by Jade West
I found myself nodding at that, too.
“Playrooms are over there,” Cara said, pointing to a corridor by the dance floor. “They’re great. You’ll want to check them out.”
But no. I wouldn’t.
I knew exactly what I would be checking out. I’d known it from the very instant we’d walked into the bar.
The stage.
I’d be checking out the damn stage.
“Here they come,” Raven said, gesturing up to the very stage I was thinking about.
Elaine sat forward on her stool to get a clearer view, and the lights dimmed down on the dance floor, lighting up the stage like the West End theater we’d seen earlier. Incredibly dramatic. Enough to make my pulse race.
I had no idea who they were who were coming, but I was very interested to find out.
Elaine asked Raven the question.
“Who’s coming up on stage?”
Cara was the one who answered, with a filthy grin on her face. “Masque and Cat. They are Explicit superstars. You’ll see why in a minute.”
The whole room’s attention was up there, which was also an unusual feeling, given that almost everywhere I went in the world, everyone’s attention was always on me.
It only took a moment as the figures appeared on stage to realize why.
The woman was beautiful. Beautiful, naked and proud of it, her dark hair cascading down her back as she raised her hands for the shackles coming down from the ceiling. But it wasn’t just her who was grabbing the attention, it was the hulk of a man who appeared behind her.
He was absolutely fucking huge. Huge, toned, and quite possibly the most confident guy I’d ever seen outside of myself. He reeked of it. Pure, unabashed confidence, without a hint of arrogance. He was in a leather mask that covered half of his face, and that made him look all the more intimidating. That combined with the fact that he had a huge dark tattoo on his chest. A two-headed dragon creature, its tail curling around his back.
“Wow,” Elaine said, and Raven nodded.
She leaned over close enough to nudge my princess with a smirk on her face. “I did that tattoo for him. The chimera.”
“You’re a tattoo artist?”
“Yes,” she said. “I am.”
Again I had another flash of instinct. A very definite one.
My princess was going to get tattooed by her, and I was going to be the one choosing the marks she’d be wearing forever more.
Conversation sure as fuck dried up when the big guy grabbed his flogger and started trailing it down his bitch’s spine. She tipped her head back, ready and hungry. A true submissive. That much was very obvious.
Fuck, how he hurt her.
Fuck, how she wanted it.
Whimpering turned to squeals, and squeals turned to gasps, and gasps turned to tears.
Tears turned to begging for more.
The flogger turned to a crop, and a crop turned to a cane, and that beast of a man took that bitch like a serious fucking master. I felt strangely competitive as I watched him. I also felt strangely competitive as I watched the way my angelic little slut was watching him hurting his woman, transfixed. I was jealous.
He was the first damn man I’d been jealous of in my whole fucking life, but again it was bizarre, because I didn’t feel any malice in it. Nothing but an insane sense of… respect. I didn’t give respect very easily.
The master slapped his girl’s pussy until she was clamping her thighs closed tight and then, when she was trembling and quaking, he barked at her to spread them wide.
She did just as she was told. Good little slut.
Even I was surprised when he fisted her. Hard. Right up there on stage, in the spotlight, in front of the whole damn room. Jesus Christ, she took it like a perfect whore, working herself onto his fist like a horny bitch, even though she was gasping with the pain.
My dick was hard watching them, but it wasn’t hard for them. It was hard for the girl at my side, picturing her up there in the same fucking shackles, bracing herself to take the pain.
I looked across at her, my Elaine, and she was still transfixed. I saw the way she was clenching her own thighs together under her gown and could imagine how her heart was fluttering. She liked it. She wanted it. My darling wanted to be taken like a dirty little bitch up in shackles in the spotlight, just as I wanted to take her that way.
That sealed her fate. My beautiful princes had sealed her fate.
The man they called Masque took his woman until she was a quivering wreck, then fucked her ass as she moaned, still strung up tight as the club watched them in awe. It put the West End musical to shame.
Raven was nodding at us with a clear yeah, told you so when the lights came back up and the couple left the stage to thunderous applause. Even my princess was clapping and whooping.
“Explicit superstars,” Raven reiterated. “Nobody ever gets enough of them.”
I most definitely wasn’t expecting it when the two of them headed right on over, the girl still teetering on wobbly legs as she reached Raven and pulled her in for a hug.
Masque was an even bigger beast up close. He checked us out, both me and Elaine, and gave a smile.
“Welcome to Club Explicit.”
He held out a hand and I took it, well aware it was covered in his pretty slut’s juices.
“Lucian,” I said, only registering I’d introduced myself on first name terms after the word had left my mouth.
“James,” he replied, and Raven let out a laugh.
“My God, Masque, did you just tell him your actual name?” She leaned closer to me. “You must be damn royalty for James to call himself James.”
I guess we were damn royalty though, and we always would be.
“Have you checked out the playrooms yet?” James asked me, but I shook my head.
“Not yet,” I told him. “I have more pressing interests.”
He read my mind and smirked at me.
“You’ll have the whole place lifting the roof if you give them a second show tonight.”
