Page 14 of First Time

I answered questions and offered suggestions for the attendees lingering around to come back the following Friday for Master Lamond’s second class Chantelle had told me about. Too soon, the other members moved off, leaving me alone with Dom Wannabe.

At least my anger had dissolved into an annoying buzzing in my gut rather than a voracious hunger to break his face.

“My Becky was lovely tonight,” Stephen said once I finally turned and gave him my full attention.

Of course, he used a possessive in front of her name.

“She was.” I kept my tone neutral and reached for one of the coils of rope on the floor to keep my hands busy in an unharmful way. “She’s a natural submissive. You’re lucky to have her.” Both statements were true, but I couldn’t say the same about his ability as a Dom or her in landing the piece of shit she’d shown up with tonight.

They might not have been married, but it had been obvious by their interactions in the lounge and her concern for Stephen’s insecurities over her being aroused by my ropes that they had been together for some time. Long enough that she remained off-limits no matter how badly I wanted to bind her up and send her soaring for real.

“No one else wanted her, so she was an easy catch.” The sneer in Stephen’s voice roused my anger.

“How long have you been together?” I forced myself to keep with the pleasantries rather than telling him to fuck off.

“Twelve years. We met our freshman year in high school.”

“That’s quite some time,” I muttered, wrapping the rope and imagining it around Stephen’s throat—tight enough he couldn’t breathe.

“Yeah, we’ve been through a lot.” He straightened his shoulders, thin lips twisting into a fake-ass smile. “She’s a great slave, and the scenes I have of her on video...” He shook his head, gaze flitting to the bathroom door she had disappeared behind minutes earlier. “Becky holds nothing back. She’s a vocal whore without the fake tears and laughable moans of real porn stars. We have over two thousand subscribers. You ought to check out my work sometime,” he stated, as though 2k was something worth bragging over. He handed a card to me, and I told myself I only accepted it to get him to shut up and walk away before I beat his ass to a bloody pulp.

Fuck, I hated how he brought my violent side roaring to life.

“Ah, there’s my Becky.” A smile lifted his lips, but his expression held no love for the woman he called his.

Why the hell did he stay with her if—according to his bitching earlier—she didn’t get turned on when sceneing with him? Why bind a sub to your side if you didn’t connect with them?

Scowling, I glanced at Becky as she walked toward us, hands clasped and head down, hair shielding her face. At least she’d maintained some of the relaxed stance keeping her from folding in on herself like it seemed she’d wanted to do before I’d tied her to the chair.

For her sake, I hoped she had erased all evidence of her arousal from between her thighs. If Stephen had been able to see the glistening on her thickened labia like I had, breathed in the honeyed scent of her, I felt sure he would have flown into a rage and tried to kick the shit out of me.

I barely held back a snort at the thought of him attempting to punch me let alone shove my mass.

“Enjoy yourself?” Stephen asked, clicking the leash back onto her collar.

“I suppose, Sir,” she said with a trace of shakiness to her voice.

“Did Master Cooney’s ropes get you all hot and bothered?” Stephen’s tone hinted at threatening consequences if she said yes.

“Um…no?” she whispered as though picking up on what I had. Any good Dom would know she lied by the flinch and cower that tucked her body in on itself once more.

Not Stephen. He scowled as though disappointed by her answer when it had sounded like a negative was what he’d wanted to hear.

The asshole gave off vibes that caused serious brain whiplash.

“The fuck, Becky?” He turned and started stalking off, dragging her along behind him. “Not even getting tied up by a shibari master was enough to get your cunt juices flowing? There’s seriously something wrong with you.”

I saw red. Wanted to choke the life out of Stephen Wannabe Dom, Fuck-Face-Magee with my bare hands. Lusted to watch the light in his eyes dissipate until his soul fled to hell where it belonged. Motherfucker didn’t realize—or just didn’t give a shit—that his words hurt his woman worse than fists.

Becky followed along after him like a browbeaten dog, and I could only imagine the humiliation she must feel from the shit pouring from his lips.

The room cleared, and I threw the bundled ropes into the bin on the dais. I needed to stay and finish cleaning up, but couldn’t. My feet turned toward the exit, and I hurried up the quiet hallway to the lounge.

Teeth gritted, I scanned the crowd, catching sight of Stephen and Becky. They weren’t headed toward the locker rooms and exit as I’d expected.

I ordered a tonic and lime since there was no alcohol served at the bar and stood against a wall, acting the part of a bouncer like I oftentimes did when no one of interest caught my eye.

But someone definitely had—I just needed to keep back and watch over her from afar for as long as I could to make sure no shit went down with Stephen.

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