Raw Ch 09

I had become a seasoned traveler over the course of my writing career.

I'd experienced turbulence to the extreme that I swore we were going to fall out of the sky. Witnessed a first-class business man who'd had too much champagne get handcuffed to his seat after he kept groping the female flight attendant every time she passed by. Gripped the arms of my seat until my knuckles were white as another man wielded his plastic knife from dinner after they'd denied him a second helping. An air marshal happened to be on the flight and threatened him with a gun until he could handcuff the troublesome guest to his seat. Then there was the woman who tried sneaking a cigarette in the bathroom and there was so much smoke, we thought the plane was on fire.

Yet I had never been as shaken as I was on that flight from New York to Ontario, and it had nothing to do with the plane.

I struggled with wanting to tell Malcolm about my own experience with Juliet. I gathered that he did not know of her current partnership with Jesse. The fact that Jesse had dropped Malcolm's name in front of Juliet at the party—and the way she had given me the once-over—told me that it was no secret between them about her previous involvement with my fiancé.

What irked me was that Jesse had not seen it necessary to tell his buddy he was now shacking up with the former dominatrix. Or maybe she was a switch now, since Jesse had said she was his slave. Did one so easily give up their former life completely? Malcolm had said his lady friend had stopped working at the strip club. Maybe she'd changed her role as well.

However, the flight did not allow for a conversation of that magnitude. And I did not want to cause a rift between us after we'd already repaired the fences once today. It wasn't important that I share that news immediately or even this weekend. However, I had another pressing question to ask.

"So, how did you manage to arrange this trip?" I leaned against his shoulder as he laid his arm around mine. "You've been on sabbatical. They couldn't have let you take a day off already."

"No school Monday. Martin Luther King's birthday."

"But it's Thursday."

"I called the school and said it was a family emergency. It will be a non-productive day tomorrow anyway. The day before a three-day weekend? The kids' brains are all mush. They'll be thrilled to have a substitute who will show them a movie."

"You're such a liar. You don't have any family, remember?"

He tilted my chin up and kissed my lips. "I have you."

"I am not an emergency."

"I have a doctor's note that says otherwise."

"That you do." I yawned. "I was going to suggest we put another notch on our Mile High Club membership card, Canadian-style, but—"

"Sleep, Becca. You've had a long day. There will be plenty of time for play this weekend."

I dozed as instructed and woke only when touched down on the other side of the border. We retrieved our single piece of luggage and procured a cab to the hotel where the conference and exhibition were being held. I asked how he'd been able to get a room at such late notice, and he just said he had connections. Of course he did.

There were several people milling about the lobby of the hotel despite the late hour. Ordinary people. What had I expected? A bunch of half-naked men with floggers in their back pockets and women in leather corsets and garter belts twirling riding crops? I tried not to snort as I stifled my laugh while Malcolm checked us in.

The lady at the front desk said that the hotel was completely full with several events this weekend, so there may be some delay if we called housekeeping or room service. She asked us for our patience when using the restaurant, pool, and gym facilities, as well. Her eyes lit up when she added that the most popular event seemed to be the Velvet Curtain or something glamorous like that. They'd reserved four whole floors in the south wing in addition to the main ballroom. She wondered aloud if it was like Comic Con but for Hollywood movies instead. We just smiled politely and thanked her for the advice, but we let out a good laugh in the elevator.

Our room was on the twentieth floor, right above the hall where our conference was to begin in the morning according to a handwritten directory by the elevator bays. We had to go down two halls before we got to the one where our room was located. Every room we passed had a do-not-disturb sign hung on the door, indicating that we were one of the last to arrive.

Malcolm opened the door and flipped on the lights before he let me enter.

"That is a Jacuzzi," I said, pointing as I flung my winter coat on the foot of the king-sized bed.

"You're very observant, my dear." He hung up his coat and proceeded to do the same with mine.

"There is no way in hell that you just happened to get a room with a hot tub at the last minute." I poked my finger against his chest. "Or got tickets to a sold-out convention in a no-vacancy hotel."

