Breath on the Wind (30 page)

Shane forced the pastor to kneel.  The man must’ve been heading deep into traumatic shock.  He’d lost all of his fight.  The small roll of razor wire that Shane pulled from a box had caused the most consternation.  Shane wrapped the vicious line of barbs around the pastor’s hands, forcing them into a pain-filed parody of prayer.  The pastor seemed almost not to notice that pain, but when Shane squirted gasoline over him, he tried to get to his feet to run. 

That was when he felt the agony of the razor wire in his hands as he struggled to gain his balance.  Before he could run, Shane fired up the blowtorch, and lit the trail of gas that he’d left on the concrete as a fuse.  The flames whooshed along in shades of yellow, white and blue.  The pastor exploded into a screaming fireball. 

Samuel allowed him to feel the pain, to know the torture, then he drew his gun, and shot the pastor in the head.  It wasn’t mercy, it was simply a necessity to prevent the flailing body from careening into anything he could set light to.  Shark pulled the small fire-extinguisher, the only item as yet unused, from the duffle, and swiftly put out the flames that were still consuming the body of the pastor.  The smell of burnt flesh was thick and sour, and Chiz knew it’d be a couple of days at least before he would be able to be around cooking meat without being reminded of this scene.

No words needed to be exchanged between the brotherhood.  They left the body of the pastor in the warehouse.  Shane carried Tricia back to the van.  They dumped her relatively close to a hospital.  She wouldn’t be able to tell anyone anything.  She hadn’t seen any faces or identifying marks.

Dawn had finished breaking by the time they arrived back in Absolution.  Exhausted, but at peace, Chiz stripped and climbed into bed next to Elmo.  She stirred slightly in her sleep, but did not wake.  Chiz pulled her close, and buried his face in the sleep-tangled mess of her hair.  The scent of her body, and the lingering fragrance of her almost too-sweet perfume, went some way to mitigate the stench of burning flesh that clung to the inside of his nostrils.

He was tired to the marrow of his bones, and initially he thought to do nothing more than close his eyes and sleep.  But he was wrapped tightly around the body of the woman that he cherished in a way he’d never thought possible.  Desire gave him a shot of energy.

Chiz tucked Elmo even more tightly into the cocoon of his body and ran his lips over her exposed shoulder.  She was so soft, so delicate, and she was his.  She murmured sleepily and shifted slightly in his embrace.  Chiz wondered whether his touch had become a dream, and he smiled to himself.  He smoothed his palm over her hip, across her belly, over her smooth, naked mound, and between her legs. 

Elmo shifted again, trying to turn onto her back, but Chiz still didn’t think she’d woken; she didn’t say anything.  Her movement had opened her thighs to him.  He took advantage of the access to cup her mound more fully in his hand.  He ran his fingers along her slit, which swiftly became wet at his touch.

“Baby, you’re home.”  Elmo’s voice was thick with slumber, and she hadn’t quite opened her eyes yet. 

Chiz figured she was maybe half awake at best.  He shifted, finally allowing her to roll onto her back, but he stayed close, and kept his hand where it was, never slowing the movement of his fingers.

“Yeah.  I‘m home, doll.”

She snuggled her face into his chest even as she spread her legs further apart.

“You’re okay?”

“Better than perfect, doll.”

He couldn’t wait any longer.  His cock had been hard since his skin had first made contact with her naked body.  He moved to lie over her and pushed into her slick pussy.  Her hot flesh enveloped him completely.  This was all the home he needed, that he would ever need.  Chiz began to move, slowly drawing almost all the way out, and inching back in by agonizingly slow degrees.  He wanted to take his time to savor the feeling of closeness, of the world being no more than the two of them in this bed at this moment.

Elmo arched, trapped between the bed and his body, and came fully awake.

“Oh.  You are home.”

“Who’d you think it was, doll?”

The deep sleep she’d waken from still hadn’t cleared completely, and Chiz smiled to see the confusion in her heavy eyes.  “You, but… oh, oh.” 

