Trigger, p.8
Trigger, page 8
An engaged woman who’s meeting another man for drinks…
Fuck, this was a bad idea. It shouldn’t shock me. He used to send me dirty things all the time when we were together.
But we’re not together, and he knows I’m engaged.
Not a booty call.
I see the bar the minute I round the corner and notice the line outside. I’ve heard of this place before. Everything I’ve heard has been that it’s one of the most popular night spots in the city and the line outside proves that. My anxiety is high, nerves on the fritz, but I’m able to pull up the text and just as my trembling fingers are about to text him that I’m here, I hear his voice.
“Sienna.”
My eyes flash towards him and my mouth goes dry.
Black slacks. Black button down shirt, rolled up to his forearms. Damn, his forearms haven’t worsened with age like I was hoping. This would be so much easier if he weren’t so god damn sexy.
“Trigger,” I say, gaining courage to speak.
“You’re on time for once.” The corner of his mouth lifts slightly.
“There’s a lot about me that has changed,” I say, almost a mutter.
“I’m learning that.” He nods inside. “I got us a table.” The door’s being held open for us by a worker and when we pass by the huge line of people waiting to get in, there are whispers and phone cameras clicking…at Trigger.
“What the hell’s wrong with those people?” I ask when we’re seated in our private table in the back of the club. “How the hell did you get this seat?” Confused doesn’t cut it. Last time I was with Trigger he barely had ten dollars to his name. We scraped by on my paycheck and the measly sum he got from that shop back home each week.
And now he’s got what looks to be exclusive seating in what seems to be the hottest bar in the area.
“Luck.” He slides into the bench across from me and steeples his fingers together. “Drink?”
“Gin and to-“
“I’ve already ordered you one.” He smirks and I hold back an eye roll. I fell right into that one. “Food?”
“No thank you.”
“Good.” He nods and falls silent; watching me like the hunter watches his prey.
The silence between the two of us wraps around me, but as it does it’s not as awkward as it could have been. It’s not forced. Nothing between us ever was. Every few moments he’ll ask another question about my life since him and get a pretty boring answer. I’m not trying to be difficult, but it’s honest. I’m simple. A lot more simple than the girl I was when we were together.
“It sounds like you’ve spent the last ten years in hiding, Sienna.” He takes a drink of his beer and his eyes don’t leave mine.
“I’m not hiding from anyone, Trigger.” I spin my glass on the table, breaking eye contact first to watch the rings of condensation swirl on the metal topped table.
“Yourself, Sienna. Why are you hiding from yourself?” He’s not smiling. He’s not frowning. He’s just watching. Just like he always did.
“I’m not hiding from myself.” My arms wrap around my midsection and a tingle goes up my spine. “You know nothing about me anymore, Trigger. Don’t pretend to know who I am.”
A low chuckle comes out of him and he slowly nods, leaning forward on the table. His voice is low. His eyes dark.
“I know enough about you to know you’ve still got a dark side that isn’t being properly taken care of.”
My cheeks redden.
My heart rate spikes.
And my pussy pulses.
“Trig-“
“I know you’re not here because you felt like catching up with an old friend.” He stands, dropping a hundred on the table for our two drinks. “And I know you’re going to follow me out the front door.” He leans down, smelling absolutely perfect. “I also know your pussy is soaked and your nipples are hard as fuck at the thought of having one more time with me.” He stands and walks away, leaving me feeling cold, confused, and turned on.
And alone.
Go home, Sienna. Go back to your boring apartment. With your asshole cat. And text your fiancé who you were perfectly okay with before today.
Go.
Home.
But my feet don’t take me there.
My feet bring me out the front door and right in front of a smug, confident Trigger waiting next to a black luxury car with pitch black windows.
“Good girl,” he says, then clicks a button in his hand and the car starts. “Get in.” He opens the back door and my eyebrow quirks.
“You have a driver?” I step towards the car, something in the back of my head screaming at me that this is a bad idea but my heart’s pulling me in a dangerous direction.
“No.” He says, then watches me slip into the car before slamming the door.
“What the?” I try to open the door but it’s locked from the inside. “Trigger!” I bang on the windows that are tinted so dark I can’t see out of them. The driver side door opens and I lunge toward him, pissed he locked me back here, but it’s then that I realize the back seat is portioned from the front with a glass barrier. “What the fuck are you doing!?”
He turns in his seat and grins at me, so full of evil I’m almost scared of the man. Almost.
There’s a hint of something else there, though. Regret maybe? Or maybe that’s just what I want it to be. Whatever it is, it’s not malice that’s made him do this. And this isn’t a random act. He planned this.
He planned the whole evening.
“I’m reminding you of what you need.” He revs the engine and takes off.
I’m pissed he pulled this but I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t a bit intrigued.
And slightly turned on.
When Trigger’s dominant side comes out, there’s no stopping him. And if there’s one thing I’ve been missing these past ten years it’s that. The dominance. The being taken care of without having to tell someone that they’re in the right spot or not.
The car speeds down the road, turning every now and then, but I can’t tell where we’re going, The windows are dark and it’s too late at night to be able to look through the front and see where we are.
