Hunting Truth (Orion the Hunter Part Four)

by J. D. Chase

I shook my head slightly, unwilling to rise to the bait—if that’s what it was. I had no idea why Scott took off like that—except for the obvious fact that Lucas was in a full-on rage. Perhaps Scott couldn’t understand Lucas’ overreaction either and wasn’t willing to hang around to find out.

  Lucas poured himself a generous Scotch. So much for driving me home. And me a Jack Daniels and coke. He then indicated for me to sit on one of the couches near the bar. I complied and he sat next to me. He took a long sip before placing the glass on the low table in front of us. “Okay . . . oh, where to start?” he muttered.

  “The beginning?” I suggested with a small smile.

  He closed his eyes and settled back into his seat. “Well, you’ve worked out that this is the club I frequented for a while, years ago, as I experimented with my dominance. I came and watched how D/s relationships were played out. I was willing to listen to anyone’s advice about how those relationships worked. I already knew that I was pretty open-minded and adventurous, sexually. And I’d learned how to control my temper by then. I was fascinated by the prospect of exercising control—both over my own actions and the actions of my partner. Throw in the kinky sex elements, and I was sold.

  “A few of the more experienced Doms took me under their wings a little because I was genuinely interested and wanted to do it right. It’s a massive responsibility, to have a female truly submit to you. I quickly found out that I had a good aptitude for learning and then I began to gain the respect of those Doms. One of them would hand his sub over to me so that I could ‘play’ with an experienced submissive. I soon learned that subs might look like they can be taken advantage of but that they don’t suffer foolish Doms gladly. You have to gain their respect, get to know them and their needs as well as knowing how to dominate a woman safely. It’s a massive undertaking but it can bring untold rewards.”

  I wondered what this had to do with anything but I was enjoying hearing him tell me about his past so candidly. He didn’t open up often so I kept quiet and just let him speak.

  “Anyway,” he continued. “I eventually struck up relationships with single subs. None of them lasted very long. I was new and didn’t feel confident enough to begin a relationship with an inexperienced sub—I thought it too dangerous. I couldn’t bring myself to do some of the more sadistic elements that were demanded of me. I was too aware of how bad I’d felt when I’d injured someone badly, remember. And that was another guy—I couldn’t imagine how I’d feel if I hurt a woman like that. I don’t think I could forgive myself.

  “Rough sex is one thing but deliberate pain from things like whipping and caning is a step too far. I wasn’t confident initially about causing any pain but eventually, I could handle what I thought of as pleasurable pain in small amounts, like nipple clamps and forced orgasms for example, and gradually increased my repertoire of those kinds of acts and my confidence grew. One of the Doms agreed to mentor me and was doing a fantastic job, but even he became frustrated at my inability to give a submissive what she truly needed. I could spank for example, but only to a point before I became concerned that it was going too far. At that point, when you have a submissive begging for more and you can’t bring yourself to deliver, you’ve lost her respect and she won’t truly submit. Word began to spread and then I met Ava.”

  “Was she the manager of Odyssey then?” I asked.

  “Oh God, no. The club wasn’t even called Odyssey back then and it was quite different from the club you see today. There wasn’t as much supervision and control as there is now. Not all the acts performed were truly consensual. There was no control over alcohol consumption and the use of drugs like Rohypnol wasn’t unheard of. Part of the building was little more than a brothel with women on the payroll and with no regard for their welfare or safety.

  “Ava was the submissive equivalent of myself to a large extent. Relatively inexperienced but keen to learn and do things properly. We were drawn to each other for that reason as much as anything else. Things were fine initially but, as I told you earlier, the same issues reared their heads. This time, though, it was me that ended it. Ava was keen to continue. She believed that I just had nerves and my confidence would grow if I steadily increased the amount of pain I administered each time. She didn’t know about my past. She still doesn’t. I knew it wasn’t going to work and I reasoned that if I couldn’t get past it with Ava, who’d been brilliant about it—so patient and tolerant—then I never would. She attempted to pursue me for a while but, as you know, I’m an anti-social creature so she had no chance. I hadn’t even told her where I lived, what I did for a living—nothing, and I’d only met up with her in the club so she had no choice but to give up.”