Chiz pushed ever deeper, speeding up just a little, and Elmo lost the ability to speak.  She slid her arms around him, gripping onto the muscles over his shoulders.  The sting of her nails, as she held him close while he fucked her, seemed to travel in an electrified line straight to his balls.

“That’s it, doll.  Let go.”  His own voice was gruff both with the efforts of the day and the emotion of the moment.  He fucking loved this, seeing her cede control to him, illuminated only by the soft-focus half-light of the early morning light that had crept into the room along with him.

Chiz maintained his torturously slow rhythm until Elmo was almost weeping with the intensity.  Confronted with her absolute need to come, and feeling the first deep throbs of her pussy around his cock, he couldn’t hold off any longer.  He tightened his arms around her and buried his face in the sweet, soft warmth of her neck and hair as he gave over his control to the orgasm that swept over the both like a crashing wave.

He remained for a moment, completely encompassed by her body and scent as they both caught their breath.  He moved, barely losing contact with Elmo’s body except to slip free of her, which brought an involuntary grunt of disappointment from deep in his chest.  Chiz settled onto his back, pulled Elmo to his chest, and tugged the comforter back up over them both. 

In seconds Elmo was asleep again; he could tell by the way her body relaxed completely against his, and by her deepened breathing.

Chiz felt completely at peace, both in body, and in spirit.  Knowing that there was no more perfect feeling, no better place on earth, Chiz closed his eyes, and let sleep claim him.

Epilogue

“Jesus, doll.  You look… Fuck.  You look perfect.”

Andy preened in front of the long, standing mirror for just a moment longer.  Her black dress, a slender column of fabric, floor length and long sleeved, would have looked quite ordinary, except that it hugged every curve that she had.  The modest scoop neck was offset by the complete lack of any material in the back, from the nape of her neck to just below the base of her spine.  As she was standing still, Chiz couldn’t see the new gold Louboutin Pigalles that peeked from under the hem when she walked, or the sheer, black silk stockings that covered her legs.  She’d surprise him with those details later.

Andy had invested a lot of effort into looking perfect for this night.  But when Chiz came up behind her and slipped his hands over her hips, tightening his grip until his fingers were digging almost painfully into her, she lost the ability to care about whether any stray locks were escaping from the elaborate roll that her hair had been styled in, or whether a deep and thorough kiss would smear her scarlet lipstick. 

“Thank you.”  She tipped her head back against Chiz’s shoulder, requesting a kiss, but he only nuzzled her neck.

“Nuh-huh.  You’ll be mad if I ruin your pretty.”

“No, I won’t.”

“You will be when we’re late ‘cause you had to get all done up all over again.”  He pulled her hips back against his, and she felt the unmistakable solidness of his cock against her ass.  “I’ll mess you up real good later, doll,” he murmured at her ear.  “Promise.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

It had taken the better part of half a year, but it was finally time to open her new club, the Twisty Miss.  The MC were silent partners; it was accepted that she was the head and driving force of the enterprise.  It hadn’t taken her long at all to find the perfect property.  She’d started looking right in the center of town, thinking to capitalize on the proximity of any existing nightlife.  It had been Crash who had shown her the half-derelict warehouse, just inside the town limits, a short drive from the highway.  The owner, struggling to pay off some business loans, had been only too happy to make a quick sale.

It was only a shell of a building, but it was solid, and the location was perfect.  As far as the strip club aspect of the business was concerned, Andy had added a small restaurant to the plans for the refurbishment.  The success of the strip club was resting largely on it being an event destination, a place that people visited to see something extraordinary.  It made sense to offer them a full night’s worth of entertainment, from the food to the show.  As far as the other side of the business was concerned, any clients visiting the dungeon would be glad of the privacy. 

Early rumors suggested that the months of hard work, stress, and avid attention to the fine details was likely to pay off.  She’d done as much as she could.  The success of the club rested now on the reputation that it built after opening. 

Andy smiled at their reflections in the mirror.  “Igot you a present.”

Chiz’s reflection showed consternation.  “You got me a present?  On your big night?  Shit.  Shouldn’t that’ve been the other way around?”

