Beneath the Scars

by Cherise Sinclair

  Okay, his order wasn’t unhealthy or illegal. Only…dammit. She already knew he wouldn’t let her go to the restroom to take off her briefs. A glance showed her the others were watching. Not only the Doms, but Zuri and Beth, too.

  She bit her lip. Surely, this wasn’t more embarrassing than stripping completely naked like last week.

  Only it was. “Yes, Sir.”

  With cold fingers, she reached under her mid-calf-length skirt and lifted it far enough to catch the bottom of her briefs and work them off.

  Without a word, Holt confiscated them and tucked them into the inside pocket of his black leather vest.

  “Thank you. Now sit.” He patted the extended lounge between his bent knees.

  As she planted her butt between his legs, he pulled her back against his chest. With a sigh, she relaxed and smoothed her skirt down over her knees. This wasn’t so bad.

  Holt picked up a blanket from beside the chair and shook it out over both of their laps.

  She gave him a quizzical glance over her shoulder.

  “I thought you’d prefer not to flash people when I did this.” Reaching down, he put his hands under her thighs and lifted her knees. Ignoring her attempt at resisting, he parted her knees until they leaned against his bent legs. Thank heavens he’d put a blanket over her.

  “Now, let’s explore a bit of bondage.” Her right forearm lay on the armrest, and he drew a padded short strap over the top of her wrist, securing the fabric on the underside of the chair arm. Where it stayed.

  Her mouth dropped open. The…the jerk had restrained her wrist to the chair arm. She tugged at her wrist, realizing if she really, really wanted loose, she could get free.

  And even as she thought that, he secured her left wrist to the other armrest.

  “How did you do that so fast?” Buckles should take longer.

  “Velcro is an amazing invention.”

  Something slid over her breasts, and…she gasped, realizing he’d undone her halter-top. She’d put a knot in the ties, dammit.

  She tried to pull up the top—and her arms didn’t move. Turning her head, she growled, “What are you doing?”

  “I’m letting my fellow Doms enjoy the sight of my submissive’s breasts. They’re very pretty breasts.”

  “You…you—”

  The laughter in his eyes cooled. “Your language is becoming increasingly disrespectful, subbie.” He looked past her. “Nolan, you got any extra leather strips? Two, if possible?”

  “Got you covered.” Nolan’s bag was at his feet. He rummaged and tossed something over.

  Holt caught the leather strips. He moved sideways slightly, so she could see his face without craning her neck. “Now, pet, you’ve been in the Shadowlands long enough to know that a submissive’s body belongs to her Dom—even if it’s only for the course of an evening.”

  She nodded despite the sinking feeling in her stomach. “But…but…”

  “You were completely naked last weekend, were you not?”

  A flush rose in her cheeks. That had been different. Here, she was sitting in a group of friends, expecting to have a conversation. This just wasn’t…right.

  His eyes held hers. “This, Josie, is the heart of submission—obeying even when you don’t want to. Open your mouth.”

  She knew her glower was singularly ineffective when laughter lightened his eyes. Her defiance found nothing to fight, as he simply waited, knowing she’d give in.

  Her mouth opened.

  He pushed the thick strand of leather between her teeth and knotted it behind her head, “Since you can’t talk, if you need to safeword, I want you to hoot—or scream—three times in a row.” He held her gaze with his until she nodded.

  Oh, God. She could see Beth’s sympathetic look, the amusement in Nolan’s black gaze, Uzuri’s—

  The other strip of leather appeared in front of her, and she involuntarily shut her eyes. The leather pressed against her eyes…and he knotted it behind her head like the gag. He’d blindfolded her.

  She tried to say, “Take it off,” but it came out “Aaa-iii-ooo!” When she tried to get up, Holt pulled her to him, her back against his chest. He anchored her in place with his hand over her right breast. Her very bare breast.

  “Mmmph!”

  “I know.” His whisper was low and smooth, his breath warming her ear. “Giving over control isn’t easy, but sweetheart, you have no choice.”

  His hand gently caressed her breast and heat surged over her skin, in spite of her dismay. She couldn’t even see who was watching.

