C is for…

by L. DuBois

A shiver of pure arousal shook Beth as she lay on James’s lap, both of them seated on an elegant leather chaise lounge.

  “No, Master.”

  “I didn’t think so.” He nudged her outside leg off the arm of the chair, her foot dropping to the floor. The new position spread her legs enough that her pussy, which had recently been free of a multitude of clamps, was open to him. “But you didn’t answer my question. What I want to know is what you’re feeling.”

  She sighed. “Don’t ask hard questions.”

  He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’m not asking to make you uncomfortable.” His voice was tender.

  “Feelings are hard.”

  Master James stroked her inner thigh, saying nothing, but Beth could tell from the tension around his lips that he was holding back a comment or question. He’d trusted her with personal information, maybe it was time she do the same.

  “I have low Emotional Quotient—low emotional IQ. I have trouble understanding my own feelings and figuring out other people’s.” James didn’t reply, and when the silence continued Beth kept talking, wanting him to know this about her. “I’m better than I was. I’ve studied emotionality and developed coping mechanisms.”

  “Coping mechanisms like becoming a submissive?”

  “Yes.”

  “Numbers are what I’m good at.” She wasn’t even sure why she was telling him that. It veered dangerously close to talking about her job. “But I’ve never been diagnosed with anything other than low EQ. It was actually a roommate who first mentioned it. We spent all night downloading sample tests for me to take.” Beth took a deep breath. “I like rules and labels because they provide structure, but I never got myself diagnosed beyond the low EQ.”

  “Beth.” He cut her off before she could keep going.

  “Yes?”

  “It doesn’t matter. The labels I mean. You are who you are. That should be good enough—for me and for everyone else.”

  “I…thank you.”

  “And who you are…” His voice trailed off and he her kissed long and deep, her nipples tightening in response. When he broke the kiss, his eyes sparkled with wicked humor, his half smile promising so many things. “Is an orgasm slut.”

  Two fingers found their way to her clit, which was swollen and sore, making his touch all the more exquisite.

  “I meant to ask, is orgasm slut a bad thing?”

  Master James chuckled as he tumbled her off the chair, then followed her down, his mouth going to her pussy. As his tongue brought her to another delicious orgasm, Beth decided being an orgasm slut submissive was a very good thing.

  Chapter Ten

  “Beth, please come in.”

  James watched as Beth, in her street clothes, stepped in to the overseers’ office. She was wearing jeans and a graphic T-shirt with a video game logo on the front. It was not the normal vanilla-world attire of a member of Las Palmas, but if there was one thing he’d learned about Beth, it was that she was different, in so many good ways. The setting sun, visible through the large picture window in the wall opposite the door, added red highlights to her hair.

  Beth laid her purse and leather motorcycle jacket over the back of a chair positioned in front of the large desk Master Leo stood behind. James had been sitting in the other, but rose when Beth entered.

  Her gaze flicked to him, and James couldn’t help but smile.

  “Why am I here?” she asked bluntly.

  “Ah, Beth, never change.” Master Leo laid out two sets of papers on the desk facing James and Beth. “Master James asked me to draw up—”

  James cut him off, wanting to explain this part himself. “Beth, we’re done with our checklist items.”

  “Yes. We finished on Friday.”

  “And did you enjoy the rest of this weekend?” It was sundown on Sunday night, and up until an hour ago Beth had been naked and bound, his to do with as he pleased.

  She frowned. “I don’t understand why you’re asking that. You know I did.”

  James bit back an exasperated laugh. “Fair enough. We’re done with our game, but I don’t want us—” he gestured between them “—to be over.”

  Beth blinked, then a shy smile spread across her face. “You don’t?”

  “No.” James took the papers from the desk and passed her a set. “You know that I won’t use a collar, but at Las Palmas that doesn’t matter. Beth, I want us to be bonded.”

  Beth looked down at the two-page contract, a simple statement of exclusivity used to formalize relationships between Masters and submissives.

  He smiled, waiting for her to look up, waiting to see the happiness in her eyes when she realized that they wanted the same thing. Each other.

  Beth set the papers down. “No.”

  James stared at her. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

  “I won’t sign this. The best I could do is wear a collar.”

  “A collar is—”

  “A stupid piece of jewelry. This is a contract. Admittedly probably not legally binding, but still, I won’t sign anything giving anyone even pseudo control over my person.”

  James sat down, completely blindsided. “You’re refusing?”

  Master Leo started to laugh. “Sorry, sorry.” He waved his hand in the air. “I’ve been waiting to see her reaction since you told me you wanted to be bonded.”

  “You knew she’d say no?” James glared at the other man, who looked wholly unrepentant. “Beth, is this because I said no to the collar? I told you, that’s about me, my stuff. I’m trying to tell you that I want to be with you. Only you.”

  “I understand. But I won’t sign this.” She looked both worried and determined, the expression making her seem younger than she had a second ago.

  “Beth has to protect herself. She’s worth about twenty times what you are, and her major asset is herself.” Master Leo’s voice still held notes of amusement.

