Club Refuge

Rackham’s Roost

Opening Night

Ben had never thought he’d be nervous. It just wasn’t something he ever was. He anticipated things, but nothing ever really rattled him. After all, he had a beautiful wife and sub, a magick sword, and he could slay dragons—although he wouldn’t mind a break from the last one.

He’d wanted to collar Paige at a ceremony on their opening night, but she hadn’t wanted to wait to be collared, and in all honesty, he’d wanted to collar her from the first time he laid eyes on her. The trip that afternoon had been fruitful. Paige would have accepted any collar he gave her, but he’d wanted something exquisite. In the end, he’d collared her with an exquisite concoction of strands of platinum, seed pearls, diamonds, and rubies, twisted and woven together to make a jeweled rope of sorts. He’d placed it around her throat one night after he’d had his way with her out on the balcony of Gabe and Anne’s place.

Paige had been fascinated with shibari and suspension ever since they’d watched a scene at the club in Charlotte while waiting for the renovations on the smuggler’s warehouse that had created Club Refuge. Once word had begun to spread through the lifestyle community about a new exclusive club on the Outer Banks, they had been inundated with applications for membership. Not many people made it through the screening process.

The club could boast two true shibari masters—Tristan and himself. Both intended to show off their skills this night.

“For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Bennett Greyson and this lovely creature beside me is my wife and submissive, Paige. Paige is relatively new to our lifestyle but has embraced it completely, haven’t you sweetheart?”

“All except the whole if I don’t follow the rules, I get my ass spanked.”

Those gathered around laughed quietly.

“There’s an easy way to avoid that. Don’t follow your ringleader, Anne, into all kinds of mischief.”

Again, more laughter.

“Let’s get you ready to fly,” he said, unlacing her corset and helping her out of it and the micro-mini he’d chosen for her to wear.

The corset was an amazing creation of satin and lace, done by a skilled corsetiere in London when they’d flown over for an overdue honeymoon. At the time of their marriage, Paige had been under suspicion for a crime she not only hadn’t committed, but one in which she’d played a large part in solving.

Ben began running the specially made silk ropes through his hand, warming them and ensuring they were soft and pliable. He’d picked red to match the rubies in her collar and on her wedding ring. He was looking forward to tonight. He would bind and suspend her and then when he brought her down, he’d remove the ropes leaving an intricate pattern on her body for all to see as she sat at his feet up in the lounge.

“Ready?” he asked, kissing her when she nodded. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Master.” The honorarium flowed smoothly from her lips.

He stood facing her and began to work on binding her breasts, wrapping the silken cord around each of them to make them stand up and out, making sure her nipples were trapped within the binding. Ben had discovered Paige’s nipples were extraordinarily sensitive and he now had an extravagant collection of nipple clamps he liked to use on her.

Ben began to tie the elaborate and beautiful tortoise shell pattern. It was not only lovely to look at as she was bound by it, but it left the most intricate pattern on her skin and would allow her weight to be evenly distributed when he suspended her, making the suspension a sensual exercise in freefall. He would create a trapezoid from which to suspend her, face up. He wanted to be able to watch her face as well as her body to monitor how she was doing when she zoned out.

Once he had her securely bound, he began attaching the actual ropes by which he would lift her into the air. Ben began drawing on the rope, lifting her until she was perfectly horizontal. At first only a foot or so off the ground, allowing Paige to settle into a comfortable position and allowing her to get used to the idea of weightlessness.

As he began to pull on the ropes and she rose higher and higher, he watched her body to ensure there was no tension and smiled as she began to drift into subspace, becoming soft and languid, trusting him to keep her safe. They had talked about whether she wanted to have sex on the main stage and she had admitted that she found the idea intriguing. He already knew she found bondage and suspension arousing and had given Ford instructions to ensure they had hard points in the ceiling of their bedroom, playroom, and covered balcony up at the farm.

Ben drew her up until she was at the perfect height for him to shove his excruciatingly hard cock into her soft, wet heat and bring them both to orgasm. It was when she was like this—soft, open, vulnerable, and placing her absolute trust in him, that he felt more like a Dom than at any other time.

He knew some Doms liked to swing their sub in a kind of rocking motion that most found either completely relaxing or totally exhilarating. Others liked to spin them around, making them dizzy, but he liked to just let her float free in order to focus on and enjoy the way his ropes bound her in a physical manifestation of the figurative way he had bound her to him.

Ben traced the silken bonds with his fingers, watching as her body quivered in response. Her arousal was increasing, and she moaned both in need and a bit of discomfort as her nipples tried to push free. He covered her breasts with his hand, squeezing and kneading gently, but never touching the overly sensitized centers. He kissed her shoulder before pressing his lips to hers in a lingering kiss before moving to stand between her spread legs. Her pussy glistened in the low light, causing lust to surge through his system as he moved into top space.

Mindful of their audience, but not wanting to lessen his connection to her, he whispered, “Shall I make you mine? Do you want to show them your true beauty as you come for me?”

“Yes, Master. Please,” she sighed.

Ben opened the fly of his leathers, releasing his cock that sprang free and pointed at its intended target like the needle on a compass pointing at true north. His cock was weeping precum and he knew it wouldn’t take much to send either of them over the edge. Grasping her thighs in his hands, he stepped closer and then thrust into her powerfully, impaling her on his rigid shaft and watching as her body bowed and convulsed in an explosive orgasm that made her cry out.

God, yes. She was exquisite. And she was his.

He began pounding into her, focusing on the way her inner walls gripped his cock and fought to keep him inside each time he drew back. Harder and faster, he plunged into her until he could feel her body anticipating another climax and he felt the familiar tingle at the base of his spine, indicating his own orgasm was near. With a final, brutal thrust, he drove his cock deep inside her, holding himself hard against her as he spent himself inside her. His cock continued to empty his seed into her as she experienced a series of mini orgasms, her pussy milking his cock, contracting all up and down his length.

Ben leaned forward and kissed the hollow of her throat. He withdrew from her gently and stuffed his cock back into his leathers. With extreme care he lowered her back into a vertical position and began untying her.

Gabe had moved up behind him and handed him one of the cashmere blankets they had imported for the club. Gabe would gather up his kit, as well as Paige’s corset and micro-mini, while Ben took Paige up to the lounge so she could drift back down to reality.

Once she was free, Ben swept her into his arms, and cradling her to his chest, left the dungeon floor and headed up to the lounge. Paige was asleep before he found a quiet, dark corner and settled her into his lap, smiling when Daphne placed two bottles of water within easy reach. He would let her sleep for a while and then wake her to get some water into her before letting her snuggle back in.

He was wrong, it wasn’t when she gave over to him and allowed him to lead her into subspace that he felt the most like a Dom. It was when she’d given him everything and he was allowed the privilege to serve and care for her, like this. He looked around the lounge and down onto the dungeon area, smiling at the atmosphere of safety and sensuality they had achieved. Even those who craved danger knew it was safe to do so at Refuge.

But for Ben his refuge wasn’t in a club or in a place at all. His solace, his sanctuary rested and abided within the woman he held in his arms.