  She was gripping the armrests so hard her hands ached.

  “Relax.” He rubbed his cheek against hers. “You’ll give me what I ask of you, because that’s what a submissive does for her Dom.”

  She could safeword. She knew she could safeword.

  How could she totally hate this and want this? Why did letting him take control from her make her want to give him more? Make her anxious and…happy?

  “That’s a good girl,” he whispered. His fingers tugged her nipples lightly, the pressure forceful enough to send an ache of need through her. He lifted his voice. “Is anyone going to Anne’s tomorrow for her barbecue?”

  “Can’t,” Max said. “I’m on duty, Alastair’s on call, and Zuri won’t go without us.” Max chuckled. “She doesn’t trust Anne’s temper these days.”

  Josie couldn’t believe Holt was touching her even while he participated in the conversation. Under his ruthless touch, her breasts swelled and her arousal surged.

  “Ben does a good barbecue,” Nolan was saying.

  Holt’s right hand stroked down her stomach beneath the blanket. Slowly, he drew her skirt up, and his fingers slid through the wet folds of her pussy. His cheek rubbed against hers. “You’re wet, Josie.” And he proved it by spreading the moisture over her throbbing clitoris.

  She almost, almost lost control and moaned. Were they all looking at her?

  A pinch on her breast derailed her thoughts, and the sharp pain zipped like a bolt of electricity to her pussy. He moved slightly, reached farther, and slid one finger past her folds and up inside her pussy.

  She inhaled sharply.

  Slowly, he slid it out, circled up and around her clit, and thrusting back in. Harder.

  Her hips wiggled slightly.

  His voice was low as he warned, “Don’t move, Josie, or everyone will know where my hand is.”

  She froze. It was bad enough they could see him fondling her bare breasts.

  “If you make any noise or move, I’ll know you want to share, and we’ll finish without the blanket.”

  Her breathing stopped in her throat. No, no, no.

  His fingers on her pussy never ceased the slow, ruthless stimulation. Sliding in and out of her, making circles around her aching, swelling clit even as his other hand played with her breasts.

  And he continued to chat with the other Doms. The…the bastard.

  The soft background of their conversation disappeared beneath the hammering of her pulse. Sweat bloomed on her skin as her excitement rose. She was at the edge of coming, so close…

  “I think you can wait a while longer,” he whispered in her ear and resumed talking with the other Doms. His finger slowed, lightened. Each touch on her clit pulled her close and then he’d pause. Slide in. Out. Touch.

  “Hey, Z, I heard Ghost was a Dom in Seattle,” Max called.

  “He was,” Z said in his rich deep voice.

  Her jerk of surprise pushed her hips against Holt’s fingers, and she was too, too close, and… An immense tidal wave of pleasure crashed over her as wave after wave of exquisite sensation poured into her veins. Don’t move, don’t move. Yet holding still made every spasm of pleasure more intense, and it went on and on until even her fingers and toes were tingling.

  As the breakers receded slightly, and her breathing started to slow, she heard the men discussing the security guard who’d turned out to be a Dom. And a sadist.

  And then she
heard Z’s quiet voice. “Thank you for sharing, Holt. She is lovely when she comes.”

  “Isn’t she though?” Holt agreed easily. “Will you need her back at the bar tonight?”

  Master Z chuckled. “You may keep her.”

  Despite the sweet languor of her body, Josie felt the heat of embarrassment cover her like an added blanket. Had Z truly told Holt to keep her?

  She struggled to move…and heard Master Holt’s voice in her ear. “Uh, uh, little bartender. Be still.”

  The stern order sapped the strength from her muscles, and she lay quiet. Between her bent knees, his palm covered her mound, as if to hold in the lingering, throbbing pleasure. His other arm held her still, his warm palm cupping her breast.

  “You don’t have anything to do right now, pet, and I like holding you.” He rubbed his chin over her hair and returned to talking with the others.

  Relaxing, she realized she was breathing in time with him. And she loved the feeling of being held—not allowed to move—not having to make any decisions.

  After a few more minutes, he kissed her cheek and removed the blindfold and gag. “This is our last chance to have something to drink. I’d like you to get us a Mountain Dew and a root beer, please.”