  Ah . . . unfinished business. No wonder she’s jealous of me. Perhaps she thinks that Lucas has succeeded with me where he failed with her. That explains her animosity toward me.

  “But Lucas, apart from naming Ava, I pretty much knew of your foray into D/s and why you’d stopped. I thought you were going to explain about Scott and what you’re doing back here.”

  He picked up his drink and threw back the contents. “I’m getting to that,” he muttered. “By that time, my business was flourishing and I was constantly on the lookout for new properties to buy and develop. It was by pure chance that I bumped into Jack, the Dom who’d mentored me for a while, about a year later. He told me that the club had closed down suddenly one night after the owner had been threatened with legal action after a woman had been tortured by a group of guys. The name of the owner was a mystery to all of us because a place like this operates in secrecy. Jack also said that he’d stopped frequenting the club, as had most of the decent members, because it was no longer acceptably clean or safe. All the owner cared about was money. So the regulars had decided to visit another club but as it was almost a hundred-mile drive from NYC it was less than ideal.

  “Then, a few weeks later, I was meeting a business associate for lunch and I ran into Ava. We chatted and the topic turned to the club. Ava said she found it too time consuming to visit the other club and, since there were no other reputable BDSM clubs in existence at the time, she and several other subs had taken to replying to advertisements online to meet potential partners. She conceded that it was risky and because there was no club and she didn’t have room in her tiny apartment for the required equipment, it meant going back to the guy’s place. The risks of that were massive. I don’t know whether it was because I felt guilty that I’d let her down or—”

  “Oh my God, you bought it. You own Odyssey, don’t you?” I cried. Immediately, the irritatingly evasive information that I’d been searching for but hadn’t been able to grasp popped into my mind. “Homer’s Odyssey . . . Orion the Hunter . . . of course!”

  He looked shocked but then shook his head and smiled wryly. “I should have known you’d make the connection. Yes, Orion is mentioned in the Odyssey, Homer’s epic poem and that’s partly why I called the club Odyssey. But also, in the English language, the word odyssey has come to refer to an epic journey and for true participants of D/s, they undertake a massive journey. So it seemed a fitting name.”

  “But why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

  “I didn’t think it was important. I don’t usually set foot in here. I don’t frequent it as a member or as the owner. I recruited Ava to manage it for me and she takes care of it. I own the building. She runs the business. Initially she worked with Carter to design the security systems and she consulted with Jack to ensure the club gave members what they needed in the safest possible way. It’s an arrangement that works well, usually.”

  “So why are you here now? Hang on, when I came here with Scott, I thought I saw your car—”

  “What?” he bellowed, jumping to his feet. “You were here with him? When? And why the fuck were you here with that loser?”

  I recoiled from his anger. I took a deep breath, deciding to remain calm and not inflame the situation further. “Scott mentioned that he was a member one day. It was after . . .
well, just after Joel had paid me a visit. I told Scott I was interested in visiting a BDSM club to see for myself what goes on so he invited me along. I only came once . . . well except for today, and that was only because I needed to speak with him after he’d told me about you and Ava.”

  “I might have fucking known,” he spat. “I’ll bet he couldn’t wait to fill your head with that pile of crap. He wants you, Issy. Can’t you see that? He’s just trying to split us up. I can’t believe you listened to that asshole. Why can’t you trust me? Don’t you know me at all?” He glared at me and I could see the hurt in his eyes. Before I could reply, he turned away and fetched the bottle of Scotch from the bar, poured himself half a glass and slumped into the seat next to me.

  “Of course I trust you, but Lucas, when I walked in and saw you here—a place you said you no longer frequent, with her draped all over you, what was I supposed to think? And, in Scott’s defense, if he’s seen you two like that, no wonder he jumped to the conclusion that there’s something going on. And you can say that there’s nothing between you and Ava, but she wants you, Lucas. She still wants you. You should’ve heard how she spoke to me earlier. She hates the sight of me, although she knows nothing about me. And as for Scott, if you didn’t know that he’s the one who told me that there was something between you and Ava, why the hell are you so pissed with him? You say I don’t trust you but you keep me in the dark. I thought I knew you, Lucas, but now I’m just not sure that I do.”

