

At that moment, three waiters round a corner to place bags filled with takeaway containers on the table.

“When did you do all this?” I gasp.

The alluring smile makes my insides turn jelly. “Let’s get out of here.”

She takes out her card to pay, and I leave her be.

When she is done putting her card away and awarding the waiter with another exuberant smile, I hurry to take all the bags and follow her outside to my waiting car.

I told my driver to wait, anticipating a very different outcome.

I even left the contract in a folder in the car.

“Where is your car? And where are we going?” I ask .

“To your place; I brought along everything I will need.”

I look at the big bag by her side, which she is tapping with confidence.

My hands are full of food, therefore I hand them over to the driver before I turn to open the door for her.

She has already gotten in, not waiting for chivalry, and I follow her inside.

The bag is placed on the seat between us, and I dare to glimpse inside.

Was that rope?

I give my driver the instruction to return home and relax back into the seat. Finally, this is happening again. And if I don’t like it, I can terminate our agreement. She said so.

But somehow, I doubt that will ever happen. I am already twisted up in whatever this is, and I fear I never want to pull at the thread that could unravel the wickedness that is Naz Adams.