  James looked between Beth and Master Leo.

  “Let me rephrase.” Master Leo held up a hand. “She’s worth about twenty times what your whole company is worth.”

  “What?” James looked at Beth. “What do you do? I thought you said you were good with numbers.” Right now she looked like a geek girl computer programmer.

  “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” Her tone was flat but there was a tentative sparkle in her eyes.

  “I can’t even tell if you’re joking.”

  Beth smiled, showing teeth.

  “Seriously, is she joking?” James pointed at Beth while looking at Master Leo.

  Master Leo shook his head. “I will tell you that some of our members who have ties to the DOD or any of its major contractors aren’t allowed to go near her.”

  DOD—the Department of Defense. “Are you a spy?” James was trying, and failing, to make sense of this new version of Beth.

  Her hair brushed her cheek as she shook her head and he had to fight back the urge to tuck it behind her ear and then kiss her neck. The unexpectedly tender urge was not appropriate in this context—they weren’t in a playroom, weren’t actively in their personas as Dom and sub. But he still wanted to touch her, sit with her, talk to her.

  Dangerous territory. Especially if she’s a spy.

  “No, I’m not a spy. I’m good with numbers. I’m a mathematician.”

  “Uh huh.” James didn’t believe that for one minute.

  “I’m a consultant—I write algorithms, do some coding.” She shrugged lightly.

  “For the DOD?”

  “If they pay enough, and if I like the project. Sometimes other employers provide more interesting challenges.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “Why, what do you do?”

  “I co-founded, and co-own, one of the West Coast’s biggest digital security firms.” James tried not to sound defensive.

  “Military?”

  “No.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.”

  “That’s nice?”

  A little line appeared between h
er eyebrows. “I’m having trouble understanding your expression.”

  “This—” James pointed at himself “—is what it looks like when a man has been thoroughly emasculated.”

  She tipped her head to the side and studied him. “Emasculated?”

  “Perhaps we could return to the issue at hand?” Master Leo rapped his knuckles on the desk to get their attention.

  James opened his mouth, closed it, then ran his hand through his hair. With some effort he put aside what he’d just learned about her, which both made sense and horrified him—not the kind of work she did, but that someone with her credentials has been letting people use her as a footstool. “Let me get this straight—I won’t use a collar, and you won’t agree to be bonded.”

  “It seems so.” Beth sat on the arm of his chair.

  Ignoring all the rules of etiquette, he wrapped a hand around the back of her head and pulled her down for a kiss. “I’ll fight for this. For us.”

  She blinked a few times, her eyes shiny with tears. The urge to protect her filled him, but this wasn’t like with his ex—Beth wasn’t trying to manipulate him by acting like she was in need of protection. She needed him, just as much as he needed her.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked softly.

  “You’re going to do it the old fashioned way.” Both Beth and James looked at Master Leo when he spoke.

  Beth’s brows drew together. “What’s the old fashioned way?”

  But James understood what the other man was saying. He touched Beth’s cheek, urging her to look at him. “We’re going to have to trust each other.”

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  An excerpt from A is for…

  “My friends and companions in debauchery.” There was a hint of amusement in Master Mikel’s voice. “Prepare yourselves.” He pulled off the cloth.

  Four neat rows of silver letters were revealed—the alphabet, A to Z. Anna looked from the board to the overseers and back. She didn’t understand.

  “When you joined us you completed a sex, kink and fetish checklist. Some of you have updated it as your tastes evolved, others have only one on file.” Master Mikel dropped the drape to the floor.

  “Of all the hundreds of delicious sexual things on that list, many of you have only tried a few,” Mistress Faith scolded. “We will no longer allow that.”

  Anna swallowed. What did that mean?

  “Each of you has been assigned to a letter, and with it, every kink and fetish in that part of the alphabet.”

  Now even the subs were shifting nervously. Anna couldn’t remember much about the checklist except that reading it had made her crave a Dom’s touch.

  “You have one month to try your letter’s items.”

  “Wait a minute, you can’t expect us—” A Dom in the hayloft started to protest, but it was cut short when Master Leo held up a hand.

  “We’ve also become complacent in our playmates. Those subs who are bound to a Master will be assigned to their Master’s letter. Those of you who aren’t formally bound or whose file says that you are willing to share or be shared, may be partnered with someone new. Possibly more than one someone.”

  Anna’s stomach twisted. She was tempted to look around and find the tall, strong form of Master Jensen, but she obediently kept her gaze on the overseers.

  “Not every pair or group will be able to complete all items under their letter.” Master Mikel started wandering between the subs, touching heads and shoulders as he passed. “Masters will be limited by the sub’s checklist. The game does not give anyone the right to override a sub’s limits. You may not do anything the sub has not indicated a desire or willingness to try.”

  He picked up a lock of Anna’s hair and let it slither between his fingers as he passed. She shivered as he walked away. His footsteps stopped and he let out a little laugh. “Don’t worry, most of these pretty little things were quite liberal with their limits.”