  He didn’t reply. He was staring into the distance but his jaw muscles were tight and he radiated with anger or hurt—perhaps both, I wasn’t sure. So I followed his lead and grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels from the bar and topped up my glass. I sipped it as I wondered why nothing could ever be simple or straightforward between us. It seemed to be one drama after another and I fleetingly pondered whether I’d be better off alone. But there was something about him. Something that prevented me from walking away. I’d never felt that way about anyone before. Never cared enough to consider trying to go the distance and work through any issues that arose. But Lucas . . . he’d gotten under my skin. Gotten inside my head and inside my heart. And when things were good, they were really good. I loved him and I wanted it to work.

  I sneaked a look at his profile. He looked desperately unhappy and, for the first time, the thought occurred to me that I could lose him. My lungs seemed to contract as pain seared through my chest and tears sprang to my eyes. In my peripheral vision, I saw Lucas turn to face me. I forced myself to breathe and turned to him. His eyes were wide and questioning. “Oh Lucas,” I whispered as the tears began to flow. “Why do things get so complicated? We’re fine when there’s no intervention from anyone else. I wish we could go somewhere and shut out the rest of the world and just let it be us. Together. We could be happy on our own. I know we could. I love you, Lucas, and I want you. I don’t want to lose you. Please tell me it’s not too late.” My voice gave out as sobs overtook me. Immediately, two strong arms were wrapped around me and I found myself almost crushed against his muscular chest.

  He held me and stroked my hair soothingly but he didn’t say a word. I was comforted by his embrace but I began to worry that’s all he was doing—comforting me because I was upset. He didn’t say that he wanted me too. Perhaps he’d tired of me misjudging him and genuinely felt that I didn’t trust him. Or perhaps his patience had run out with me altogether and he simply didn’t think I was worth the hassle any longer. Those thoughts made me sob even harder and he held me a little tighter until I had no more tears left to cry.

  He released me gently and tilted my chin up with his finger so our eyes met. “I can’t take you away, Issy. There’s so much crap going on here right now. I can’t even leave this damn building.” His eyes were growing steadily darker until he abruptly stood, bent over and scooped me up into his arms. Without a word, he strode off to the exit, released the door lock and carried me into the reception area. He turned and waved his key card over a security panel set in the wall behind the reception desk. A concealed door sprang open and Lucas walked through it and descended some dimly lit stairs. I followed but was confused and disorientated until I remembered my visit with Scott. The dungeon!

  Chapter Nine

  I felt my heart begin to beat a little faster as Lucas stepped out into what appeared to be a central hallway of sorts. Many doors led off the large open area that was totally bare, except for a console table on which stood an abstract bronze sculpture of a couple on their knees, having sex. The floor looked to be laid with glossy black tiles, possibly granite but it was too dimly lit to be sure. The walls were painted a deep red and were unadorned but they gave the place a warmth that would have otherwise been lacking in such a sterile environment. Every door was closed. They were black and shiny and I suspected they were made of steel.

  Although apprehensive about the general concept of a dungeon in a BDSM club, I began to feel curious about what lay behind them. The air smelled faintly of a heady scent, as though someone had been burning an incense stick recently. It was almost eerily silent.

  Lucas turned around completely and I could then see that only one door led off the wall that had been behind us as we’d descended. He walked to it and adjusted his hold on me enough to be able to fish a bunch of keys out of his pocket. They jingled before he stepped up to the door and I heard a key being inserted into the lock. A moment later, Lucas pushed the door open and we stepped into a room that totally took me by surprise.

