She folded her hands in her lap, trying to stop the trembling that had started a few blocks before. Wesley had explained to her the difference between open sessions and closed ones.
“Sometimes it’s planned. Sometimes it’s just a spur of the moment thing, both players decide they want an audience. It’s not for everyone…” He glanced over at her¸ then back at the road. “It’s up to you.”
“Do you have a preference?” His face went in and out of shadow, impossible to read, as they drove beneath streetlights. She hoped to hell he didn’t want a public thing, session…playtime, whatever. Taking her clothes off in front of one stranger was one thing; in front of a room of them was another.
“I do, but this is your night.” She caught the flash of a grin.
“Private.”
“Okay. Private it is.” They drove in silence for a few minutes. “I do have some ideas though for tonight. You said you didn’t know anything about Dominants and submissives…Doms and subs. Do you want to learn?”
“Yes.”
“In simple terms, Dominants control submissives, within limits. Sometimes couples like to do this during play. Sometimes it’s all the time.”
Scarlett wondered what kind of woman would let a man control her, not just during sex, but in everyday life. Somehow it seemed wrong, to give up control to someone else. Then it dawned on her she was going to a club with a man who might want to control her. She wasn’t sure that’s what she wanted from this night.
“So the sub is basically just a doormat, letting a man push her around, do whatever he wants?”
Wesley shot her a look she couldn’t quite read. “No, not at all. It’s an exchange of power, sure, but it’s something both people agree to. Subs give up control willingly, not against their will. And Dominants never take that submission for granted. Ever. Even during casual sessions.”
“Are you a Dominant?”
Wesley shrugged. “Depends on who I’m with. Some women like to be submissive. Some just want to play at it, like the girls who come to Diablo. For the fantasy. They’re not serious about it.”
“If you had the choice though, would you be a Dom?”
He stole a glance at her. “You mean full-time?” He shrugged again, abruptly, more of a reflex. She had the feeling she’d crossed that line again with Wesley. She wished she could figure out where that line was and how to avoid it. But if she was going to find that line, she’d have to push him.
“Yeah. Full-time.” She paused, waiting for the shrug again. There it was. He lifted his shoulder as they pulled up to a red light.
“I’ve thought about it sometimes.” He tapped his fingers on the wheel, watching the light. “But that’s not important right now.” The light changed and he hit the gas. She was pretty sure she’d found the line and taken Wesley right up to it. But now probably wasn’t the best time to take it any further.
“So what do you want to do tonight? You said you had some ideas.”
“We’re here.” Wesley pulled up in front of what looked like an abandoned building. The windows on the ground floor were dark, the rest of the building rising up against the gray night sky.
Wesley came around and opened the car door for her. She shrugged out of her jacket, tossing it onto the front seat. She was warm, the night was warm, and the last thing she wanted was to be worrying about if she was sweating. All she had in her hands was her purse, and she clutched it as if it were a lifeline. Wesley reached behind her, pulling a black leather bag from the backseat.
“What’s that?” She eyed the bag, pretty sure it held something Wesley intended to use tonight. Her mind wasn’t quite ready to think about what he might have in there, especially standing on the sidewalk in a slightly dangerous-looking neighborhood.
There was a scrape on the sidewalk behind her, and Scarlett jumped as a large man stepped from the shadows of the front door. She slipped behind Wesley, expecting the man to grab her purse. But Wesley greeted the man by name. She watched as Wesley handed over his car keys.
“A surprise.”
“This is it?” She looked up at the building. Standing on the sidewalk, it looked scary and forbidding. The valet drove Wesley’s car away, disappearing around the corner.
“Valet parking? Nice.”
“It’s a pretty exclusive club. There’s a waiting list to get a membership.”
Wesley opened the heavy club door, holding it for Scarlett. A tall man inside consulted a list, apparently verifying their names. He smiled, nodded, and then Wesley took her down a narrow hall.