Strangely enough, I’m not scared. This is a game he’s playing and it’s working.
Because as I sit in the back seat, silence filling the car, I find myself staring at him. At his facial features, his forearms, and picturing what it would be like if I let him take me where I need to go tonight. While my brain is screaming at me that this is a terrible idea, my body’s reacting exactly how it knows how to. Buzzing with energy, pent up from years of ignoring what it needed.
Years of hiding.
My mind wanders the rest of the drive and I’m so out of my element that I don’t even realize when the car stops.
“Put this on.” He pushes a blindfold through a small hole in the glass and I glare at it.
“You want me to blindfold myself?”
He spins and glares at me.
“Do as I say, Sienna. Stop fighting this.”
“I’m not fighting!” I bark. “I’m confused!”
“Trust me.”
He looks straight into my soul, holding the blindfold and expecting me to take it.
I’ve learned to be strong because I had to. Because I was crumbling on the inside and didn’t want people to know. I’ve taught myself to fight back, about everything, because control was something I needed when I lost him. Never did I want to let someone have control over me like he had….and yet…this feels like we never broke up. The way he’s looking at me is the same way he used to look at me. Like he knows what I need, even if I don’t. Like he’d do anything to give me what my body craved.
Like he loved me. And it hurt.
I slowly finish slipping the blindfold through to my side and with one final steeled look at him, tie it around my face, blacking out my vision, then relax back into the seat.
It’s silent and time seems to stand still. I don’t know if he’s looking at me, but I feel like he is. The silence stretches on for god knows how long, which I’m sure is part of his game. He knows how I feel about the loss of sight.
I jump when my door opens and his hand wraps around my arm.
“Just me,” he whispers, helping me out of the car. My skin’s on fire, hyper aware of everything touching it, which is making my arm feel like it’s on fire from his gentle yet domineering touch. A type of touch I never experienced before Trigger and one I’ve strayed from since. One that tells me it’s okay to let go.
Unfortunately, Trigger’s the one that also taught me it’s not okay to let go. And yet, I’m not fighting him right now as he leads me to the unknown.
I follow him closely, taking cautious steps and stopping when he does. I hear a code being punched in, five tiny beeps, then locks turn and he pulls me through a doorway. When the door slams behind us I jump, because it doesn’t sound like a cozy apartment. It echoes. This place is warm. And even though I can’t see it, it sounds huge somehow.
I shiver, but it’s not from the temperature. It’s because I feel him step away from me and suddenly the nerves are starting to roll through my body. If I’m right and this isn’t an apartment…
Where the hell am I?
And what the fuck does he plan on doing?
“The safe word, Sienna.” His voice is low and my breath comes out in a quick, raspy, immediate answer. Programmed, not thought about.
“Snowflake.”
Chapter 6
Trigger
I haven’t felt this type of attraction to a woman in years. A silent and deadly pull that makes a man do crazy things. Crazy, like practically kidnapping your ex and locking her in your sex dungeon to show her what the last ten years have felt like without her.
To make her hurt more than she’s experienced.
And ultimately…to win her back.
Twisted, right?
I stand in the dimly lit room, watching her. She’s frozen, but I don’t think it’s from fear. I hope it’s not fear. I hope she realizes I wouldn’t ever put her in real danger.
Pain yes, but only the type she likes.
Situations that’ll piss her off? Absolutely, because when she’s pissed the fucking is that much better.
But I’d never put her in danger that would legitimately hurt her.
I don’t say a word as I check the locks and alarm systems, leaving her standing just inside the doorway. This wasn’t the plan tonight. The plan was talk to her, get to know what it’ll take to get her back in my life, and maybe a little fucking. The type she’s used to.
And in all honesty, I didn’t expect the girl to show up. I had dreams of what I’d do to her if she did, but there was something in the back of my head that told me she wasn’t going to show and I was prepared for it. More than prepared, I expected it. She hates me. Rightfully so. But something snapped when she actually showed up. And she didn’t just show up…she came for me. The dress. The flowing hair. The color in her cheeks. Yeah, something snapped alright.
My control.
And now here we are, and I’m not letting her go.
Not until we get one thing straight.
“You belong to me,” I growl, snapping the whip and making her jump. But she doesn’t say anything. Her nostrils flare and her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink. Her nipples tighten under the dress she wore for me and her breath is deep and heavy. “Sienna.” Fuck, her name feels right.
I smooth my hands over her bare skin, then to the back of her dress, unzipping it slowly. It falls to the floor and I hold her elbow as she steps out of it. Any reason to get my hands on her at this point is good enough for me. We’ll get to the best part of this, but I need to make sure her head’s in the game.
“When does the blindfold come off?” Her tone is soft but there’s a tint of annoyance there which makes me chuckle.
“It doesn’t.” I don’t want her seeing this place. I don’t want to scare her off. She’s been living her life vanilla and boring for ten years. She probably forgot what half the shit here is. To an outsider, this room looks like a torture place instead of a room full of pleasure.
I walk around her, my dick straining at my pants. I adjust it, gritting my teeth because just touching myself around her makes me want to lose every ounce of control I’m going to need.
