by Linzi Basset
Nolan shook his head, and Colt’s cheeks bulged with anger.
“Damn it, Nolan! You’re a fucking Dom. You should know better than to allow a sub to manipulate a scene, and so should Darren and John for that matter. Has anyone bothered investigating her desire to be whipped into oblivion without being sexually aroused?”
Nolan’s cheeks flushed as he realized that Colt was correct. He frowned as another thought came to mind.
“She also never wants aftercare and leaves immediately once the scene is done. Fuck, you’re right, Colt. I’ll go and–”
“–No. I’ll go.”
Anger boiled inside Colt. The closer he got to The Baron Room, the angrier he became. His stride lengthened at the thought of what was taking place behind that door.
“Enough!” he thundered, as he stepped inside the room.
With tense expressions contorting their faces, the two doms quickly moved away from the bed. Colt realized that they hadn’t enjoyed the scene either. Even a sadist needed to feel a connection with the sub. Subs they scened with were always masochists. This sub clearly wasn’t.
Colt’s glare promised retribution as he waved them toward the door. His voice sounded ominous, “I will deal with the two of you later.”
“Master Dom, it’s what she–”
The dark look in Colt’s eyes warned them not to pursue that line of defense and prompted them to leave flustered.
Colt didn’t move at first, but instead quietly watched the woman shuddering and sobbing on the bed. Red welts covered her back, buttocks, and thighs while her hands and feet twitched in the bindings.
He stepped closer, traced a finger over the slope of her buttocks and noticed a tattoo of three butterflies in various sizes at the base of her spine. The innocence and beauty of the butterflies in flight was in stark contrast to the angry welts rising and thickening all over her back. Her skin twitched beneath his touch as an angry wail burned his ears when he brushed his hand past her panties and inserted his index finger deep into her pussy. The dryness he found there proved that she didn’t need pain to become sexually aroused as was the case with masochists. She needed the pain as a conduit for something else.
“What the fuck are you doing? You know that’s not part of the scene,” the woman sobbed in a husky voice, racked with pain.
“Yes, so I’ve been told. I want to know why not.”
Her head swung around; her eyes blazed angrily through the lace of the mask that she wore to hide her identity.
“Just who the hell are you?”
“Quite a filthy mouth you have, sub. Now answer my question.”
“I don’t have to tell you shit. I didn’t agree on this scene with you. Un-fucking tie me!”
Colt’s eyes narrowed, his anger slowly dissipating to make room for curiosity about what drove this intriguing woman to be subjected to so much pain. She was tall with a beautifully proportioned body. From what he could see of her face, she was exquisite, with delicate features and an enticing, pouty mouth. Reaching out, he fingered the black hair framing her face. It was a wig. Not unusual. Not at Club Wicked Cove.
The club was exclusive to members who had received a personal invitation after passing a series of background checks. An attorney in the city handled all the applications and legal processes that were required to become a member. They also maintained the only records of the member’s real identities.
The mystique of the club drew people like bees to honey. Masks were compulsory, offering members and the club protection. Most females preferred to wear wigs as an added layer of disguise to further protect themselves from being recognized. Club members only removed their masks in the privacy of the playrooms once both parties involved had agreed. To date, no one had broken the rules in the ten years that the club had been operating.
Aware of the furious eyes following his every move, Colt moved toward the bureau in the corner of the large room.
“I told you to untie me! If you don’t, I’m going to scream this whole place down.”
“Go ahead, my pet. All these rooms are soundproof. But, why don’t I just spare you the effort? Red. I’m calling red to this scene. There. See how simple it is? Something, you should’ve done ages ago.”
She eyed him as he walked back to the bed with a tube of salve in his hand.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to smooth some arnica mixed with a soothing cream on all your welts.”
“No! I don’t want it! I need to feel . . . just get away from me and leave me alone! Better yet, send the Doms back to finish the scene!”
“I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen. What’s your name?”
“Stop! I don’t wanoooww!”
Her angry retort ended in a painful cry as Colt smoothed the gel all over her back, buttocks and thighs. He didn’t stop until every welt was covered with a thick layer of balm. By the time he finished, her body was trembling. He sat down next to her on the bed and brushed his large hand up and down her legs.