The hallway was dim, opening into a large lounge. From somewhere she heard music and felt the deep throbbing of the bass through the floor. There were people scattered around the room, some couples, a couple of groups. As they walked through the room, Scarlett noticed a few of the men and women looking at her, smiling at her.
It wasn’t something she was used to, having strange men—or women—looking her with such frank admiration. It made her uncomfortable for a few minutes, but then she realized they were enjoying what they saw, that she was turning heads.
“Hey, stranger. Wesley, it’s been too long.” A woman’s voice carried across the lounge.
Scarlett turned, expecting the owner of the voice to be some kind of giantess. Instead she dropped her gaze down to a petite blonde woman crossing the room toward them.
“Stacy.” Wesley stopped and turned. Scarlett caught the smile of recognition on his face.
The woman arrived and rose up to plant a big kiss on Wesley’s cheek. He pulled her into a brief hug and then turned to Scarlett.
“This is Scarlett. Scarlett, this is Stacy. She’s in charge here when Chase isn’t around.”
“Hell, I’m in charge even when he is here. You know what it’s like around this place.” She turned her bright blue eyes to Scarlett.
“This is Scarlett’s first time here.” Wesley slipped his arm around her waist, his hand sliding down to rest on her hip, snugging her close to him.
“Actually this is my first time...” She looked up at Wesley. “My first time in a club like this.”
“Well, you’re in good hands.” Stacy turned to Wesley. “Any room in particular?”
“Is the St. Andrew’s room open?”
“It is. If you’ll follow me.” Stacy turned, giving them a full view of her back as she led them through the lounge. Thin ribbons crisscrossed Stacy’s bare skin, seemingly attached only to her skin. Scarlett gasped.
Stacy glanced back over her shoulder, a saucy grin on her face.
“Corset piercing.” She laughed. “Don’t look so shocked. It’s just play piercing. I’ll take these out in about a week.”
Scarlett wanted to stop, to look at Stacy’s back. “You mean those are attached to you?”
“Yup. Each side has ten captive bead rings, laced up with ribbon.” They turned down a hallway. There were archways along the hall, some covered with curtains, some open. They walked past a group standing by an open archway. Scarlett couldn’t see inside, but she heard what sounded like moaning. But her attention was still on Stacy’s back.
“Didn’t that hurt?” Scarlett couldn’t imagine willingly having someone put holes in their skin, especially just for a week. “That seems like an awful lot of pain for just play.”
Stacy glanced back again, this time at Wesley.
“You sure you’re up for this one, Wesley?” Scarlett didn’t miss the smile on her face or the laugh in her voice. Then she heard Wesley’s low laugh beside her.
Scarlett looked at Wesley, perplexed. “Did I say something funny?”
“Yeah, Scarlett. You did.” He took her hand and squeezed it gently, still smiling.
“Here we are.” Stacy stopped in front of one of the arches. With a flourish, she pulled back the curtain. Wesley’s hand was on the small of her back, and he ushered her through.
“I see you brought your own things. Is there anything else you need?”
Scarlett stopped, staring, Stacy�
�s and Wesley’s voices fading away. A huge wooden X-shaped cross stood in the middle of the room, bolted to the floor. Her eyes followed the arms of the structure, wondering how this fit into Wesley’s plans. Then she saw the restraints, leather bands with buckles, on each arm of the cross. Her heart began racing and she suddenly saw herself, strapped naked to the cross, totally at Wesley’s mercy. Her breath stuck in her throat. This was it, if she wanted out, this was the time to back out and leave.
But she didn’t want that. She wanted the touch of the leather on her skin, to feel the bite of the restraint as she pulled against it. It had to hurt more than silk did.
“Scarlett? You okay?”
Scarlett turned, meeting Wesley’s gaze. “I’m fine.”
“If you’re not ready…” There was nothing in his expression that gave away how he felt, if he wanted her to stay or not. But she knew her answer.
“I’m ready.”
