without first getting, essentially, beat up.
“Did you at least get laid afterwards?” he asked finally.
Rae smiled as she thought of what she had done to the man she’d pulled to the ground. She’d basically forced him to take her, dragging him onto her and then suddenly flipping to be on top of him, demanding that he enter her and meld his penetration with her body’s already burning landscape of raw, lashed skin.
“Yes,” she answered simply. “Did you?”
He laughed. “Apparently I’m one of those antisocial types. The bartender had to take me under her wing.”
“Her wing, huh?” she laughed. “I’m guessing that’s not all you were under.”
“No,” Mark admitted. “She was pretty good.”
Rae sighed. “I can’t wait until the next one.”
“Who says we’ll be invited?”
“We will,” she promised. “I talked to a couple people about it. We’re in.”
Something in Mark’s belly sank. All at once, for the first time since they’d started playing in the lifestyle, he found that he wanted, more than anything, to have a boring life. He wanted to cut the grass on the weekend and watch football and maybe have some boring missionary sex with his wife once or twice a week.
He didn’t want to bed horny women with tattoos on their asses and perversion on their brains. He didn’t want to see his wife tied up and banged by beefy bald guys who preferred wearing leather chaps to jeans.
In his heart, Mark just wanted to be like normal people.
But one sidelong glance to the woman in the passenger’s seat said that there was nothing that Rae wanted less than that. And so he didn’t say a word.
Rae stared at the welts on her skin in the bathroom mirror. She’d let Mark undress and go to bed ahead of her so that she could have a minute to herself alone. She winced as she peeled her bra and shirt off the dried sweat and beads of blood that crisscrossed her chest. She didn’t want him to see her like this, not now. Rae could tell something was bothering Mark about the club. He’d acted a little funny when she’d finally come out of the bondage area and found him lounging at the bar, nursing a beer. She couldn’t figure out what the matter could be—she’d seen the bartender that he said he’d banged…a hottie. So he’d gotten it good, and she herself had found what she needed… What was the problem all of a sudden? Mark hadn’t had any issues with her sleeping with others in years. She pulled a nightgown over her head and made sure in the mirror that none of the welts were visible. She didn’t need to give his nerves any ammunition…though she didn’t know how she was going to keep the damage hidden long enough for it to heal.
She reached out to turn out the light and grimaced as the silk caught on the edges of raw skin.
“Wow,” she whispered. This night was going to take a while to live down. But in her heart, she was already ready to go back.
“NightWhere,” she said with silent lips as the lights went out. The word echoed in her mind with the reverence of a prayer.
NightWhere.
Chapter Five
Return
Mark barely had the phone to his ear when Rae’s voice announced: “It’s tonight!”
Mark knew what she meant without asking. For the past month that’s all Rae had talked about. Her interest in pain which had long been bubbling near the surface seemed to have exploded into an obsession after their first trip to NightWhere. She’d bought books on bondage and submission. She’d tried to get Mark to flog her and when his slaps disappointed, she’d tried to turn the tables on him. She cornered him in the bedroom one night with thigh-high black boots, a leather corset, black gloves and a long, wicked-looking leather whip. He escaped from that with a couple of well-placed spanks and a deep kiss. She’d given in quickly and with energy—sex had not been that good with her in a long time, he’d thought at the time.
But it had only been the foreplay for what she
“Did you at least get laid afterwards?” he asked finally.
Rae smiled as she thought of what she had done to the man she’d pulled to the ground. She’d basically forced him to take her, dragging him onto her and then suddenly flipping to be on top of him, demanding that he enter her and meld his penetration with her body’s already burning landscape of raw, lashed skin.
“Yes,” she answered simply. “Did you?”
He laughed. “Apparently I’m one of those antisocial types. The bartender had to take me under her wing.”
“Her wing, huh?” she laughed. “I’m guessing that’s not all you were under.”
“No,” Mark admitted. “She was pretty good.”
Rae sighed. “I can’t wait until the next one.”
“Who says we’ll be invited?”
“We will,” she promised. “I talked to a couple people about it. We’re in.”
Something in Mark’s belly sank. All at once, for the first time since they’d started playing in the lifestyle, he found that he wanted, more than anything, to have a boring life. He wanted to cut the grass on the weekend and watch football and maybe have some boring missionary sex with his wife once or twice a week.
He didn’t want to bed horny women with tattoos on their asses and perversion on their brains. He didn’t want to see his wife tied up and banged by beefy bald guys who preferred wearing leather chaps to jeans.
In his heart, Mark just wanted to be like normal people.
But one sidelong glance to the woman in the passenger’s seat said that there was nothing that Rae wanted less than that. And so he didn’t say a word.
Rae stared at the welts on her skin in the bathroom mirror. She’d let Mark undress and go to bed ahead of her so that she could have a minute to herself alone. She winced as she peeled her bra and shirt off the dried sweat and beads of blood that crisscrossed her chest. She didn’t want him to see her like this, not now. Rae could tell something was bothering Mark about the club. He’d acted a little funny when she’d finally come out of the bondage area and found him lounging at the bar, nursing a beer. She couldn’t figure out what the matter could be—she’d seen the bartender that he said he’d banged…a hottie. So he’d gotten it good, and she herself had found what she needed… What was the problem all of a sudden? Mark hadn’t had any issues with her sleeping with others in years. She pulled a nightgown over her head and made sure in the mirror that none of the welts were visible. She didn’t need to give his nerves any ammunition…though she didn’t know how she was going to keep the damage hidden long enough for it to heal.
She reached out to turn out the light and grimaced as the silk caught on the edges of raw skin.
“Wow,” she whispered. This night was going to take a while to live down. But in her heart, she was already ready to go back.
“NightWhere,” she said with silent lips as the lights went out. The word echoed in her mind with the reverence of a prayer.
NightWhere.
Chapter Five
Return
Mark barely had the phone to his ear when Rae’s voice announced: “It’s tonight!”
Mark knew what she meant without asking. For the past month that’s all Rae had talked about. Her interest in pain which had long been bubbling near the surface seemed to have exploded into an obsession after their first trip to NightWhere. She’d bought books on bondage and submission. She’d tried to get Mark to flog her and when his slaps disappointed, she’d tried to turn the tables on him. She cornered him in the bedroom one night with thigh-high black boots, a leather corset, black gloves and a long, wicked-looking leather whip. He escaped from that with a couple of well-placed spanks and a deep kiss. She’d given in quickly and with energy—sex had not been that good with her in a long time, he’d thought at the time.
But it had only been the foreplay for what she