“Ta-take your hands off me.”
“What do you call yourself here?”
“It’s none of your business. Now untie me so I can leave.”
“You’re not going anywhere until I have answers.”
“You have no right to pry into my personal life. I’m a legitimate member of this club and I can come here for my own particular brand of kink, which you’ve just interrupted.”
“You didn’t come here for kink, kitten. You asked for a brutal beating, and from what I hear, it’s all you ask for every time. You’re clearly not a masochist, so what you’re asking for is nothing but your own personal abuse.”
“Fuck you! Now untie me or–”
“–Or what? Know this, kitten: it is in my power to have you thrown out of this club, and once I’ve done that, you’ll never set foot in here again.”
His terse admonishment subdued her petulant behavior immediately.
“You . . . you can’t do that.”
“Oh, but I can. Now, let’s try it again, shall we?”
Colt continued to brush his hand over her legs, feeling her quiver under his touch. His eyes narrowed as he caught a whiff of her arousal. A honey-sweet, spicy smell.
Hmm, seems the little sub is not all that immune to a man’s touch.
“What do you call yourself in here?”
It was another layer of the mystique that all members chose a “club” name for themselves. Something with which they had a lot of fun, whether it be a mythical Gothic persona or animal or name.
“Lady Silver.”
“Hmm, I can’t see the connection, but very well, Silver. I’m Master Dom.”
Her breath caught in her throat when she realized it was the club owner that was lazily caressing her leg, stimulating a response from her body that she refused to acknowledge.
A Master Dom in the lifestyle was the one that guided, mentored and ruled all the other doms, which meant that he was very powerful and experienced. Silver had sensed his commanding presence the moment he entered the room.
“So you’re the owner of the club and the Master of Doms. What’s your name?”
“That is the name by which I am known.”
“Then please, Master Dom, would you untie me?” Silver tried a polite appeal this time through clenched teeth.
“Not yet. I want you tell me why you feel the need to be whipped and flogged to the edge of endurance.”
“I . . . you can’t hold me here against my will, nor can you make me tell you anything.”
“No, I guess I can’t, but know this, Silver. From now on, I’ll be the only dom with whom you’ll be able to scene.”
Her head snapped around. The glare that flashed through the black lace at him was enough to immolate him on the spot.
“No. It’s my choice with whom I scene.”
“Yes. That’s true. But I’m your only choice now. Remember that before you set foot in here again.”
“You . . . you’re a f
ucking bastard!” Silver hissed at the black mask that covered his face. How she would love to know what he looked like. If only so that she could run him over if she saw him in town. However, she wondered briefly, if she would be able to remember anything at all about him the next morning with the thudding ache of corporeal pain that clouded her mind.
“I’ve heard this numerous times before.”
“Since you’ve made it clear my scene is over, I wish to leave. Please untie me, Master Dom.”
Colt watched her for several moments. He knew she wasn’t going to relent. With a sigh, he reached for the bindings and quickly untied her. An involuntary gasp escaped through her lips as the welts stung deeply into her back when she rose from the bed. She ignored the angry expression on Colt’s face as she made her way toward the sofa to fetch her clothes.
“Stay. I’ll get them,” he said in a low growl, stopping her in her tracks. She retracted her steps and lowered herself slowly back on the bed, careful not to twist too much and cause herself more discomfort.
Through a haze of pain she resisted at first but eventually relented and allowed him to assist her to dress. She was too angry to be embarrassed. Not that it mattered. It was clear that he was unmoved by her nakedness.
Colt escorted her to the outer door. With a nod in his direction, she turned to go, but a hand on her elbow stayed her.
“Remember what I said, Lady Silver. The next time you arrive here it will be with the knowledge that I’m the only one that will scene with you.”
She nodded then turned away, only to be stopped once more as his guttural voice continued, “And it will be under my rules and my conditions.”
“That’s not . . .”
His final reminder effectively disabused her of any thought of further insubordination and left her with no other choice but to turn and walk away. Colt stood and watched until she disappeared around the corner of the public restaurant, Flamingo’s Inn, wondering if he would see her again.
