Inside the Lines: Without a Trace series, a contemporary erotic romance novel by Bishop Ally

Author:Bishop, Ally [Bishop, Ally]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scarlet River Press
Published: 2015-03-09T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

When in Rome

Stephen’s house is on the Upper West Side, so by the time we finally find a spot to park—one of the many reasons I’ll never own a car in NYC—it’s just before midnight. I’m ready to shed this corset and tulle, but I paste a smile on my face as we traipse towards the door.

I grab Fin’s hand. “Just remember—anything goes. Try not to stare, unless it seems welcome. And don’t touch anyone, as you never know what that might get you into.” I think for a second. “Oh, and don’t agree to anything. He’ll have several slaves ready to submit to a willing Master, so whatever happens, don’t nod, say yes, or look interested. Unless you are, of course.”

He makes a manly noise that sounds suspiciously like the infamous Scottish grunt. “Hmphmm. I think I’ll let ye do the talking, just to be on the safe side.” He curls his fingers beneath my chin, feathering a light kiss against my lips. “Ye’re the only woman I wish to have mastering me…or submitting to me for that matter.” He winks.

I smile, but inside, I’m quivering. We’ve discussed the whole let-me-tie-you-up-like-you-did-to-me thing several times. Not because he’s pushed the issue, but because I don’t know that I’ll ever be ready for it. And I still don’t know what to do about it. Yet there’s a part of me that can’t stop thinking about it.

Inside Stephen’s large, one-story townhome, we’re ushered into a dark, sophisticated dream. There’s a hookah room, an artist’s alley, and when you walk further back, you discover what really makes Stephen’s parties a hit: the anything-goes event.

And I do mean anything.

I watch Fin’s face, enjoying the play of reactions as we step into the dusky space that is normally a game room. Tonight, it’s been cleared of all furniture, except for some plush chairs. Thick rugs line the hardwood floor, and given how many people are naked and in varied positions upon its lush fibers, that’s probably a good thing. Heavy bass fills the air, pumping a haunting rhythm that seems alive against a backdrop of sexual energy. From BDSM and fetish play to outright sex, the orgy before us moves to its own beats and kink.

Fin bites the inside of his lip, probably to keep his jaw from dropping. “You dinna adequately describe the level of debauchery, love,” he says softly in my ear.

“Have I offended your delicate sensibilities?” I return, teasing and sliding my leg between his, enjoying the feel of his cock stiffening against me.

“In many, many ways.” His mouth captures mine in a sensual kiss, and the din of the room is forgotten for the moment.

We escape to the relative quiet of the artist’s alley, where local creative minds offer some of their wares. It’s set in the dining room, while the caterers work at a frantic pace in the kitchen. Stephen wanders by, his blond hair a beacon in the dim mood lighting.

He spots us immediately. “My doves, you made it.

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