Identity Crisis (Blood Brothers #4)

by Manda Mellett

  “It was my job, Nessa. I’d have had to have done the same for anyone new that I was partnered with.”

  “I know that, but mightn’t you have been biased as you had feelings for me?” When I don’t answer, she continues, “What you said, about us being a family, having a baby. You don’t want me to go on active duty, do you?”

  No, I don’t, but she’s got to come to the right decision for the right reasons. Otherwise, she might end up resenting me. Resenting us. “It’s up to you, Nessa. Whatever you decide it’s got to be your choice.”

  Lying on her back, she throws an arm up over her face, “I don’t know what to do, Sean.”

  I grasp her hand, “We’re going to help you decide.”

  Chapter 39

  Vanessa

  They’re going to help me decide? I couldn’t understand what he meant, but Sean wouldn’t enlighten me further, and I didn’t feel any easier when he told me he was taking me to Club Tiacapan tonight, reminding me that Ben and Jon had said they’d be seeing me there. There’s something they’ve got planned, and I’ve no bloody idea what it could be. But beneath my concern there’s an underlying current of excitement, Sean’s my Dom, and he’ll be taking me to the most prestigious BDSM club in London. Just the thought of being in his safe, but very sexy hands is enough to keep me in a smouldering state of arousal despite the three orgasms he’d just given me.

  There’s a delivery late afternoon, and Sean hands me a package with a smirk on his adorable face. Taking it with some suspicion, I open it carefully to find somehow he’s had fetwear delivered. It’s a two-piece set in white satin and lace, a cropped top which will only just contain my breasts and a very, very short skirt. As I shake it out trying to see if it’s bigger than I first thought, a third item falls out. A tiny and very inadequate thong. Holding the skirt up to me, I can see I won’t be leaving much at all to the imagination.

  “Sean, if I wear this, everyone will be able to see everything. And I don’t shave.” I punctuate my words with a nervous shake of my head.

  The bastard laughs, “You’re as beautiful there as everywhere, and as your Dom, I want to show my sub off.

  “Shit, Sean. I can’t go anywhere like this.”

  His fingertips touch my chin, “Try, for me. Once you’re in the club I don’t think you’ll feel uncomfortable; you’ll be wearing more than some people. Remember Paris?”

  I do, and I remember how embarrassed I’d felt. “Sean, I…”

  “For me, sweetheart? Wear it for me?”

  “This isn’t exactly breaking me in gently, Sean.”

  His lips curl up, “Just try. If you want to come home, if it’s too much for you. We can leave at any time.”

  Biting my lip, I think, “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

  “I’ve no expectations of you, of our relationship. We’re feeling our way here. I don’t have our life mapped out to a pre-set plan. If you don’t like the club, there’s plenty we can do here.”

  “What about Mollie?” I’m grasping at straws.

  “Don’t prevaricate; Mum’s happy to keep her until tomorrow. We need this time, Nessa, as a couple. We can start being a family tomorrow.”

  No argument can deter him, so a few hours later, dressed in a totally inadequate outfit covered up by a long coat I walk into the place I’ve been intrigued by since I first heard of its existence. Nothing could have prepared me for it, certainly not the club in Paris. Oh, as soon as I walked in I saw the similarities, the nakedness, the way people were dressed. But here scene areas are set up around the sides of the massive room instead of equipment littered over the floor. It smells of sex and arousal , but everywhere is gleaming and clean. And, unlike Paris, there’s no full-on intercourse conducted in clear view.

  Leaving my coat in the opulent locker room that’s kitted out in the way that reminds me of the normal sky-high membership fees that I would have had to have coughed up had I not been employed by the owners, I go out to the anteroom to see Sean dressed as I’ve never seen him before. His long legs clothed in tight form fitting leather which hugs his delicious, tight backside. He’s got a leather waistcoat hanging open revealing his bare chest underneath, and he’s standing tall and upright. He looks every inch a Dom.