Andy laughed at Chiz’s sudden uncomfortable embarrassment.  “No.  You gave me the club, and a home.  I think that’ll do.”  While she’d been working on building the club, Chiz had taken the list of houses that she’d been making and had found them a home.  She’d barely had to lift a finger for any of the arrangements that had resulted in the move from the apartment she’d first rented to the refurbished Victorian-era house that they now shared.

“Still…”

“Hush.”  She patted the tops of his hands where they still rested on her hips, and he let her go.

Andy glanced over her shoulder at Chiz as she headed across the room to the dresser. She saw his eyes light up with glee as she opened the drawer that contained their extensive collection of toys.

“Down, boy,” she laughed.

“Doll, if you’re gonna bring somethin’ out of that drawer you should’ve left time for me to mess you up.”

Andy only smiled.  She walked back over to Chiz and handed him the flat, square, black velvet box.  The box wasn’t big, but it was larger than her open hand.

He took it from her with a quizzical look.  His expression when he opened it was an absolute picture. Andy wished she’d had a camera to capture it.  Astonishment turned to delight as he lifted the contents of the box clear of its white satin bed.

“Doll, you remembered.  You got me a collar.”

“I thought adding the leash as well would be taking it too far.”

The purpose and intention behind the piece was not obvious.  The thin, smooth cylindrical length of polished steel had a hinge which would lie at the nape of the neck and a four-barrel combination lock at the front that was barely wider than the loop of metal itself.  Overall, it wasn’t particularly thick, or heavy.  To anyone who didn’t know their story, it would simply look like a piece of unusual and unique jewelry.

“Will you put it on me… Domina?”

Oh.  When Chiz used that title it made her pussy clench, and flood with wet.  At this rate she was going to turn up for the opening of her own club looking like she’d been dragged through a hedge, or fucked rampantly, which would be more accurate.  “Sure, the combination’s…”

Chiz interrupted her.  “No, don’t tell me.  I don’t wanna know.  Only you should know how to take it off.”

As she twisted the segments of the numerical lock to show the date that she’d met Chiz, which was the code to release the catch, Andy mentally ran through the various possibilities for positions that wouldn’t mean a complete do-over of all her primping.

The catch on the lock sprang with a click.  Without being asked, Chiz knelt in front of her.  Andy squeezed her thighs together as she leaned down to fasten the collar around Chiz’s neck.  She ran her thumb over the combination, spinning the segments to disorder the code and engage the lock.  That part of the collar rested just on his collar bones, over the hollow at the base of his throat.

The look he gave her once it was in place held no trace of submission, but that wasn’t what the collar was about.  They weren’t living the lifestyle, not exclusively.  It wasn’t a definition of their relationship, it was a symbol of their partnership, of the way they complemented each other.

Chiz began to raise the hem of her dress.  Yeah, they were going to be late to the opening.

“These are new,” Chiz commented when he saw her shoes.  Her answer died in her throat as Chiz circled her ankles with his hands.  He was careful, oh so careful, not to snag her hose with his rough skin, but that made his touch tantalizingly feather light as he ran his palms up the length of her legs, raising her dress so that it draped over his arms as he did so.  He ran his thumbs along the lace band that topped her stockings, along the border between lace and flesh.  Andy had to take a deep breath to steady herself at that intimate touch.

As he reached her thighs, he took hold of the bunched fabric to keep it out of his way.  His smile changed from sly to a full-wattage beam.

“Oh, Domina.  You’re goin’ commando.”

Oh fuck, she was going to come just from that rumble of appreciation in his voice.  As it was, once he leaned in, and began to lap at her clit, and especially when he thrust two fingers into her and began to pump them, she set a land-speed record.  As pleasure rolled up and over her, Andy’s knees gave way.  She tottered on her heels, and when she dropped into an orgasmic heap, Chiz caught her, and pulled her more firmly into his lap.  He reached his hand around to her mouth.  He slipped his fingers between her lips, and she delicately sucked them clean of her juices.  She took a little care not to smudge her lipstick.

“What about you?”

“I’ll collect later, doll.  Just don’t hit the champagne too hard, yeah?”

