Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 21649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 108(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 72(@300wpm)
"I can take care of myself," I repeat, but I’d probably have better results beating my head against the wall.
He’s silent for a moment, and I hold my breath, waiting for his reaction. “I know you can,” he finally says, though the reluctance is clear in his voice. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop worrying about you.”
There’s no use wasting my words on my Neanderthal brother. I’ll just have to hope Lorenzo comes to accept our relationship when he sees how happy we are. “I have to go.”
“Have a good night. I’ll check in on you soon.”
“I have no doubt,” I mutter and hang up. I set my phone down, feeling a strange sense of liberation.
I head to my bedroom, the events of the evening merging into a hopeful, albeit complicated, future. As I sit on my bed, I text Ryan a simple message.
Me
Thank you for tonight. I’m excited and nervous for tomorrow night.
I hold my breath, watching as the three little dots blink on the screen.
Ryan
Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll take care of you.
Me
I know you will.
Ryan
See you tomorrow. I can’t wait to kiss every goddamn inch of your luscious body.
Me
Just great. You tell me something like that, and now I have to try to get some sleep while I’m all hot and bothered. I’m going to take a nice cold shower.
Ryan
Touch yourself and think of me.
Me
I’m going to take that shower now.
Ryan
Goodnight, kitten.
Me
Goodnight, caveman.
Smiling, I place my phone on the nightstand and lie back, finally allowing myself to believe in the possibility of happiness with Ryan.
Chapter 5
Ryan
The city lights cast fleeting patterns on Michela's face as we drive, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. I give her fingers a gentle squeeze, offering a reassuring smile.
“We're almost there,” I say calmly, glancing at her. “Are you sure about this?”
She nods, a mix of curiosity and apprehension in her eyes. “Yeah, just a little nervous. My overactive imagination is on overdrive, and I have no idea what to expect, but I trust you.”
The Sterling Rope is not just any club; it’s exclusive and deeply private. You don’t simply walk in—you’re invited, vetted, and trusted. The building, tucked away in a nondescript part of town, doesn’t reveal its true nature from the outside. We pull up to the entrance, and I park the car. The anticipation in the air is palpable.
“Ready?” I ask, turning to her.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” she says, giving a small, brave smile.
We step out into the cool night, and I lead her to the back door. I scan my watch against the black plate on the wall, and the heavy metal door opens. The back door security, a familiar presence, nods at me.
“Evening, Ryan. Playing tonight?”
“Yes, James. This is Michela.” His eyebrow shoots up to his hairline, and I realize I managed to shock the unflappable fucker.
“Welcome, Michela,” he states while typing on the iPad behind the counter, checking to make sure my kitten has been approved. After a few seconds, he walks back over to us and smiles while opening the door to allow us inside. “Enjoy your evening.”
The moment we step through, the atmosphere changes. The interior of The Sterling Rope exudes elegance and sophistication—a far cry from the rough, gritty images most might conjure when they think of a BDSM club. The decor is rich and tasteful: deep velvet sofas, soft lighting, and art pieces that evoke both passion and restraint.
Michela’s eyes widen as she takes it all in. “This is… wow.”
I smile, feeling a flutter of pride. “It’s a special place, that’s for sure. Let’s find a spot where we can sit and talk.”
I guide her to a corner of the exhibition room where the lighting is slightly dimmer, affording us some privacy. A few familiar faces nod in acknowledgment as we pass. We settle into a plush sofa, and I pour us both a glass of water from the carafe on the nearby table.
“Is it always like… this?” she asks, her voice hushed, as though she's afraid to disturb the delicate balance of the room.
“It is,” I reply. “Respect and atmosphere are everything here. Everyone adheres to strict codes of conduct.”
She nods, soaking in the information. “So, what exactly do you do here?”
I lean back, taking a sip of my water. “I’m one of the security specialists who walk around making sure things don’t get out of control. I ensure that all activities are consensual and safe, and I help to make sure everyone follows the strict rules. It’s about creating a trusting, respectful environment where people can explore their boundaries.”
A couple on the far side of the room begins a slow, deliberate rope demonstration, their movements synchronized and precise. Michela watches, fascination apparent in her eyes.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmurs.
“It is. And it’s all about trust,” I explain. “Every knot, every movement—it all comes down to the connection between the couple involved.” Working here has taught me a lot, but I’ve never wanted to try it out. No woman has ever tempted me, and I’m pretty sure it’s because my heart always knew it belonged to Michela. As I picture her in the sensuous poses happening across the room, my pulse skyrockets while my fucking cock grows painfully hard.