  Making my way toward him, I see a couple of women walk through the door, and I swear their mouths are watering from the once over they’re giving him. Quickening my pace, I take the last couple of steps and stand in front of him, my head slightly bowed, my eyes lowered to the ground sending a message that this man is all mine.

  Placing his fingers under my chin, he raises my head, and smiles into eyes, “God, I love you, Nessa.” As he takes in my appearance, he smooths his hands down my bare arms, his touch giving me much needed support and encouragement, “You're so brave.” Taking my lips in a brief punishing kiss, when he pulls away he nods, “I’ve reserved a private room. Come.”

  Tension leaves me on a wave at my relief I won’t be on public display. Excited now, wondering what he’s got planned and how he’s going to initiate me into his world, I take the hand he offers me and follow him through the grand open play area.

  My eyes flick in all directions as I try to take in the sights in front of me. There’s a bar along one side of the room, and my gaze lands on a couple of familiar faces. It’s Jon and Mia. As they see me, I feel brave enough to give a little wave and get one in return from my boss’s wife. As I watch Jon lovingly kisses her, and then stands and nods our way.

  A little tug on my hand gets me moving again. With wide open eyes, I pass a couple of scene areas, currently unused but being set up for heaven knows what activities. Sounds fill the air creating a background of thumping music punctuated with laughter, screams, moans and sighs. Eventually, we reach a corridor guarded by a man wearing an orange vest, the letters DM on his chest.

  Sean’s greets him with a one-armed man hug and a chin jerk. “All setup?”

  “Room One. As you requested.”

  “Thanks, mate.”

  Set up for what?

  It’s the first door along. Sean opens it, and with his hand on the small of my back, encourages me inside.

  The room’s larger than I expected. Red velvet trimmed tapestries cover the walls, each depicting various scenes of dominance and submission. My eyes are drawn to one, where a Dom stands over his naked and kneeling sub, his hand in her hair; the pose so loving it chokes me up. Turning around, another comes into view. This is showing a male sub on a St Andrews cross being caressed by his Domme. Everything in this room plays to the senses. Muted music is playing, and scented candles fill the air with a background of musk. The bed I expected to find is pushed back against the wall, a four-poster affair with strange looking rings attached to the supports, and more red velvet draping it. Black satin sheets are invitingly folded back. There’s a couch against one wall, a gold and red chaise longue, and along the other, looking strangely out of place, five chairs and a carved wooden chest. But taking pride of place in the centre of the room is something I’ve avoided looking at until now. It’s an odd contraption. The top part is made of padded leather and shaped as though to support a torso and pointing down, front to back. The legs and supports form a V shape with the point toward the rear and protruding from the front, two smaller pads sticking out at an angle.

  My eyes widen as I get a mental image of a body lying prone on the top, knees resting on the legs of the V. A person lying on that would be at the mercy of their Dom. A shiver goes through me as I realise it must have been set up for me.

  Sean’s giving me time to process, to take in my surroundings. Not once has he taken his hand away from my back, the warmth of his touch imbibing me with his strength. He must have felt me tense, as he answers my unspoken question.

  “A spanking bench.”

  “You’re going to spank me?” God, I wish this thong wasn’t so small. Remembering how I’d reacted when he’d spanked me before is making me so wet the tiny scrap of material isn’t going to h
old it in.

  “Come over here, Nessa.” His voice, so serious, makes me glance up quickly, but I follow him to the chaise longue. “Sit.” When I’ve obeyed him, he seats himself, angling his body slightly, so he’s facing me. He takes both my hands in his.

  “We need to have a discussion.” His intense expression and his words worry me. “Nothing will happen here tonight without your agreement and consent. You understand that, don’t you?”

  I nod, understanding that’s what the club’s all about. “I’ve got safewords.”

  His chin jerks up and down, “Good. And you can use them at any time.” Drawing back his shoulders, he pulls himself straight, “I need this, Nessa. “I’ve never been so scared in my life as when you disappeared. I never want you to put yourself in such a dangerous situation again.”

  “Are we having a discussion about my job?” My brow creases.

  “We’re talking about your recklessness.”