Elaine’s eyes widened like saucers at that, pretty little mouth dropping open.
“On stage?” she asked, attention all on me. “We might be going up on stage?!”
I got straight up to my feet, dick throbbing hard enough in my pants that it hurt.
“No might about it, baby,” I told her. “Get your sweet little pussy over there right fucking now.”
27
Elaine
Everybody’s eyes were fixed on me as I made my way across the room, heading up to the stage. I’d never felt so exposed in my life, and I wasn’t even naked yet, my ballgown was still glittering bright, sweeping around my feet with every step.
Lucian led the way up the stairs at the side of the stage, then presented me under the spotlights, showing me off to the gathering crowd with that beautiful pride on his face, and I felt it. Even under the tension, and the nerves, and the fear, he was the core of me. My heart and my soul.
With the lights blinding me from up above, people were largely shadows, but I could still see them gathering closer, their eyes on me.
I’d never have imagined myself in this position, up on stage in a BDSM club, about to be fucked and hurt in front of a crowd by the ultimate lord of my life, Lucian Morelli. The craziness of this situation put the red carpet walk to shame. I was shivering, goose prickled, pulse racing in fight or flight.
I knew I would never be fleeing from my master. I knew I would do whatever he commanded me to do, and I wanted that. I needed that.
I was still flushed from watching the couple up on stage before us, still excited, because from the very first moment I’d seen them up there, I’d wanted to be that woman up on stage, held firm in the shackles.
Only I hadn’t wanted it to be her beast of a man up there alongside me, playing me as a master for the room.
I’d wanted it to be my monster. My master. My Lucian.
His hands were firm and steady as he took hold of th
e shackles above me and bound my hands in the cuffs. I let out a gasp as he pulled them high, stretching my arms up tight above me, high enough that I was on tiptoes, even in my heels.
His body was so hot as he pressed himself tight to my back, even through his tuxedo. His voice was a gravelly whisper in my ear.
“You’ll take what you’re given, Elaine, and it’s going to hurt.”
A whole new wave of shivers raced through me, and I was back there in front of him in my mind, right from the very beginning, when I’d known he’d give me pain and I’d wanted it so much I was begging him.
I closed my eyes when he pulled my dress loose and let it drop to the floor around my feet, my heart racing all the more at the cheer from the crowd. And there I was, teetering in front of the watching audience in just my heels and panties. My panties which were already wet from how much I wanted this.
I knew my cut was still clear on my ribs, but it was already beginning to heal. To fade. To become irrelevant. Enough that the crowd in front of me didn’t freak out at me under the lights.
“Step,” Lucian said, and I raised my feet one at a time as he pulled my dress out from underneath me.
Then he moved away.
It felt like I was there an age, standing bare for the spectators.
I heard him behind me, clearly swishing implements from a rack. It was a flogger he presented me with first, only he didn’t run it down my back like the beast before him had teased his woman. Lucian curled it right around my tits from the very first swing, catching a nipple so hard it made me jump in the chains, and that’s when it truly took me, the craving for the hurt running right through my veins like a calling.
I was ready for it when he did it again, only this time I didn’t jump, I moaned, bracing myself proud.
He tugged my panties down my thighs.
“Step,” he said again, and I was ready, stepping out of the lace.
I was naked apart from my heels, nipples hard and still stinging. He reached his hands around from behind me, sliding them across my skin to twist and pull to turn that stinging to a hard, strong pain.
“Take it,” he said, and I tipped my head back against his shoulder, offering my tits to his hands and he twisted and pulled some more. His breath was on my neck and I found I was smiling, eyes still closed as I focused on his touch and nothing more.
His fingers slid down my ribs, tickling, but again he was so careful not to hurt the pain he didn’t cause. I clenched my stomach muscles as they swept their way further down.
“Spread yourself for me,” he whispered. “Be a good girl and spread your thighs as far as they’ll fucking go.”
I was a good girl for him. I spread my thighs as far as they would fucking go, putting all of my weight on those shackles.
His fingers spread my pussy lips, exposing my clit to the crowd. I gasped as he circled the right spot, teasing me just enough that I let out a moan as he pushed three fingers inside me in one thrust.
“Show them what a horny little bitch you are,” he ordered me. “Squirm on my fingers like a slut.”
I did.
I squirmed on his fingers like a slut, even though he was so brutal it hurt.
When he yanked those fingers from me, his breaths were faster. I could feel the swell in his pants against my ass and he was so hard that it made me alive with a new sense of pride. I wanted the crowd to see me be a good little slut enough to please him. I wanted them to see I could drive a man like Lucian Morelli crazy because he wanted me so much. Not any of the other stunning women in this room who were more experienced than I was, but me. Only me.
“Suck me clean,” he said and pushed his wet fingers into my mouth and I sucked him so hard I was slurping.
“Good girl,” he hissed, and then he became my true master. My master for the world around us to see.
His hands slapped and twisted, setting my skin alive. My pussy was so sore after he spanked it long and hard that I tried to close my thighs, but he barked that I wasn’t to fucking disobey him.
