Club Helix: The Power Games (36 page)

She’s quiet for a moment, processing my explanation. Her eyes narrow dangerously.

“Is that why Logan split me and Emmett up?”

“No. He’d planned to split you up whether I went on or not,” I answer honestly.

“So you buying me at the auction had nothing to do with me being with Emmett?” she presses.

“You weren’t with Emmett,” I rationalize. “Anyone could see he wasn’t your Dom.” I tilt her chin up. “What’s this about?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head slightly. “Rebecca just said something about you only bidding on me so Emmett couldn’t buy me, and I thought maybe it was some kind of male competitiveness…” Her voice trails off.

“Rebecca’s a troublemaker who has it in for you,” I say firmly. “Don’t listen to her. I am here because of you, Ava. Because I wanted you.”

“Oh,” she says softly.

I grab her hand. “Come on, I’ll show you the rest of my house.”

I show her around the four-bedroom apartment that takes up an entire floor of the building, including the beautifully decorated bedroom where my submissives spend the night on the rare occasion that they sleep over.

“They don’t sleep with you?” she asks.

“I told you at the beginning of the games, I don’t typically allow submissives to sleep with me. It’s better that way.”

My tour ends at the locked room at the end of the hall.

“What’s in here?” she asks curiously as I pull out a key and fit it into the lock. Her voice turns teasing. “Your secret bat cave?”

By way of answer, I turn the key in the lock and push the door open, gesturing for her to enter. She steps inside cautiously.

“Holy shit,” she says, her eyes growing wide. “You have your own Helix Room right here.”

I look around the dungeon that holds everything I could need to satisfy my darkest urges—a St. Andrew’s cross, a custom-built spanking bench, a bed built for all kinds of bondage, and a huge chest that holds every implement of pain and pleasure imaginable. The walls are hung with an assortment of whips, floggers, paddles, canes, and restraints.

“I had it custom built when I bought the place a year and a half ago. It’s completely soundproof.”

“You’ve thought of everything,” she says, her voice strangled. She turns to study me. “Have you always wanted…this?” Her wave encompasses the entire sophisticated dungeon.

“Yes. From the time I was about fourteen, I’ve known my tastes were a little different.”

“So your wife was submissive? Did she like it when you hurt her?”

My heart stops as I eye her warily. “How do you know about my wife?” I ask sharply.

“Rachel told me. She thought I knew. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” she says, her eyes lowering.

This is it. The true test of whether we might have a future. Although I’d hoped to have a little more time with Ava before we had this discussion, I realize it’s probably best to determine now if she wants to continue, knowing what I expect and what I have to give.

“No, you should have,” I reassure her. “I want complete honesty between us.” I sigh, running my fingers distractedly through my hair. “I met Natasha in grad school. She was everyone’s all-American sweetheart—outgoing, beautiful, and smart. Everyone loved her. Somehow, out of all the guys who constantly followed her around, hoping she’d notice them, she fell for me, and we got married a year later.

“Our relationship was purely vanilla. Deep down I’d always known what I was and what I craved, but when I met Natasha, I tried to pretend the demon in me could be silenced. I loved her and she loved me, and I thought that would be enough. I knew a girl like her would be horrified if she knew the dark and depraved thoughts that lurked deep inside me. I guess in some ways I thought she could save me from myself, that if I tried hard enough, I could actually be the man she thought I was, not the twisted monster I knew I was. But the demon inside me couldn’t be silenced. She wanted sweet kisses and moonlit walks, and I wanted her tied up and gagged with the stripes of my whip marking her skin.

“I kept my desires hidden like a deep, dark secret, and on the surface I managed to be the perfect husband she deserved. We were in love and were happy together for a while. But a couple of years into our marriage, it became harder and harder for me to pretend I was someone I wasn’t, and our marriage started to suffer. Secrets do not make for good relationships. It’s why I insist on honesty now.

“Then one day we ran into an old girlfriend of mine who let it slip that I used to frequent a popular BDSM club in college, and Natasha put two and two together. I assured her I was happy with what we had, but she saw through the lie. Our marriage had been on life support for a while, and she was desperate to save it. She tried to be what I wanted her to be, and in the end it destroyed both of us.

