Pain And Pleasure 18+✓

Seventy-nine

"Are you sure about this?" Adrian asks, his baritone projecting an unusual lack of confidence.

I nod my head. "But what about your siblings? They're all downstairs, right?"

God, I don't know what exactly I'm heading for with so much excitement, but I doubt I'd want anyone to fathom the engagement we're about to affiliate ourselves with. But I'm only going to see what it looks like; I'm not going to try any of it.

Hopefully. Right?

Adrian's eyes glow as his gaze sweeps over me ecstatically. "Why would you be worried about them if you're just going to visit? Unless, of course, you are afraid that you'll change your mind once you reach there," he teases, his mood restored to its usual glory.

Well, almost. He's not a Dom at the moment. He's just a playful boyfriend I'd love to keep for a while now that we're heading to the point of no return.

"No way! Dream on!" I edge away, my cheeks flushed thoroughly.

He pulls me back swiftly, and I land straight onto his sturdy frame. I gaze up at him, my breath shaky. The flames in his eyes are back, and the look he gives me renders my body hot like the summer heat in Dubai.

"I told you before, Arabella. We'll follow your pace," he utters, his voice deep and husky. I nod softly. "I just want you to be true to yourself. If you want it, say it. And if you don't, the rules are the same. Simply say it. Are we clear?"

Again I nod, something about his imperial voice and ample confidence holding me on the invisible leash.

"Are we clear, Arabella? I need your voice!" he snaps quietly.

"Yes, clear." I pant. The corners of his eyes crinkle until I giggle and add, "Sir."

He snorts. "Good. Let's go."

Instead of going out of the bedroom, he leads me toward the dressing room. Curiosity tortures me, but I choose patience. As if he's plucking a suit from the wardrobe, he eases his hand through the hangers, reaching for something only he is aware of. I hold myself indulgently, waiting.

Much to my astonishment, the two shoe slots disperse from the seam connection that had it one, revealing a smooth door resembling a secret vault hidden behind the wardrobes. My eyes grow more extensive, and Adrian smiles boyishly, taking pleasure from it.

"We can't draw attention with Reece around the house." He punches a code on the digital plate embedded in the door.

It swings open.

"Oh," I drawl in wonder, and he grabs my hand gently with a smile on his face.

Darkness smothers my sight when we step in. Behind us, the door shuts as though digitally automated, and I behold something utterly new when fluorescent lighting hems in at the same time. I stall for a moment, my eyeballs rotating around slowly, the floor soft against the socks on my feet.

It's here. The BDSM dungeon. His playroom.

I suddenly feel like Alice in Fetish Land; most of what I see is unbeknownst to me. But who am I to blame for this midday impromptu other than myself? I've been longing, too much curiosity devouring me from within, and here I am, ready to quench it to very deep lengths, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Welcome," Adrian says coolly, his face void of emotions.

I give him a small smile and take another stride. Industrial style room, red bricks, rough finishing, wide and spacious enough to harbor a California King bed and every makeup of a superfluous bedroom. I smell leather, wood, polish, and an oddly cool metallic scent.