He raised my finger to his lips where he kissed the tip. "There is if you know a good friend who was willing to give up their room and tickets."

I just blinked at him.

"Why do you still have such little faith in me after all of this time?"

I opened my mouth to object, but he dropped my hand to press his finger to my lips, shushing me.

"Becca, you will learn that a whole other world exists inside the one you know. A world where people do not act or say things like you would expect. Even after a short time, they can be a greater friend than someone you've known your entire life out in the vanilla world. What you have experienced so far? It has been but a glimpse of that world. This weekend will open your eyes. But you need to remember that success there relies upon one thing. The most important thing. Absolute trust."

I don't know why, but I took a step away from him.

"I know you have very valid reasons to not trust someone completely. I don't say this to scare you. I say this to prepare you."

I think I nodded. I know I took another step back, and this time he followed.

"There is so much I want to show you."

Another step, and now I was breathing harder.

"So much I want you to see."

I gulped as I saw his eyes darken.

"Do not be afraid."

"I'm not." The words came out as a breathy whisper. I don't even know if he had heard me. Or if they had merely been in my head.

"Stop, Lady Becca."

I suddenly froze, my inhale cut short.

I felt him pulling my sweater up, my arms rising as he lifted the material past my face and over my head. My arms fell back to my sides like weights. My bra went slack. It fell to my feet. My jeans grew looser around the waist and then dropped to my ankles. My panties followed shortly thereafter. I remained unmoving throughout.

I stared straight across the room at the large mirror on the wall. The glass reflected my naked body. It also showed Malcolm's fully clothed one as he stepped around me and filled the hot tub.

In the looking glass, he turned to face my back, his position behind me but to the side so that I could see him full-on. His eyes met mine in our reflection. My gaze lingered but shifted to his body as I saw his hands rise in my peripheral vision.

I watched him unbutton his shirt and shrug it off his shoulders. Unbuckle his belt and lower his zipper. Slide his jeans down and step out of them. Repeat the motions as he removed his boxer briefs. His cock sprang to attention, the head shiny with his precum. My knees wobbled but did not give out on me, but I wasn't so strong to hold back a whimper.

For the longest moment, he stood as naked as I did; the only sound my ragged breathing and the rush of the water filling the tub. My fingers twitched, but I resisted the urge to cup my heavy breasts. To caress my nipples. To slide my fingers further south and ease the ache that seemed to have begun the minute we'd stepped off the plane.

He turned to shut off the tap, treating me to the wonderful backside view of my fiancé. Such a glorious ass. I licked and then bit my lip. How had I gotten so lucky?

Our eyes met again in the mirror, and he lifted his hand, palm up. I turned and took it, allowing him to assist me over the edge of the tub. I moaned as my feet and then my calves sunk into the heat. The water sloshed around my legs as he joined me.

Malcolm sat down on the little seat at one end. My hand still in his, I made my way toward him. When I was standing between his parted legs, he released his grip and dipped both of his hands into the water. The wet heat trickled down my thighs as he drew his hands up across my skin. They stopped at my waist, his thumbs caressing the skin over my hipbones for a moment before he tugged me closer.

I stared down at him through the valley of my breasts as he leaned his forehead against my body. Should—or rather could—I put my hands on his shoulders? On his head? But my thoughts escaped me as I felt his tongue licking my belly. His hot breath competed with the water lapping around and through my legs now. Every few seconds it splashed up against my pussy like a fairy's teasing kiss.

His hands slid around and cupped my ass. Massaged there. I gripped his shoulders out of instinct as I almost lost my balance. His head tilted back, and his dark eyes met mine. I was no longer startled when they were that deep. I did trust him implicitly. He would not hurt me. He wanted to bring me pleasure.

Rather than a lack of trust, an abundance of awe made me question his abilities. The longer I was with him, the more he revealed his true self. And it was in no way the shock or disappointment I'd felt when the same had happened with my brother. But now was not the time to think of Drake.