He held her gaze a moment longer and then he smiled, dimples flashing. “Okay then. Let’s get started.”
“Do you know what you want to do then, how you want to play?”
“I do. But we need to talk first, about safe words, about what you want.”
“Okay.” Safe words made no sense, and she thought she’d want whatever Wesley wanted.
“Safe words keep people from getting injured. Pain is part of what I want to play with, but I don’t want you to get injured or go too far beyond your limits. So if there’s something happening that you want to stop, say the safe word.”
“Can’t I just say no?”
“Sometimes no doesn’t mean no, not with play. Sometimes no means don’t stop. In this context, no loses its meaning. So if you want me to stop, for any reason, say tap dance.”
“Tap dance? Okay.” It seemed a silly word, but as she thought about it, it did make some sense. “What else?”
“I want to explore dominance with you, but I don’t think you’re not ready to be a submissive. I want to push you, but only so far.”
“Alright.” She frowned. Wesley had skirted around dominance and submission all night.
“Subs are under obedience during sessions, like now. You’d be answering me with yes, Master or no, Master.”
For a moment, Scarlett wanted to giggle. It seemed absurd to call someone Master. Maybe he saw the reaction on her face or sensed how she felt. Shaking his head, he went on.
“We can be a little flexible with that though. Obedience and submission are something that takes a long time to learn, and I don’t want you hung up on semantics. I want you to enjoy yourself tonight.” He took a step toward her, brushing his hand against her cheek. With a start, she realized it was the first time he’d touched her since they’d come into this room. It made her realize how much she wanted his touch, and she leaned into his hand. But he pulled his hand away, stepping back.
“But I want you to try, okay? I want to restrain you, and I want you to be submissive. And I want to work with pain again. That sounds like a lot, I know. But would you like that?”
She nodded. “I would.”
“Then I think we should get started.” Wesley smiled again, the slow smile he’d given her in his apartment, while she was tied to his bed. Her breathing got a little faster, her heart skipping a beat. This was it. She was ready.
She reached for him, but he took another step back. “Patience, Scarlett. We go slow, okay? And you’re under obedience as of now. You do as I say, when I say. Understand?”
“Like playing the game last night?”
“Like playing the game. If you have questions, you can ask. But otherwise, no talking unless I ask you a question.”
“Oh…okay.”
“Sometimes that’s the hardest part.” She heard the gentle laugh in his voice. “Now tell me the safe word.”
“Tap dance.”
“Okay.” Wesley’s expression had slowly changed while he’d been talking. His eyes had darkened, his face taking on a dreamy quality. But his voice had that edge to it, the one she remembered from last night.
“I want you to step out of your shoes.”
She did as she was told, standing barefoot on the rug, shifting from foot to foot as Wesley watched.
“Stand by the cross so I can adjust the restraints.”
Scarlett walked over, standing in front of the large wooden structure. It gave her a palpable thrill just being close to the wood, having Wesley position her against the cross. The touch of his hands on her skin as he moved her legs apart, his body brushing against hers as he took her arm, holding it along the upright arm of the cross, all of it made her want to kiss him, to pull him into her arms, to start this adventure with Wesley.
But he was detached, methodical in his attention to the leather cuffs at her ankles and wrists. She glanced over her shoulder. The cuffs were apparently adjustable and Wesley was moving them up and down the arms of the cross, carefully aligning them with her wrists and ankles. She wondered if he was really interested in her at all at the moment. All his attention was on the cross, none of it apparently on her.
“Okay.” She stepped away from the cross and so did he, glancing once more at the cross. Finally he looked down into her eyes. For a moment their gazes locked, and she drew a sharp breath. There was no mistaking the heat she saw there. As if reading her mind, he spoke.
“Scarlett, this is a slow burn, not a flash fire. We have all night. No one’s going to bother us. This isn’t like weeknight sex, wham, bang and we’re done. Pace yourself, or you’ll burn out before we’ve had enough time.”