The flogger was a gem, trailing, then stinging, everywhere from my back, to my ass, and my tits, everywhere desperate for more… but he was as careful a tiger as ever, playing just the right places of me in just the right ways.
The crop attacked my thighs with perfect precision, making me cry out a little every time it landed by my pussy, so tender. His fingers fucked me between rounds of thwacks and I moaned for him, giving him my insides like a whore craving more.
My mouth was already open, panting when he kissed me, and that’s when I realized it. My eyes were still closed. My eyes had been closed the whole time he was using me.
Turns out, he’d realized it before I had.
“Look at me,” he commanded, and I opened them to find him standing right there, his face beautiful enough that I sucked in a breath. The dirty glint in his stare, hungry for me. His stunning mouth that made mine water, needing his spit and his tongue more than I’d ever needed champagne.
“Suck,” he said, again reading my mind, and I sucked his tongue as he kissed me like a kid needing a lollipop, still so firm in the shackles that I moaned for more when he pulled away and I couldn’t reach him.
He stepped away and my open eyes landed on the room. On the figures there staring up at me. At the gathered crowd, some of them so close that I could see their faces under the glare of the spotlights. Every single one of them was looking at me like I was a queen.
Yes.
I wanted this.
It was a mirror to everything I’d hated in my past. People playing with me when I didn’t want them to, looking at me like a dirty little piece of shit who meant nothing.
This was a whole other word. Lucian Morelli playing with me when I wanted nothing more than his touch and his commands, while a whole room stared at me like I was a goddess who meant everything.
I was so happy when Lucian stepped back up beside me with a smirk and placed a cane against my tits. I nodded, smiling right back, my stare all on him.
He caned my tits so hard I was crying out, but still I was offering myself for more, desperate for the stripes, for the pain, for the marks on my skin.
His marks on my skin.
I was trembling as he caned my thighs, striping me up all over again.
He caned me until I was panting and struggling to take it, even in my submissive state. Then he played with my clit, his fingers a perfect tease. He caned my ass until I was crying out, broken, and then his fingers played me some more, over and over and over, until I was in a blur in the most blissful of ways.
Still that room stared up at me, transfixed.
I didn’t know it was coming when he lowered my shackles and dropped me down to my knees. The chains were hanging loose when he presented himself in front of me, his pants unbuckled and his cock hard enough that it was dark with desperation.
Oh, how he fucked my mouth. I gagged and retched and spluttered, dribbling spit down onto the floor. He took hold of my throat and choked me as I tried to suck him, my eyes watering as I stared up at his face. I was moaning as he stole his dick from me, moaning harder as he got down onto his knees behind me and rubbed himself against my slit.
Oh, how he fucked my pussy. Oh, how I moaned like a slut, chains rattling and the crowd cheering as I slammed myself back onto his dick with every thrust.
He took my hair, twisted and pulled, showing me off as I moaned, angling himself just right so I bucked and gasped and came for him.
And then he came for me.
Lucian Morelli came for me in front of a crowded room, grunting as he spurted inside me.
I’d never been so proud in my life.
I was his woman. His whore. His slut.
I was the love of his life.
God, it was bliss. Pure, absolute bliss. I was grinning when he unbuckled the shackles and helped me to my feet in the most gracious of ways, smiling back at me in the most gorgeous way I’d ever seen him smile.
He helped me back into my
dress with gentle hands, and I knew full well I was marked all over by his brutality. I was buzzing from it so brightly that it felt like a crime to cover it back up with the fabric.
The crowd had already began dispersing when we climbed down from the stage and made our way back over to the bar. I must have been glowing like a beacon, flinching as I sat down on a stool next to the woman who’d introduced herself as Raven.
She laughed at me, a lovely genuine giggle that was almost like a cackle.
“Told you it won’t be your last time here,” she said, and I laughed along with her.
She was damn right on that.
We were in there a long, long time, chatting away quite happily to Raven, and her girlfriend, and James and Cat. They were amazing, treating us like any other clubgoer and not as people in the media glare all over the world. I loved it. All of it.
It was almost morning when we finally got into a cab, all set to head back to Quentin Manor and a nice, warm bed. Lucian was only glancing at his cell when he pulled a face. I was close enough to see the twenty-five missed calls, all with the same number.
A number from over in the US.
Lucian recognized it though. I could see it from his scowl.
He didn’t even get a chance to talk about it before his cell started up all over again. It was still on silent from the club, but the screen was flashing, showing it was still that same number.
He answered with a “what?” and I heard the voice at the other end, my head still on Lucian’s shoulder, close enough to hear.
The voice was seething. Nasty.
“You’ve gone way too fucking far this time, son. It’s time to say goodbye.”
Lucian was right back at him, his tone nasty to match.
“Don’t start a war,” he said. “It won’t be a pretty one.”
And then he hung up the call.
28
Lucian
I’d known the war was coming, and I knew my family would be out for the attack, just as Elaine’s would be. Still, it didn’t stop the shiver up my spine as I realized afresh what would be headed our way. At least one attempt on our lives.