  I don’t see I did anything particularly wrong. “There wasn’t anything else I could do. I couldn’t let them take the baby, your baby.” I know I’m whining, but I don’t want to do this here, or now.

  “You shouldn’t have been out in the field. You weren’t prepared.”

  He’s starting to annoy me, “I thought, in the end, I’d handled myself pretty well when it mattered. I tried, Sean.” I tried my best. It was my first time working outside the office after all. Surely, he should allow me some leeway for that.

  “Sweetheart, you made mistake after mistake. But I’m not going to catalogue them now. Time for that when the others get here.”

  “Others?” I query in a shrill voice, my whole body tensing.

  He ignores my question and continues, “I’m your Dom, yet you caused me to worry. You’re still causing me worry as you’re continuing to deny what’s right in front of your eyes. I want to make you understand that your safety is of paramount importance to me. I can’t have you putting yourself at risk, time after time, or disregard the effect that would have on me. I love you.”

  Those last three words cause my face to soften, “Sean, I’m sorry for worrying you. But I didn’t mean to.”

  He nods, but there’s more to come, “Nessa, tonight may be uncomfortable for you, too much for you. If so, you’ve got a safeword. But this has been designed to make you comprehend both your weaknesses and your strengths, and what you mean to me. To everyone.”

  “Everyone?”

  That plurality again. What the fuck is going on? Just as I’m about to ask him to explain, there’s a knock at the door, and it opens. My mouth drops open as it looks like the whole of Grade A is marching in. Ben, Jon, Ryan, Nat and Hunter step inside. All dressed as Doms and all with identical grave expressions on their faces.

  Shit! I’m in trouble here. Rapidly turning back to Sean, I begin to ask him, my voice shaking, “Sean?”

  Chapter 40

  Vanessa

  “Hi guys,” Sean warmly greets his colleagues and mine. “Thanks for coming.” His tone is serious, though his eyes glow as he turns his attention back to me, “Nessa, we’ve exchanged our declarations of love for each other.” He pauses for a moment, reaching out his hand and lovingly smoothing it down my cheek. “I’ve invited our friends here to witness our commitment to each other.” His hand cups my chin, turning up my face so we look into each other’s eyes. “Nessa, tonight I’d like you to publicly accept me as your Dom. Your sole Master. Not for a period of a contract, but forever. To make a lifetime commitment to each other.” Again, he breaks off, studying my face before continuing, “Do you understand what I’m asking you?”

  My unease of the last few minutes drifts away. Despite being so new to the lifestyle, I know this is something big. A shiver of pleasure runs down my spine at the thought this man intends to claim me. Slowly I nod.

  “Say the words, Nessa.” A gentle reminder of the need for clear communication.

  “Yes.” As he waits, I remember what he’s expecting. “Sir,” I add in a hesitant voice. While I’m proud he’s saying the words in front of our friends and colleagues, their presence in some way unnerves me. I swallow a couple of times.

  “Master,” he corrects me, his voice commanding, but also soothing. “From here on in, you call me Master. Now, kneel.” As he gives his instruction, his voice is controlled, but has slight tremor in it, letting me know how earnestly he is taking this, and that he’s not unaffected by the situation.

  As gracefully as I can, not really knowing the right way to do this, I kneel before him, and he places his hand on the top of my head. Suddenly something appears in his other hand, a flash of silver.

  “Nessa, I have invited my fellow Doms here to witness us making these vows to each other. As I commit to you, I wish you to give yourself over into my care. To allow me to love you and to guide you in the lifestyle. It is my utmost wish that you wear my collar as a sign that you accept me as your Dominant. And by wearing it, agree to be my submissive?”

  My voice catches as I try to get out the words, not completely sure what I’m supposed to say to something that sounds as binding as any wedding vows that I have ever heard. Swallowing again, moistening my mouth sufficiently to get out something that sounds an appropriate response, “Yes, Master. I’ll wear your collar with pride, and as a sign you are my Dom, and I’m your submissive.” My heart is nearly bursting out of my chest at the idea of the relationship we’re cementing here.