I wanted so badly to lean down and kiss Malcolm, my other half. But I refrained. Instead, I cradled his head in my hands, my fingers lacing through his damp hair. His pressure on my hips indicated I should step back. When he opened his knees, I straddled his legs. I felt one hand slide between my thighs under the water and rub my pussy a couple of times. Then his cock was rubbing there.

His head still in my hands, our eyes still locked together, I gasped as he guided me down with one hand while his other hand helped his cock slid into me. Now I was feeling the heat within, too. A thick heat that slowly filled me up.

I broke our lovers' gaze and closed my eyes. My hands gripped his shoulders as he guided my hips up and down. Hot waves splashed against my lower back as I rode him. His mouth latched onto my nipple, and I cried out as his teeth nipped.

After I had achieved a ripple of small orgasms, he had me turn around. He leaned back against the edge of the tub, and I leaned against him, my neck nestled against his arm so I was staring at the ceiling. My feet found purchase on the side of the seat, and our joined pelvises rose and fell above the water as we rocked back and forth. The coolness of the air-conditioning competed with the bursts of wet heat that our movements sent up against my belly and between my back and his chest.

His hand caressed my upper body while he kissed me. Our tongues twirled together in their own seductive dance. My ass rubbed against his pelvis as his cock withdrew and re-sheathed itself. I was begging for more in my head but only letting soft whimpers escape for him to hear.

As if knowing I was on the precipice, he abandoned my breast and focused on rubbing my clit. I clenched my eyes and arched my body, trying to get his cock to slide deeper into me. My gasps became more audible as the web within spun tighter and tighter.

"Look at me, Lady Becca." His growl made me open my eyes and roll my head towards his. "Do not come until I tell you to."

Somehow, I was able to whisper, "Yes, Sir."

He kept fucking me so long I swore the water was going to grow cold. But just when I thought it would never end—that I would lose the edge—I heard him say those four blessed words.

"Come for me, now."

And I did.

I screamed. I thrashed. He continued to thrust into me from beneath me until I felt his rumble of a cry as he found release as well. We slipped off the seat and sunk deeper into the water. His arms surrounded me, holding me against him as the warmth of the water enveloped my chilled body.

It wasn't until we were climbing out that I saw the water all over the tile wall and floor. "We'll have to sacrifice a precious towel to clean that up."

"It was for a worthy cause." He grinned at me as he dried me off while I combed my fingers through my already-drying strands of hair. I would need a shower in the morning to untangle the mess.

"That it was." I yawned and smiled sleepily up at him as I sank into the softest bed I'd ever laid in at a hotel. As stressful as the day had been, I hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time. A very long time.

###

For about the tenth time since we'd left our room, Malcolm reminded me not to leave his side and that I was about to see some things I'd probably never even imagined existed. He asked that I observe with an open mind and let him know if anything sparked my interest. I promised him I could do that. However, he might regret also having given me the option to ask questions.

I thought it was adorable that he was practically flipping out to make sure I wouldn't flip out.

"The convention did start today, right?"

The hall and the elevator were as empty as they'd been when we'd arrived last night. I'd have wondered if we had the right hotel if not for the directional signs to the ballroom at the elevator bay. I looked out the glass back of the elevator car, relieved to see the atrium of the hotel was bustling with breakfast patrons as well as arriving and departing guests.

"Yes. Everyone is probably already down there. We are running a little later than I had planned, but you needed the rest."

"Thank you. I did sleep quite well." Thanks to that wonderful round of hot tub sex. I smiled wider when he took my hand in his and squeezed it. Before the doors slid open, he moved my hand to his elbow.

"In general, there is no required time to be there. It's come-and-go as you please. However, there are demonstrations, which are insightful, and they are on a set schedule."

Malcolm stopped by a table draped in black outside of what I assumed was the ballroom. Two identical women in white blouses and dark, fitted business jackets saw behind the table. The only thing that set them apart from appearing like they were checking us into a class reunion were the streaks of matching bright-red and bright-blue in their jet-black hair that had been pulled back into buns so that the streaks created a colorful swirl.

