by Maren Smith
“Shh.” A warm whisper of breath caressed her ear as his hands settled on her shoulders.
Chelsea didn’t protest further. She bit her bottom lip, turning where he steered her and walking where he prodded. He never said a word. He was her eyes and her will, directing where he wanted her to go and leaving the bustle and laughter of the masquerade behind them. She heard the opening and soft closing bump of more than one door. She lost track of how many turns they made, how many long hallways he took her through. Soon all she could hear were their own footsteps and the hitch in her excited breathing. There was a strange echo all around her. Wherever they were, they were alone. How was it possible to be alone in a place like this?
The hands drew her to a stop and her giddiness intensified. Why go through all that effort to get her dressed up only to leave the masquerade after only a few seconds? What was he planning?
She heard the soft bump of the next opening door. A whisper of cool air brushed her face and shoulders. Taking the lead now, he drew her through the doorway. Stairs. There were stairs here. She felt the soft bump of the door swinging shut behind her even as he stepped down, drawing her gently to him. Feeling for the lip of that first step with her toes, she followed, holding onto his hands for balance. The air felt funny down here. The echo was more pronounced, and yet it was so quiet. Cold too, and getting cooler with each descending stair. When she reached the bottom, she stumbled a little because he hadn’t told her there were no more stairs. She got a little annoyed at that. Seriously, the Mr. Mystery treatment was great, right up until she fell because of it.
She opened her mouth, but his finger touched her lips again.
“Shh,” he whispered again.
Her annoyance slipped a little as his hands slipped down her arms. It was ridiculous how much she wanted him. Her heart fluttered when she felt a soft rope loop slip over her fingers and wrap around her wrists, binding them both together.
“You remember your safeword?” His whisper was so soft, so sexy, and yet it was a little strange, too. She barely recognized his voice. He might as well have been someone else. Chelsea shivered.
“Yes,” she whispered back.
He drew her onward, pulling her by her bound wrists. Something brushed her skirts, a piece of furniture maybe, she couldn’t quite tell. The silence had turned eerie. Or maybe that was only because what few sounds did permeate the stillness seemed to be coming from two different locations. Here, between her and Kade, and again from the other side of whatever room they were in. That had to be a weird result of the echoes. They were still alone, weren’t they?
“Kade?” she asked, the giddiness and initial eroticism of the situation beginning to dissolve under her growing uncertainty. She tried to remove her blindfold, but he was still holding the rope, and short of actually struggling, there was no breaking free. She didn’t want to struggle; she wanted to trust him. She wanted to let him seduce her with whatever scenario he had so obviously planned.
“Do you remember your safeword?” the voice—that was Kade, right?—whispered a second time.
“Yes.” She nodded, but she was sorely tempted to use it.
“Don’t be afraid. Come.”
He led and she followed, stumbling over her own feet, no longer sure who she was with. She wanted to get her blindfold off, just to make sure. Would he get upset with her if she did?
A whisper of sound, definitely not an echo this time. Someone else was with them. She could hear his movements now, the soft rattle of metal buckles being adjusted and breathing, only it wasn’t across the room anymore. It was right here, beside her.
She jumped when she felt another hand take her arm. They pulled her around, releasing the rope around her wrists only to bind them again, this time above her head into the soft clasp of fur-lined cuffs. She was being tied up against something. It felt like two planks of polished wood and padded leather, lying across one another like a giant X. She tightened, her breathing quickening, but she didn’t struggle, not even when they—there were two sets of hands now; two different men—forced her arms up, stretching them out to either side of her. If she weren’t so tall, she’d have been up on tiptoes before they were satisfied. The sound the buckles made as they tightened their hold left her shaken.
She should say something, stop this somehow. But there was still a chance that one of these men was Kade, and she wanted so much to trust him. But what if neither one of these men was Kade…
She had to look. She didn’t care anymore if he got angry with her for peeking; she had to know for sure who she was with. This wasn’t sexy anymore; it certainly wasn’t a game. In the pit of her stomach, all she felt was scared. Not scared enough to call the Castle safeword and bring all of Security running to her rescue—there was still a part of her that held out hope one set of these hands on her, caressing their way down her arms to gather up and pin her long hair or tugging at the fastenings at the back of her dress, really was Kade—but scared nonetheless.