“I won’t ever make that mistake again,” I add grimly. “I won’t ever allow myself to fall in love again, and I won’t pretend to be something I’m not. After Natasha, I gave in and embraced the monster inside me. It’s who I am.”

Ava’s arms wrap around me from behind, her cheek pressed against my back. “You’re not a monster,” she says quietly.

“I am, Ava,” I say firmly. “I’m not cut out for sweetness or tenderness or love. This is what you get with me.” I gesture to the room. “This is all I have to offer.”

I wonder if it can be enough for her.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ava

When we arrive at Logan’s club, my head is still reeling from my afternoon with Roman, and I’m still trying to absorb everything I’ve learned about this mysterious man who sets my senses on fire. There’s certainly more to Roman Castile than meets the eye. He’s a multimillionaire, clearly as self-possessed and in control of his personal life as he is of his masculinity. But there’s also a sweet and vulnerable side to him that he keeps hidden and a tortured part of him that thinks he’s beyond redemption for wanting the things he wants.

There’s no denying the way my body responds to him, or the fact that I’m falling for him. But I know there’s no future for me with a man like Roman. He’s been clear about what he wants, and I’ve vowed never to give a man so much control over me that I end up like my mother. And Roman definitely wants control. He’ll settle for nothing less than everything, and I’m not prepared to give that to anyone, not even Roman.

Logan starts talking about tonight’s event, and I’m distracted from any more depressing thoughts about Roman and me.

“Ladies, while you were enjoying some R and R in the wine country, your Doms have been practicing their rope work with my friend and renowned
shibari
expert, Jonathan Kincaid. For the sixth round of the Power Games, they’re going to practice what they’ve learned on you.”

Tessa and I exchange a glance. We’d known something was up when we’d been told to strip down to our underwear and been given silk robes to wear.

She pipes up. “What’s shibari?”

“Shibari is the erotic art of rope bondage,” Logan answers. “It’s quite beautiful. The arrangement of rope on a submissive’s body and the position of her limbs emphasizes sensuality and vulnerability, and the placement of the rope itself as well as the knots can be used to arouse or punish. Shibari has also been known to induce subspace, so prepare yourselves for an interesting evening.”

I remember Roman telling me about subspace, but it sounds like a hoax to me. I’m damn sure I’d be too terrified to reach a peaceful, trancelike state from being flogged like Roman had suggested, but achieving some sort of sexual bliss solely from being strung up with rope seems just as unlikely.

“Points will be awarded for the best rope work and will be applied to the winning team’s score, and as always, the challenge for the Doms will be balancing pushing their submissives’ boundaries to get the maximum points without demanding more than she can handle. A girl bound in the ropes of bondage resembles a beautiful sculpture, so a photographer will be here capturing each submissive in ropes once her Dom is finished. The pictures will become part of the permanent art collection at the Helix and will be hung in the lobby.”

“I told you you’re going to be famous,” Tessa leans over to whisper to me with a smile.

An hour later, I have to admit that shibari is as beautiful as it is terrifying. Each Dom has already worked with the shibari expert to choose the unique style he will use on his submissive, and the Doms’ choices are oddly telling of their personalities. Emmett and Rebecca are first, and not surprisingly Emmett’s rope work is an artistic masterpiece. Using a series of knots, he creates a beautiful and intricate bodysuit that covers Rebecca’s torso erotically and frames her lush breasts. Additional rope creates a thick collar with the end running down her spine to her ass, and I wriggle uncomfortably in my seat as he maneuvers the thick strand tightly through her crack and up between the folds of her labia, a knot strategically placed where her clit is. He finishes by binding her arms over her head and pulling her up onto her toes, and I can tell the photographer knows he just hit pay dirt. Although I hate to admit it, Rebecca’s absolutely beautiful, and she’s the perfect canvas for Emmett’s artistry.

Also not surprisingly, Michael’s rope work makes me uneasy. He ties Carly’s feet to her thighs as she kneels, and then fashions a chest harness, which he attaches to a ring in the ceiling, so that while her knees are on the floor, she’s leaning forward, her upper torso supported by the rope. It’s beautiful but with an edge of violence, her breasts tightly trapped between the fiber, resulting in them becoming swollen and enlarged as she’s suspended from the ring attached to the ceiling. As the final touch, he attaches nipple clamps with heavy weights to her breasts as she hangs.