"Malcolm McClaren and guest," he said to the first woman. Her badge said her name was Jade. She flipped through a clipboard a couple of times before Malcolm added, "I'm sorry. It should be under Jesse Pratt. He transferred his registration to me at the last minute yesterday. I believe he called someone?"

"Ah, yes, I see the note." Jade slid two half sheets of paper in front of us as well as two pens. "Please sign these consent forms."

Although I took up a pen, I stared dumbfounded at the table. Jesse? He was the one who had given up his tickets and hotel room?

"Sign, Becca," Malcolm said, tapping my paper with the end of his pen.

I blinked away my surprise and obeyed. I hadn't had even read what I'd agreed to before the paper was pulled away and I was handed a lanyard with a plastic sleeve at the end that held a card with our names handwritten on it. Or rather, Malcolm's name "and guest" on both of them.

We were then directed to continue down the table where Jade's twin, Ebony, gave us a map. She pointed out where the various vendors were located, and then she traced a path with her finger to show where to go for the art exhibit that would open that evening. They were discussing the schedule of the various demonstrations when I tuned them out.

There was a laminated half-sheet of paper next to the stack of maps. The line at the top in bold, red print stated that it was the Rules of Etiquette. Which was hilarious because there was only one rule. It said to not wear any item or exhibit any behavior of kink outside of the ballroom and conference areas or the guests' private rooms. The italicized line below it made it clear that failure to follow the single rule would ban the attendee from any further activity with the current event. Two infractions would result in a permanent ban from any future event hosted by the company.

Malcolm finished his conversation and led me to a set of double-doors. "Becca, are you ready?"

I took a deep breath and nodded, but inside, my body was shaking. It was partly fear but mostly excitement. I think.

To my surprise, we walked into a curtained area lit by a small lamp on a table next to where yet another woman sat. She, too, was dressed in a dark pantsuit. Her blonde hair lacked any vibrant additions, although it too was in a bun. She stood as we approached and checked the cards on our lanyards before she pulled aside a curtain.

"What, no colored bracelets," I mumbled as we passed through into the Land of Kink.

"Those are only for places where play is invited," Malcolm whispered in my ear.

I nodded although my brain was trying to scope out the room as we entered the hall at last. I wanted to stop and process it all, but my feet kept moving since my hand was holding the curve of Malcolm's arm again and he continued walking. He seemed intent on his path. I realized my jaw had dropped along the way, so I closed my mouth and tried to take in everything all at once without getting a migraine. If I had information overload, was there a safe word, or did I need to find the Wizard of Kink to get out of here?

I had been to book and writing conventions. And I'd seen technology and Comic Con conventions on TV and in movies from an aerial view. I'd expected a sea of people milling about a seemingly unending maze of booths, especially with a cacophony of voices trying to talk over each other. My expectations were right on point for once. However, I had not imagined the massive amounts of ropes, chains, leather, and other materials one would use for bondage. Nor the fact that everyone was dressed normal. Besides the products on display, the only thing out of the ordinary was that the room could be confused for a Gothic convention with all the black everyone was wearing.

We stopped at the first booth along the farthest wall. I anticipated that we were going to walk the perimeter and then wind our way into the center of the displays. Or maybe we would weave our way up and down. I really did feel like a mouse set free in a maze with bits of cheese along the way, not just at the exit. It actually gave me a slight headache.

"Why are there so many booths just for ropes?"

"A lot of people make their own, and they use textiles with specific fibers. So one vendor may have hemp rope while another prefers jute, cotton, or nylon. Different vendors charge different prices depending on their product. Most just have samples here, and they'll ship your order home so you don't have to worry about security or customs at the airports."

I studied at least two dozen, foot-long sections of rope hanging from a rod suspended across the front of the booth. They looked like candy canes with two colors combined in a spiral. The samples varied in thickness as well as color and texture.

Malcolm was running his hand over a strand of red and black.

"Does the color make a difference?" I said.

"It's more for artistic bondage. Shibari is probably the most common. You'll see a lot of it in the art exhibit. Any good rope will do for just binding someone. But the colored ropes—especially the bi-colored ones—are used to make designs on the body or make it look more interesting."