She tipped her head, trying to scrub the blindfold aside with her shoulder.
“Now, now,” one man chuckled, his voice so wrong there was no way it could ever be mistaken for Kade’s. “None of that.”
He took his hands off her hair and fixed the blindfold firmly back into place.
“Kade?” Her voice shook. She was trembling all over now. “Please answer me. Right now, or…or I’m going to scream.”
“Shh,” the other man whispered, but there was nothing soothing now in the way his breath brushed against her.
“Go ahead,” the second man encouraged. “Scream away, baby. You want a rough fantasy? I’ve got no problem at all gagging you.”
“We don’t have a gag permit,” the first man said, solving the question once and for all that this wasn’t Kade. Fear, stark and vivid, swept her. She was with strangers, in an isolated part of the Castle, and no one knew where she was.
“Who’s going to know?” the second man countered.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Get her dress off. I want first crack with the whip.”
Panic swelled, so hard and strong that when it hit, it did so like a physical blow. Her answering scream warbled and the echoes, as it bounced through whatever room the men had brought her to, distorted it wildly. She barely recognized her own voice now. All she did recognize was the single word she kept screaming, over and over again, even after the speakers hidden around the ceiling crackled sharply to life.
“Cease all play immediately. Dominant, step away now. Security has been dispatched to your location. Submissive, what is your name?”
Chelsea didn’t answer. To her intense shame, she began to cry and she just couldn’t make herself stop screaming. “Onion! Onion!”
Somewhere above and behind her, a door slammed open and a chorus of heavy boots came jogging down into the room with them. Chelsea kept screaming, right up until a big hand seized the back of her neck, the blindfold was ripped away, and there was Jackson, his facial mask resting on top of his head, in all his masquerade finery. His deep and familiar voice was like a reassuring balm, “It’s okay, Beth. I’ve got you now. I’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re safe.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Chelsea sat in a corner of the dungeon, swaddled in a blanket, a cup of hot coffee held in both hands despite the big office sign on the wall beside her that declared emphatically (among other rules) absolutely no food or drink allowed. She sipped it periodically, usually when Jackson looked at her, but she still couldn’t get her trembling under control.
“But she’s wearing the bracelet!” one of the two men protested yet again, and as bad as she was already feeling, that made her feel even worse. This was her fault. She tried to get the telltale Mysterious Stranger Seduction souvenir off her wrist, but she was shaking so badly she couldn’t manage it. She covered it behind her hand instead and wished the shadows all around her were solid enough to swallow and hide her. If only there were a back door somewhere in this maze of alcove
s and kinky contraptions. She so badly wanted to get out of here before something else happened to make all this even wors—
The door at the top of the stairs banged open and down Kade came, boots thumping on the stone steps, his face strangely hard and yet smiling at the same time. He looked past all the security guards, stopping only when he at last spotted her. He took in the coffee, the blanket, the trembling, and then he turned around and looked at the two men, flanked by security guards and still protesting what had happened.
“It doesn’t matter if she changed her mind,” Jackson was saying over the top of their mutual protests. “I don’t give a shit what bracelet she was wearing. She called the scene, get over it. And I’ll tell you something else.” He pointed an unforgiving finger at one of the men. “If I ever hear you’ve threatened to use a gag on someone else here, I will—”
“They tried to gag her?” Kade interrupted. His was the oddest expression, deadly serious and yet delivered with a smile.
Holding up his hand, Jackson tried to wave him off. “It was just a threat. They didn’t even have one in their gear bag. Which is the only reason,” he added, rounding on the two men again, “that you two aren’t being added to the banned for life list and shuttled back to town!”
“You threatened my submissive?” Kade said, nowhere near ready to let it go. When he laughed, it was at once the most cheerful and most ominous sound Chelsea had ever heard. “I’m going to kill both you motherfuckers, and if I find out you laid one hand on her, I’ll fucking kill you twice.”