She drew a deep breath and blew it out. “This isn’t quite how I thought it would be.”
“It never is, first time or hundredth. It’s always different.”
Scarlett nodded. From what Wesley had told her, every time would be different, if every time he picked a different woman.
“Okay then. I’m all yours.”
Wesley smiled. “Then remember you’re under obedience. No talking unless it’s the safe word. You can ask to speak if you have questions. Understood?”
For a confused moment, Scarlett didn’t know how to answer. Finally she decided nodding her head wouldn’t break any of Wesley’s complicated rules.
Wesley took a few steps away from her. “Take off your top.”
Scarlett lifted the edge of the silk tank, pulling it over her head, dropping the garment to the floor.
Wesley’s eyes slid from her face, down over her bra-covered breasts. His lips parted slightly and he drew in the slightest breath. Scarlett smiled to herself; he wasn’t totally immune to her after all.
“Come here.” He held out his hand, and she let him take hers, let him lead her to the cross. As much as she wanted to be in his arms, she remembered his words. She walked to the cross, standing with her back to the wood.
“Turn around.”
She frowned, hesitated for a moment. “But I thought…”
“Shh…” He placed one finger against her lips. For a moment she wanted to open her mouth and bite his finger, or at least kiss his palm. But she remained still. “No talking, Scarlett. Turn around.”
Scarlett hesitated, then turned to face the cross, apprehension and excitement playing up and down her spine. The arms of the cross were dark wood, stretching above her, smooth and unbroken by any knots or imperfections.
“I’m going to position you now, just like before.” His voice was low, soothing, as he took one arm, lifting it over her head. She rested her hand on the wood while Wesley put the leather cuff around her wrist, the clink of the silver buckle as he fastened it almost musical. The wood was cool to her touch. But then she remembered what was happening, that Wesley was restraining her on a giant wooden cross.
Wesley took her other arm, working slowly, deliberately, restraining her wrist.
“Is that too tight?”
Scarlett gave an experimental tug on each arm. “No, I think that’s okay.”
“If anything starts to go numb, like your hands, or yo
ur shoulders start to hurt…let me know right away. You can say the safe word, or you can just tell me. You’re not breaking obedience if something starts to hurt or it’s uncomfortable.”
“Okay.”
Wesley patted her shoulder. “Don’t sound so apprehensive. It’ll be fine.”
Scarlett looked at him over her shoulder, managing a smile. “I guess I was just...oh, sorry.” She bit back the rest of her sentence. He was right; not talking was going to be harder than anything else. “Sorry.”
Wesley’s lips curled into a half-smile. “You’re learning.” His breath brushed against the back of her neck. If she took one step back, she’d be pushed against him. But she stayed where she was.
Wesley stepped away from her and she heard the sound of a zipper as well as muffled noises behind her. Then Wesley was behind her again.
“I’m going to take off your skirt now.”
She felt his hands on her hips, his thumbs resting lightly against the top of her ass. For a moment they stood like that, his hands warm through the thin fabric of the skirt. She closed her eyes, imaging what Wesley looked like standing behind her. Was he aroused, as hot as she was? If she took a step back, would she feel it against her? She was barely able to resist the urge to press back against him, to find out if she was right.
Slowly his hands slid back to the zipper. He tugged it down slowly. As he did, she heard him draw a breath.
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? And that’s a rhetorical question, by the way.”
Cool air hit her skin as he slowly lowered the skirt. It dropped to the floor and completely out of her mind.
Wesley’s fingers were back on her hips, caressing her, moving gently over her skin.
“I like your choice of lingerie.”
She wanted to tell him how long it had taken her to decide what to wear, but she bit back the words. Maybe later, after…when they were alone in his apartment.
“I didn’t picture you as a thong-type of girl. Maybe a matching bra and panties, yeah, but not something quite this risqué.”
A whole retort popped into Scarlett’s mind and she squeezed her eyes closed, all but biting her tongue, holding back the words.
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