A deep frown etched his brow as he walked back into the club, pondering the complex woman that had just left. There was a demon inhabiting her soul - consuming her. On a guess, he thought it was guilt.
He had every intention of finding out exactly what haunted her.
If you want to read more, this book is available in E-book and Paperback here:
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Books Written as Linzi Basset
Club Devil’s Cove Series
His Devil’s Desire – Book 1
His Devil’s Heat – Book 2
Club Wicked Cove Series
Desperation: Ceejay’s Absolution–Book 1
Desperation: Colt’s Acquittal – Book 2
Exploration: Nolan’s Regret – Book 3
Merciful: Seth’s Revenge – Book 4
Claimed: Parnell’s Gift – Book 5
Decadent: Kent’s Desire – Book 6
Club Alpha Cove Series
His FBI Sub – Book 1
His Ice Baby Sub – Book 2
His Vanilla Sub – Book 3
His Fiery Sub – Book 4
His Sassy Sub – Book 5
Their Bold Sub – Book 6
His Brazen Sub – Book 7
His Defiant Sub – Book 8
His Forever Sub – Book 9
His Cherished Sub – Book 10
For Amy – Their Beloved Sub – Book 11
Their Sub Novella Series
No Option – Book 1
Done For – Book 2
For This – Book 3
Their Command Novella Series
Say Yes – Book 1
Say Please – Book 2
Say Master – Book 3
Paranormal Books
The Flame Dragon King - Metallic Dragons #1
Slade: The First Touch
Azriel: Angel of Destruction
Romance Suspense
Caught Series
Caught in Between
Caught in His Web
The Tycoon Series
The Tycoon and His Honey Pot
The Tycoon’s Blondie
The Tycoon’s Mechanic
Standalone Titles
Her Prada Cowboy
Never Leave Me, Baby
Now is Our Time
The Wildcat that Tamed the Tycoon
The Poet’s Lover
Sarah: The Life of Me
Christmas Story Novella
Her Santa Dom
Books Co-Written as Isabel James
The White Pearl Series
Double Shot Espresso – Book 1
The Crow’s Nest – Book 2
The White Pearl – Boxset
Christmas Story Novella
Santa’s Kiss
Poetry Bundle by
Linzi Basset & James Calderaro
Love Unbound - Poems of the Heart
About the Author
“Isn’t it a universal truth that it’s our singular experiences and passion, for whatever thing or things, which molds us all into the individuals we become? Whether it's hidden in the depths of our soul or exposed for all to see?”
Linzi Basset is a South African born animal rights supporter with a poet’s heart, and she is also a bestselling fiction writer of suspense filled romance erotica books; who as the latter, refuses to be bound to any one sub-genre. She prefers instead to stretch herself as a storyteller which has resulted in her researching and writing historical and even paranormal themed works.
Her initial offering: Club Alpha Cove, a BDSM club suspense series released back in 2015, reached Amazon’s Bestseller list, and she has been on those lists ever since. Labelling her as prolific is a gross understatement as just a few short years later she has now been published thirty-nine times; a total which fails to take into account the three other published works of her alter ego: Isabel James who co-authors—nor does it include the five additional new works marked for imminent release.
“I write from the inside out. My stories are both inside me and a part of me so it can be either pleasurable to release them or painful to carve them out. I live every moment of every story I write. So, if you're looking for spicy and suspenseful, I'm your girl . . . woman . . . writer . . . you know what I mean!"
Linzi believes that by telling stories in her own voice, she can better share with her readers the essence of her being: her passionate nature; her motivations; and her wildest fantasies. She feels every touch as she writes, every kiss, every harsh word uttered, and this to her is the key to a never-ending love of writing.
Ultimately, all books by Linzi Basset are about passion. To her, passion is the driving force of all emotion; whether it be lust, desire, hate, trust, or love. This is the underlying message contained in her books. Her advice: “Believe in the passions driving your desires; live them; enjoy them; and allow them to bring you happiness.”
Stalk Me
Well, if you’d like to go and look me up, I need to remind you that I―and my nom de plume, Isabel James―are completely stalkable or as someone said, intensely researchable! Don’t be shy, follow any of these links!
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