Andy laid her head on Chiz’s shoulder.  She was feeling blissfully sleepy.  

“Oh no you don’t, doll.  You got a club full of people waitin’ for you tonight.  Up you get.”

Chiz gave her a little shove.  Andy pouted, but collected the skirt of her dress in her hands so that she didn’t snag it on her heels, and clambered to her feet.  Chiz scrambled up after her.  He resumed his position behind her as she began to repair her makeup.  She nearly fudged the reapplication of her lipstick when he ran his fingertip down her spine.

“Doll, I want you take my ink.  Will you do that?  Wear my mark?”  Chiz murmured at her ear.

Andy paused in the act of dabbing a brush into a pot of highlighter powder.  “What’s involved with that?  Do I need to get your name tattooed on me?”

Chiz chuckled. “Old ladies, to be official, recognized by the club, get ink.  An angel.  It sounds kinda cheesy, but it’s a symbol of how they’re our guardians.”

Andy relaxed back against Chiz’s body to take the sting out of her teasing humor.  “Guardians of your heart?  Yeah, you’re right, that’s cheesier than Hallmark.”

Chiz squeezed his hands which he’d returned to her hips.  “More like of our souls.  And try not to ruin the romantic moment here, doll.”

“I was only joking.  I’d be proud to.  Do I get any say in it?”

“Yeah, as much as you want, as long as it’s an angel.  I’d like for it to be somewhere that can be seen though.  I wanna be able to see it.”

Andy thought for a moment; her eyes were fixed on the collar around Chiz’s neck in their reflection.  She’d never really considered getting a tattoo before, having never been interested from a purely decorative point of view, and not having felt the need to commemorate any aspect of her life with a permanent mark, but she wasn’t against the idea of one. 

“How about on my back, across my shoulders?”

“That’d be perfect.”  Chiz nuzzled into her neck and whispered, “Thank you.”

“Keep that up, and we’re not going to make it to the party at all.”

She felt Chiz’s smile rather than saw it.  He stepped back, and swatted her ass, making her jump.  “Where’re your keys, doll?  The only way we’ll get there anythin’ like on time is if I drive.”

~o0o~

The club was packed.  Andy was pleased, and relieved to see the space filled with bodies, and excited to feel the thrum of a crowd that was having a good time.  The building had almost been completely divided in two. The larger section was given over to the strip club and restaurant, the public face of the building.  That was where the party was being held.  The smaller section that housed the dungeon rooms was closed off for this night.  It had its own separate entrance, and could run almost as its own entity.

Andy had not wanted to recreate the décor of her club in Alabama, and the building had not been suited to that arrangement.  The space was open plan.  A sweeping staircase with an ornate ironwork balustrade led to the mezzanine floor, which was dedicated to the restaurant.  No food beyond bar snacks would be served on the lower floor.  The stage was in the center of the room.  Several poles rose majestically from the marble-effect platform up to the ceiling, spanning both stories.  Chairs and circular tables were arranged around the stage, and the walls were lined with booths to afford privacy for lap dances.  The lighting and color scheme was based on scarlet, burgundy and a deep chocolate brown.  Clean lines and a lack of ornamentation ensured that the overall effect was of cozy, yet elegant, decadence.

As well as townsfolk who were enjoying a classy night out, or simply investigating what all the fuss was about, there were tourists and fans who were waiting for the headline act of the night.  Lyla Lyssa would soon be performing a burlesque strip-tease.

The members of both charters of the Priests MC were seated a little apart from the crowd at their own dedicated tables.  Shark and Ashleigh were enjoying a date night, having left Deanna Belle under the watchful eye of one of the Prospects.  The only member to have offered excuses was the president of the Texas charter.  Samuel had apologized on Dizzy’s behalf, but his absence was understandable, given that his wife had delivered their baby boy the week previously.  Andy had been delightfully shocked to find out that Lyla Lyssa was married to one of the officers of the Texas charter, and had been overjoyed when Samuel had relayed that Lyla would be delighted to assist Andy, and the club, by performing at the opening celebration.