  Blinking, she looked around. Everyone was still there. Had seen…everything. Heat rose in her cheeks again.

  “Josie?” Holt said.

  “Sure.”

  When his one eyebrow rose, she hastily amended, “Yes, Sir. I’d like to fetch us drinks.”

  “That sounded very nice. Thank you, pet.”

  Why did the approving sound in his voice soothe every worried rumple in her body?

  He reached under the blanket and pulled her skirt down, undid her wrists, and helped her sit up. “Off you go, then.”

  She started to tie up her halter-top, caught the stern shake of his head, and dropped her hands. Dammit.

  Beth and Zuri waited off to one side for her to join them.

  Oh, God, they’d have watched the whole thing. She wished the ground would swallow her up. What must they think?

  A hand took hers and squeezed. Zuri grinned at her. “Relax, girl. You’re not the first or the last to be on display.”

  Beth took her other hand. “You’re so lucky—you got a blanket. Master Nolan put me on the bar—naked—where everybody could watch.”

  “When I first started, I thought Master Cullen’s bar ornaments referred to the big chains over the bar. I have since learned up close and in person all about being a bar ornament.” Zuri rolled her eyes.

  Beth burst into laughter.

  Josie frowned. “What are bar ornaments?”

  “Us, girlfriend. Naked submissives are the bar ornaments.” Zuri shook her head. “Haven’t you noticed the chains dangling from the ceiling beams?”

  She’d noticed. “I figured the chains were there before the bar was built. Seriously? Those are for…restraints? On my bar?” Outrage made her voice louder.

  “Oh yes.” Zuri shook her head. “That’s why Beth is laughing. I pranked my Dragon Doms, and I not only got secured to the bar—naked—but they made me come so many times I was begging them to stop.”

  Josie stopped dead. “You’re joking.”

  “’Fraid not.”

  Beth gave Josie a sympathetic look. “It’s a shock when a Master makes himself free with what he considers his property. I have to say Master Holt was pretty careful with you.”

  Nolan had put his pretty redhead on the bar. Naked. As a bar ornament. The Drago cousins had done that to Zuri.

  Josie huffed out a breath. “I guess he was.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mountain Dew in hand, Holt frowned as he watched Z walk across the lawn to the center. What was he up to now?

  On her knees in the grass, Josie was leaning against Holt’s lounge chair, obviously enjoying having him play with the soft, short strands of her hair and with her bare breasts. Gradually, she’d relaxed, more comfortable with his hands being on her.

  And hadn’t she been gorgeous earlier, the way she responded to his touch despite her embarrassment? The way she’d climaxed so beautifully.

  When the time was right, he planned to take her into the Gardens and take her more thoroughly.

  “People.” Z lifted his voice…just enough. Like a wave, silence rolled outward from where he stood. When the grounds were quiet, he continued. “During Saturnalia, the Romans would conduct a power exchange and switch roles between a Master or Mistress and their slaves. Tonight, until I announce differently, the Dominants and Tops will serve the submissives and bottoms. Aside from food service, consent is still mandatory.”

  As voices rose in elation—and complaint, Z simply strolled away.

  Holt glanced around.

  Nolan and Alastair wore frowns.

  Max was laughing. “Z’s sure upset the apple cart.”

  “This should be an interesting hour.” Holt rose to his feet.

  Startled, Josie stared. “But—”

  “I guess it’s our turn to work.” Max stood and lifted Uzuri to her feet. “Here, this is your spot, my lady.” He carefully seated her in the nest of pillows he’d been using.

  Catching on, Uzuri smoothed down her slinky white dress and straightened regally. “Where’s my scepter? Don’t I get a scepter?”

  Chuckling, Alastair reached into his bag. With a low bow, he handed her an oversized pink dildo. “Your scepter, my lady.”

  “Pitiful,” she muttered, then waved it at Josie who still looked unsettled. “Get with the program, girl.”

  “But…”

  When Nolan rose, Beth stared. “Sir? You’re going along with this?”