I wonder again how he’s lasted so long on the show, but he’s ruggedly good-looking and a former NFL football player, and in addition to already having his own fan base, I think on TV he must come across as masculine and authoritative instead of cruel. It probably doesn’t hurt that Carly is one of the sweetest and most exotically beautiful girls I’ve ever met. But the audience doesn’t see what goes on behind the scenes. If I hadn’t had to sign a nondisclosure, I could make a fortune writing a tell-all about what really goes on.

Megan and Caleb are next, and although the design Caleb has chosen isn’t as immobilizing or intense as Emmett’s and Michael’s, it’s clear Megan is struggling with being restrained. Using different-colored rope, he ties her in a kneeling position with her arms bound behind her and secured to her feet so her back is bowed and her breasts thrust forward. She starts to hyperventilate when she realizes he intends to suspend her in the ropes. He talks to her soothingly as he lifts her, telling her to relax and give herself over to the sensation, but it’s obviously too much for her. With tears running down her face, she uses her safe word.

We all stare, shocked, as Caleb lowers her back down. She’s frantic, begging him to untie her, and the shibari guy steps forward and quickly cuts her loose with a pair of paramedic scissors. She collapses in Caleb’s arms, crying.

“I’m so sorry,” she keeps whispering over and over.

I’ve never really liked Megan—probably because she’s been Rebecca’s side chick for the duration of the show—but I can’t help but feel sorry for her now.

“What happened?” I whisper to Roman.

“The immobilizing bondage of the rope work obviously hit some kind of trigger with her. Sometimes you never know about a trigger until you’re knee-deep in the scene. It’s too bad it had to happen during an official event,” he adds grimly.

Logan discreetly instructs Caleb to take Megan into a private room to take care of her, sending Rachel along to help.

Turning back to us and the cameras, he says, “Unfortunately for Megan and Caleb, they are officially out of the games since Megan used her safe word. However, we still have two couples to go, so Luke, why don’t you come show us what you’ve chosen for Tessa?”

The mood has changed drastically, and I’m wishing Roman and I had already gone. It’s messing with my head knowing the shibari was intense enough to make Megan actually use her safe word. She is way more experienced than me and one of the tougher submissives on the show; if she couldn’t handle it, I’m wondering how I possibly can. Luke must be thinking the same thing, because he barely restrains Tessa, using simple and loosely tied knots to bind her on the floor.

As soon as they’re finished, Roman pulls me up onto the stage with him. My stomach is churning with butterflies, and terror is suddenly clawing at me. I can’t do this.

“Kneel, Avalon,” he says, his voice firm.

His intention is clear, although I have no idea why he’s chosen this moment to institute protocol. I know he’s not particularly a fan of it, and none of the other Doms have required their subs to kneel before them first.

I hesitate for a fraction of a second, but his face is unyielding, and I can tell he means business. I lower myself to my knees and part my legs slightly, my hands resting on my thighs and my eyes downcast like he’s taught me. From this vantage point I can see the hard bulge in his tailored pants.

“Look at me,” he commands softly.

My confused eyes meet his calm gray ones.

“I have you kneel when you need a reminder of your place, and mine. Stop thinking and wondering and worrying. Your only task as my submissive is to quiet your mind and accept whatever I ask of you. There’s freedom in that. Embrace it. I won’t pull back simply because Megan used her safe word, but I promise I won’t push you past what you can handle. Do you trust me to know that?”

I nod nervously.

He steps behind me, and I swallow hard.
Here we go.
He rakes his fingers through my hair, lightly massaging my scalp as he gathers my hair into a low ponytail.

“I’m not going to blindfold you this time. If you get scared, I want your eyes on me. Let go,” he murmurs soothingly. “Let the rope relax you.”

I don’t know about the rope relaxing me, but his hands in my hair do. I feel like dissolving into a puddle at his feet as he plays with my hair, wrapping the rope around the top of my ponytail and then tying it off into a knot, leaving a long length hanging down my back.