  “Masters! Come pick up your envelopes.” Master Leo motioned and Gabriela, a pretty Hispanic sub, rose and disappeared into the tack room. She returned holding a box, the tops of the envelopes within scraping against the bottoms of her naked breasts. “Each of you will receive your letter, the names of your assigned partner or partners, the list of associated activities, kinks and tools, and your partner’s checklist. Those of you who have reserved space in the mansion for this weekend are expected to begin your checklist activities tonight. The rest of you should begin planning and make reservations.”

  A is for…

  BDSM Checklist, Book One

  Do you know your A, B, Cs?

  The overseers of LA’s most exclusive BDSM club have a sexy new game that all members must play, and experienced sub Anna has no choice but to participate, despite the fact that she is only months away from being bonded.

  Master Jensen knows who, and what, he wants—Anna—but when he’s assigned the first letter of the alphabet he must prove to himself, and the lovely submissive, that he’s willing to push them both to their limits, and maybe beyond.

  When Anna and Jensen are forced to face the depth of their desires, and the painful origins of their relationship, they’ll learn that the worst pain comes not from a whip, but from the heart.

  “A darkly sensual look into the BDSM lifestyle that melted my e-reader and my heart. I’m thankful there are twenty-five more letters in the alphabet.”

  —New York Times bestselling author, Jayne Rylon

  An excerpt from Elemental Pleasure

  Prologue

  The Grand Master sat at his desk and studied the files. Three people. Three lives. Their destinies lay in his hands.

  Leaning back in his leather chair, he let his gaze travel over the portraits on the walls—paintings of the men who’d served in this position before him. Men who had been called to lead one of the most powerful organizations in the world. They had taken their position seriously, understood the gravity of their choices. His decisions, like theirs, could influence the future and bring fate to its knees.

  The Trinity Masters were a secret society, as old as the U.S. sect of the Masons, but unlike them, the Trinity Masters were still a secret. It had been started by some of America’s founding fathers as they sought to replicate the networks and relationships that drove European society in America, a country that was wild and new. Hundreds of years later, the Trinity Masters counted some of the most powerful people in politics, science, the arts and even religion among its members. It was credited, though only in secret, for developing the relationships that had driven much of America’s success.

  Being a member meant access to people, money and power.

  In exchange, you gave them your future. And that future was the Grand Master’s to decide.

  He looked at the pictures again. A pretty, dark-haired woman. Brilliant, creative. An attractive, serious-looking scientist. Driven, powerful. And the final one, a soldier. Strong and courageous.

  Yes, he decided. All the pieces were there. He sealed the letters and prepared them for the messenger. It was time. Together, they would make a powerful bond.

  A perfect trinity.

  Chapter One

  She’d made a deal with the Devil, and now the Devil had called to collect.

  Carly Kenan pulled her scarf up around her neck. At home in California, it was a sunny seventy degrees, but in Boston, early March still meant winter. The wind whipped down Boylston Street as she stood outside the imposing Boston Public Library.

  Carly rubbed her cheek against the baby soft cashmere of her scarf. It cost more than her parents had made in a month when she was growing up. Those days were long gone, thanks to a deal she’d made nearly ten years ago. With her dark hair pulled up in an elegant chignon, a black wool coat, cream scarf and knee-high
black boots, she looked exactly like what she was: a beautiful, successful woman.

  Had it been worth it? Her success had surpassed even her wildest dreams, but it had come at a price. Now it was time to pay up. She wouldn’t know if it had been worth it until she walked inside.

  The city moved around her, everyone with somewhere to go, something to do. Another minute ticked by, but Carly couldn’t bring herself to mount the steps and face the consequences of her achievements. Someone bumped her, forcing her forward a step, and she hitched her designer bag higher. The man who bumped her, chatting away on his phone, turned to glare. When he caught sight of her, he stopped mid-word, managed a smile, then slunk away.

  She mounted the steps. It was something she’d done a hundred times before while a student at Harvard. A computer science major, the public library had always been a chance for her to get away from her electronics, and to honor the lineage of the scholars and inventors who had been trailblazers to the world she knew.

  And in her junior year, the library had started to play a new, secret role in her life.

  The grand hallway with its arched, illustrated roof was bustling with people, though the noise was muted. It was the hush of a library. The heels of her boots clicked against the stone floor as she made her way to the elevator. She rode it to the top level where there were fewer people. By the time she reached the rare book room, she was alone in the quiet hallway that smelled of books and secrets. There was a keypad on the door. She paused, realizing the Grand Master’s instructions hadn’t included a code. Surely it wasn’t the same one the society had used when she was in college.

  Pulling off her leather glove, she folded and tucked it into her pocket. As she reached out, she noticed her fingers were trembling. She curled her hand into a fist, willed herself to be calm, then pressed the numbers.

  333

  There was a click as the door unlocked. Carly turned the handle and let herself in, careful to close the door behind her. The code was the same. She wondered what else would be unchanged.