  “When the Lord of Misrule speaks, the guests obey.” Nolan’s amusement showed for a second. “Have a seat here, my queen, while I bring you some sustenance.”

  Lady for one. Queen for another. Well, his Josie should outrank them. Holt held his hand down to her. “Let me assist you into your place, my empress.”

  Catching the rise in hierarchy, she huffed a laugh and settled into the lounge chair.

  Indulging himself shamefully, Holt stroked her smooth legs as he straightened her skirt. Then he retied her halter-top to cover her breasts. “Might your humble servant bring you and your friends a drink?” Since she was new to command, he added, “Please make your instructions clear for your somewhat foolish minion.”

  Looking uncomfortable, she glanced at the other women. “What would y’all like? Holt’s fixin’ to fetch us drinks.”

  Ah, her drawl turned thicker when she was uncomfortable. Good to know.

  Beth considered and ordered herself a Bushmills with a Corona for Master Nolan.

  Uzuri added her preferences and glanced at Alastair. “Would you like a—”

  “My queen’s presence is the only refreshment I need,” the doc said smoothly.

  His cousin Max made gagging sounds.

  Uzuri glared. “Such unseemly noises.” She waved her hand at Max. “You get no refreshment. Be off with you and assist Holt with his task.”

  “Me?” Max scowled at Alastair. “She likes you better. I knew it.”

  When Uzuri’s mouth dropped open in dismay, Holt chuckled. His sweet friend had a tender heart—and a huge phobia about being rude. He bent down to whisper in her ear, “Max is pulling your chain, sweets. Teach him a lesson and tell him he can’t talk.”

  Zuri’s shoulders straightened. “Max, you may not speak the remainder of this time. Go with Holt. Now.”

  After shooting Holt a laughing look that promised retribution, the Dom sketched a salute of silent obedience to his queen.

  “My empress, what is your desire?” Holt asked Josie.

  Her lovely green eyes showed her discomfort. She’d been well into the submissive mindset, and now Z had jerked her out of her comfort zone. The next hour should be interesting for both of them.

  Josie swallowed. “Well, I’d like an iced tea. And would you—” She broke off and firmed her
jaw. “You may have a beer for yourself if you are quick about it.”

  “You are most generous, my empress.” He gave her a polite bow and headed off with Max to the bar.

  Max was laughing as he said under his breath, “Z sure put a damper on the festivities.”

  Looking around, Holt saw that most submissives were sitting in chairs, uncomfortable and uncertain. A few were grinning widely, snapping out orders.

  Overhearing Max’s comment, Z turned from the bar with an unperturbed smile. “Would you believe the Romans did this for a week? Of course, the servants weren’t slaves by choice, so for them, Saturnalia provided a welcome break.”

  After giving Andrea the drink orders, Holt asked Z. “Aside from honoring tradition, was there another reason to the power exchange?” Z’s games often held an underlying lesson.

  Cullen set the beers on the wooden bar top. “It forces people to see what the other side feels like.”

  “Exactly.” Z tilted his head. “A few members might well discover they prefer the other role. Or both roles. The rest, whether Dominant or submissive, will be unsettled by the power exchange.”

  Ah-hah. That was the reason. “And they’ll resume their places with fresh appreciation for being in the role where they belong.”

  “Exactly.”

  Years ago, while training as a Dom, Holt tried out being a bottom. It’d given him a unique perspective of what he was asking of a submissive. Now that he’d been a Dom for a decade or so, switching roles was…interesting.

  He didn’t mind serving others, or he wouldn’t be in a health occupation. Taking orders at work rarely bothered him…as long as he agreed. In a sexual context? He liked making a woman happy…but it would be in his time and in his way. He didn’t take orders at all in bed.

  After handing out drinks, he studied his little submissive. Perhaps the most difficult part of this role reversal was seeing Josie’s discomfort.

  But since this was a lesson, he’d do his part. He knelt. “My empress, would you like me to feed you—or rub your back? Or your feet? Or might I drink my beer?”

  Josie closed her eyes in frustration as Holt tossed out a list of choices for her to select. Honestly, why was this so hard? She made decisions for herself all the time. And for Carson, too, although it’d been easy when he was younger.