From the ruins of an abandoned church comes Baltimore’s hottest and most exclusive BDSM club. Twelve Masters. Infinite fantasies. Welcome to Blasphemy…He thinks he caused her pain, but she knows he’s the only one who can heal her…Kenna Sloane lost her career and her arm in the Marines, and now she feels like she’s losing herself. Submission is the only thing that ever freed her from pain and made her feel secure, and Kenna needs to serve again. Bad. The only problem is the Dom she wants once refused her submission and broke her heart, but, scarred on the inside and out, she’s not looking for love this time. She’s not even sure she’s capable.Griffin Hudson is haunted by the mistakes that cost him the only woman he ever loved. Now she’s back at his BDSM club, Blasphemy, and more beautiful than ever, and she’s asking for his help with the pain he knows he caused. Even though he’s scared to hurt her again, he can’t refuse her, because he’d give anything to earn a second chance. And this time, he’ll hold on forever.
Griffin stood in front of her. “We’re practicing Sunday night’s demonstration position. I want to make sure you’re comfortable with it and that it’s not too taxing before we do it in front of an audience, especially since the demos always run a little longer.”
“Yes, Sir,” Kenna said, kneeling naked at his feet.
“I’m going to tie you up. Flog you until your skin is hot and pink. And make you come you until you’re mindless. Understand?” His voice was like gravel, and the bulge in the front of his jeans told her that he was as turned on as she was.
“Yes, Master Griffin. I’m ready.” She shivered.
“Then let’s begin. I want you to sit on your bottom, back straight, knees bent.”
Moving as quickly and gracefully as she could, Kenna got into position. He never revealed what the position would be or exactly how she would be bound, so there was always a thrill of discovery about his bondage that she loved. She took a deep breath as the twine fell against her skin. First, he wrapped a long length around her breasts, squeezing them and making them sensitive, and then he had her sit forward so that her upper body was against the fronts of her thighs.
Each brush of his fingers aroused her. Each wrap of the rope excited her. Each pressing knot pushed her into that place she loved to be.
Next, Master Griffin worked loop after loop around her lower back and the backs of her thighs, holding her in a folded position. His hands moved in what felt like intricate patterns against her spine as he connected those ropes to the ones around her breasts in what felt like some sort of erotic harness.
And then he came around the front of her. “How are you?”
“All Green, Sir.”
He nodded, and then he worked the twine in a stunning pattern down each arm before binding her arms flat against the fronts of her shins, folding her tighter over her legs. It was as he worked on her front that she noticed that he used black rope that matched her prosthetic—had he planned it that way? She wouldn’t put it past him, because the effect was absolutely beautiful against her skin. And part of the point of Shibari was the artist quality of the bondage.
She moaned at how good it felt and looked, and at the fact that Master Griffin was the one who made her feel this way—the only one who had ever made her feel this way.
“You look so fucking beautiful, Kenna,” he ground out as he secured her wrists to her ankles, and then her elbows to the soft spots behind her knees. “There.” He rose and walked around her, and just his observation made her breathe harder, faster. What did he see when he looked at her? Did he see the beauty of his work? Or did he see the damaged woman who’d come home from war?
Focus.
“Now it’s time for the suspension, little one. Once I start lifting you, just give in to the motion.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said, her voice breathy, her pussy already wet with her need.
She concentrated on her breathing and the music and the sounds Master Griffin was making. She couldn’t see what he was doing with the ropes behind her back and the pulley system he’d lowered from the ceiling, so she didn’t concern herself with it, she just gave herself over to what was about to happen, even though she didn’t know exactly what that was.
And then she rose into the air…
Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over twenty-five books in contemporary and paranormal romance and romantic suspense, including the Hard Ink and Raven Riders series. Growing up, Laura’s large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. She lives in Maryland with her husband, two daughters, and cute-but-bad dog, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.
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