  It was like stepping back in time. Dark-wood parquet tiles covered the floor, a large burgundy-colored wool rug lay next to a mahogany four-poster bed that stood in the center of the room, dressed in the deepest red, and there were various benches and cupboards, all in the same dark wood. It wasn’t what I’d expected at all. I was expecting something modern and sterile, like the hallway outside—not something that looked like it came from medieval England. There were no windows—we were underground—but it was lit fairly dimly by concealed lighting.

  I realized that Lucas was looking down at me. He looked distinctly uncomfortable so I smiled instinctively. He appeared to be wrestling with a decision but then strode purposefully to the bed and laid me down gently. He stood over me and, as he spoke, a playful smile was visible. “I may not be able to take you away and shut out the rest of the world but, while we’re in here, it’s just you and me . . . which is probably just as well, considering what I’m about to do to you.”

  My eyes flew open wide at his suggestive words. “Oh yeah? And what might that be?”

  He smirked as he took his cellphone out of his inside pocket and the tell-tale tune informed me that he’d switched it off. He replaced it then shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it carelessly onto the floor. His tie and shirt followed suit, then his shoes and socks but not his pants. The effect wasn’t as striking as when he wore those black denims but it was still incredibly hot. He stood over me again—those glossy, black eyes were mesmerizing and held my gaze. I knew every inch of his body and was only too aware of how gorgeous he was standing there, without needing to look. It was just as well because I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his smoldering gaze.

  Suddenly, he stepped back but did not break eye contact. His voice was pure sex when he spoke. “Stand up. Then remove your clothes—slowly—but keep your eyes on me.”

  My nipples contracted slightly at his words and I shivered with excitement. I slid to the edge of the bed, still meeting his gaze. I stood and bent down to unfasten the zipper on one of my boots, managing to roll back my head so that I could look at him. I fumbled for the zipper, hampered by my lack of sight, then I grasped it and slowly unzipped my boot. I slipped my foot out and wriggled my scarlet-painted toes. Instantly, I saw his eyes flick to my foot and mine followed suit as I suppressed a small smile.

  “I said eyes on me,” he growled, making me start. I quickly looked back to his face. His eyes were narrowed and he looked cross. I opened my mouth to apologize but he beat me to it. “Speak on
ly when instructed, Miss Prince. Let’s see if we can’t teach you some self-control,” he said, a warning edge to his voice.

  I found the zipper to my other boot and slid the zipper down—so very slowly. I eased my foot out and wriggled my toes, staring pointedly into his eyes as I did so. I saw his mouth twitch at the corner and something told me it wasn’t to suppress a smile. His eyes continued to bore into mine as I stood and took hold of the hem of my top. Carefully, I lifted it up and over my head. When my bare breasts were exposed, I heard a sharp intake of breath. I grinned, glad that my face was covered by my top. I loved seeing and hearing his response to my naked body. I almost shot through the roof when I felt his fingers close around my nipples and he pinched. Hard. I pulled my top free of my head and found his face inches from mine.

  “I said to keep your eyes on me,” he said mockingly as he released my nipples, and I felt I might faint from the exquisite sensation that flowed from my sensitive nipples to my increasingly wet pussy. I knew it was useless to point out that it would be impossible to remove my top and still look at him. Besides, I was too distracted by the involuntary clenching between my legs. I pressed my thighs together in an effort to prevent myself squirming under his heated gaze.

  Lucas looked on with satisfaction before stepping away and instructing me to continue. I unhurriedly unfastened the button and zip of my jeans, noting how Lucas’ expression changed to one of eager anticipation. Rather than simply taking my hand away when I released the zipper, I flattened my hand over my mound instead. I saw his nostrils flare before I trailed my fingertips back up to the waistband. He was breathing heavily by then and I couldn’t help but think how ironic it was that he’d asked me to undress slowly when he clearly couldn’t wait to see me naked.

  I hooked my thumbs inside the waistband at my hips and began to push it down. So. Very. Seductively. Slowly. I could see the tension in his jaw and a vein in his neck betrayed his increased pulse rate. My peaked nipples hardened a little more at the sight of his barely restrained longing. I covertly tucked my thumbs into the waistband of my little thong so that my pussy would be bared to him once my jeans were far enough down.