“Knees.” The demand feels good coming out. It’s a role I haven’t been able to fully get into since Sienna, but it feels like I’ve been doing it all my life.
The girls I’ve brought back here haven’t been subs. They’ve been toys. Fun to fuck with, yet not what I’ve craved. I haven’t let myself have what I’ve craved.
But now, as I watch her slowly lower herself to her knees, blindfolded and yet full of trust, all fucking bets are off.
I walk around her, trailing the whip over her skin, and stop at her back. She’s still perfect. Cream skin. Soft and smooth.
I crouch, dropping the whip to the floor. My fingers stroke down her arms, raising tiny bumps in their wake and when she moans I lose my mind.
“Where’s the poor sap tonight, Sienna?” I whisper in her ear, pushing my lips slowly to her neck before pulling back.
“I don’t know,” she answers breathlessly. Her head slowly tilts to the side, her hands clasped in her lap, and her tits rise and fall with the heavy breaths she’s sucking in.
“Don’t know, or don’t care?” I glance down at her left hand and there’s not a ring where the large diamond was sitting earlier today.
“On a plane somewhere, going across the world. Again.”
I growl.
“He leaves you alone a lot?” I pick up the whip and flip it around, trailing the tight end down her spine. She sits up straighter, her neck still open for me, silently begging for another touch.
“Yes, Sir,” she whispers and I shoot to my feet. That word. Sir.
“When is he due home?” The last thing I need is her soon to be ex fiancé filing a missing person report on her.
“A couple weeks.” She breathes heavy, her tone full of confusion, lust, and need.
“Good. Stand.” I demand. I could help her, but I don’t. I watch her struggle to stand with dignity when she can’t see, and bite my lip trying not to growl that she’s taking too long. “Lose the panties. You’re not going to need them.”
Her nostrils flare and her eyebrows dip under the blindfold.
And she doesn’t move. Her hands are fisted at her sides and I smirk.
I’m finally getting that side of her I enjoyed fucking with so much.
“I’m engaged.”
“You’re adorable when you’re trying to fight what you want.” I step around her, cupping her sex in my hand and making her gasp. Leaning in, my mouth goes to her ear. “Your panties are soaked through,” I whisper. “But tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll let you go right now,” I lie. I’m not letting her go.
I rub softly, giving her the pressure she’s dying for and she moans then grinds onto my palm.
“Trigger,” comes falling from her lips and I crash mine to hers, breaking my rules for the one thing I’ve been craving.
Her arms wrap around me and yet as much as I want to yank the rest of our layers off and fuck her against the wall, I have better plans for us tonight.
I pull back, steadying her and sucking in a deep breath. My dick’s so hard it hurts and pulling my hand out from between her legs was probably the hardest thing I’ve done since walking away from her.
I don’t say anything. I can’t. Because as I’m trying to gain control over myself again…she starts undressing.
The panties hit the floor.
Her bra is next.
And when she’s naked in front of me, she doesn’t hide. She doesn’t wrap her arms around herself like the other girls.
Her hands fall to her side, gently and not fisted, and she takes a deep breath, raising her chin as to meet my gaze.
“I trust you.”
***
“I don’t know about this, Trigger.” Sienna’s attached to my arm, following me through the top floor of the club. I just met the girl two weeks ago but every weekend since she first walked in the front doors of Sphere, she’s broken every fucking wall down that I’ve carefully constructed over the years.
“It’s a safe place, Sienna.” I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it, a move that used to mean nothing to me, but seeing how she responds to it I’ve changed my mind. “Look.” I point across the room to a stage where a woman is strapped to a table, turned upside down, and being treated like a fucking goddess. “Does she look like she’s in pain?”
I look down at Sienna, watching her facial expression as she takes in the scene. It’s not every day a newbie rides the elevator to the top floor. This level is for the most experienced in this realm. People who’ve trained for it and prepared themselves. I fucking brought a vanilla upstairs because I’m twisted.
But mostly because I know she’ll be amazing on that stage with the way she responds to me.
“She looks at peace,” she whispers, taking a step closer to the viewing area for this particular stage. “She looks like she’s in heaven.”
“It’s trust,” I whisper in her ear, pushing her hair aside and nibbling on her ear. “She trusts her Dom. And the people viewing. She trusts in herself enough to know she can let go and enjoy this as it should be enjoyed without worrying about body image or anyone else around.”
Sienna nods then looks up at me.
“And you want me to do this?” her eyes, always so expressive, are full of self doubt, but not fear. Not worry.
“I think you’d be the best this place has ever seen.” I push my lips to hers. “But only when you tell me you’re ready.”
“I want to,” she says. “I want to be ready.”
I fight back a smirk. My damn girl.
“I know,” I growl, turning her and pulling her back against me as we watch the Dom on the stage bring his sub to the edge of complete bliss. My hand snakes down Sienna’s stomach, under the black leather panties she’s wearing, and moves straight for her pussy. “So tonight we start slow. And we’ll work up to that.” I bite onto her neck when I sink my fingers inside of her.