  For a second he holds something within sight of my eyes, a gorgeous white gold chain which flashes in the light. Something I could wear every day without drawing attention to what it means to people who wouldn’t understand. After a brief glimpse, his hands move and I feel cold metal placed around my throat and hear a snick as a clasp is fastened. It a loose, not uncomfortable fit, and I can’t resist fingering it, a glowing feeling as I know this is as significant, if not more so, than a wedding ring on my finger.

  He traces it, as though admiring the sight of his mark of ownership around my neck, and then instructs, “Rise, my beautiful sub.” Then he holds out his hand.

  As I interlock my fingers with his and get to my feet, clapping begins. Ryan and Nat holler and hoot, and then our little audience steps forward to congratulate us.

  Sean allows the aftermath of our ceremony to continue for a short while, and then he puts up his hand, and at his signal, quiet descends. He puts his finger under my chin and raises my face, so once again, I’m forced to look into his. “Nessa, my darling sub. Before we can proceed with our life together, there is one thing that I need to ask you to do for me.” He brushes his hair back over his head, and little creases appear on his forehead as though he’s in pain. It makes me pull back a little, and his hand drops away from my face.

  “Sean,” I start, and then cast a worried look around at the other men standing in a semi-circle around us, but find no comfort there. They’re all wearing expressions as serious as his. “Sean, what exactly do you want me to do?”

  His eyes stare into mine, “Do you trust me?”

  My shoulders rise to my ears before I lower them again, then give a little dip of my head. I’m really not sure what all this means, but one thing I’m certain of, Sean would never hurt me, “I trust you.” My voice comes out as a whisper.

  “Do you trust I have your best interest at heart?”

  “Yes,” I reply, even breathier.

  He takes my hand and gives a reassuring squeeze, “Remember the punishment clause in the contract?”

  And here it comes. The thing he alluded to earlier today. I swallow a couple of times and manage to get out a response that’s just about audible, “Yes. But I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  Sean sighs, and once more his hand cups my cheeky, “Darling, sweetheart. The problem lies in exactly that. That you don’t understand what you did wrong. That you don’t recognize your own worth.” As I begin to protest, his fingers cover my mouth, “Allow us to show you what you mean to us. Keeping you safe is the most important thing to m
e, and helping you to understand your weaknesses and strengths is what we intend to do.”

  I don’t want to disappoint him, but I feel on edge. “Sean, I,” I look around the room. All five men are gazing at me earnestly. A shiver runs through me as I wonder exactly what they’ve got planned. “Sean, I don’t think I can do this.”

  “You can, sweetheart, you can. And you have your safeword. You can stop this at any time.”

  Stop what? Despite his tactile comfort, I start to shake as my colleagues take the chairs that I’d noticed earlier. They look like they’re going to watch. But what?

  Again, he’s gone serious, “Each of us has something we wish to say to you. To impress on you. We’re asking you to submit, to each and every one of us. To understand the worry and concern you’ve caused to us, to understand how your actions put you, and others into danger. This is your comprehension of events, and the way the actions you took appear to us. You have agreed to be my sub, to enter the lifestyle. The lifestyle that allows us to communicate in different ways than those in the vanilla world.”

  “You’re going to punish me.” For what, I don’t know. But that’s his clear intention, why he mentioned that clause. I start to stand, wanting only to get out of here. This is too much. This is not how I thought tonight would go. Ben had mentioned punishment, and I hadn’t taken it seriously, or if I did, I thought it would be just Sean, and that it would be a bit of a laugh. I open my mouth…

  “Vanessa,” unusually Ben gives me my full name as he interrupts, having seen my intention, and the way I start inching towards the door, “Don’t safeword out immediately. Listen to what we have to say.” He pauses, and nods at the men sitting in line, “We have expectations of our colleagues when we are working. It’s essential, our lives depend on it. The most important of which is that no one lets their partner or colleagues down.”

  “You’re saying I let everyone down?”

  “Didn’t you?”