Jackson moved to intercept Kade, stepping in like a mountain between him and the two men who scrambled to back away.
“We didn’t know she was taken,” one said, hands thrown up in placating surrender.
“We didn’t touch her.” The other sidestepped to get more Security between them.
“Don’t make me have to sit on you,” said Jackson, intercepting again when Kade tried to go around him. He threw out his arm, catching Kade’s shoulder before he could duck Jackson’s arm. Laughing again, that same cheerful yet deadly serious laugh, he only stopped because the burly chief of security refused to be shrugged off. “Hey. Hey!”
It took a moment, but Kade finally ripped his focus from the two doms and pinned it on Jackson.
“Don’t think I won’t ride you unmercifully about it later on,” the burly security chief said, “but right now, she needs you more than you need this.”
Kade looked at the two men, then turned and stabbed that same look into her. He was angry. She turned her face away, unable to bear it because it was all her fault—the bracelet, coming down here, if only she’d stolen that first peek up in the masquerade, then none of this would have happened at all. She choked, covering her mouth with her hand to help keep her lip from wobbling and any more sobs from sneaking out. Kade was coming toward her now, long, fierce strides that closed the distance between them so much faster than she was ready for. She sucked a steadying breath, bracing herself to face what she deserved for being so stupid.
He was going to yell at her; she just knew it. At the very least, he was going to be disapproving. She squeezed at her mouth and clutched at her chest, already unable to bear it.
As if any of this was going to matter just a few short days from now.
He was almost on her. She sucked another stabilizing breath. His disapproval was going to kill her, but if she could just get through it, then—
Kade grabbed her, seizing her by the hips and yanking her right up to the edge of the table. He did it so hard, so unexpectedly that she crashed against him and the table toppled wildly up on two unsteady legs. She grabbed at his shoulders just as all four legs slammed back down on the floor and he, fingers digging into her knees, shoved his way between them.
“I’m sorry,” she gasped, but that was all she had the chance to say before he caught the back of her neck the way he’d grabbed her hips and his mouth came down hard on hers.
He kissed her furiously, crushing her lips, forcing them to part and sending shivers of misplaced desire racing through her. It should have been punishing, but it didn’t feel that way. It felt claiming. His fingers, sweeping up through her hair, gripping her in both fists; his mouth, bruising hers with his urgency and fury—he branded her, consumed her as if nobody else were there. As if nobody else in that room mattered.
He made her breathless. He made her want to cry all over again. The minute their lips broke apart, her tears began to fall.
“I’m s-so sorry!” she hiccupped.
He touched his forehead to hers, his own breathing hard, but his hands soft as he massaged the back of her neck. “For what?”
Having to show him that bracelet she couldn’t get off her arm was the hardest thing. “It’s all my fault.”
He tsked.
“I didn’t know!” she wept.
Pointing back at the stairs, Jackson snapped his fingers and his entourage began to usher the two doms and themselves out of the dungeon.
“I didn’t know,” Chelsea said again, pleading for understanding. “It just…it happened so fast…and I thought…I thought…”
“I know.” Letting go of her neck, he combed his fingers through her hair again, smoothing the long red strands back over her shoulders. “Do you think I’m angry with you?”
“Aren’t you?” She was afraid to know. How could he not be angry? She was down here with two men. She had come willingly. She’d let them tie her up. They were going to whip her, among other things, and yes, she had thought they were Kade, but what kind of excuse was that when all she’d had to do was steal a peek and make sure? She had ruined their night. Why wouldn’t he be angry about that?
He tapped the bracelet on her wrist. “Where did you get this?”
“A woman was passing them out to everyone in line.” Chelsea tried to hide the shameful thing under a fold of the blanket again. “She had all these different ones: Dance All Night, Looking For Group. Mysterious Stranger Seduction.” She sniffled. “I thought those were the names of the different charms. You know, like perfumes.” She rolled her eyes. “Liz Taylor’s White Diamonds, or something like that.”
He dipped in, stealing three soft kisses from her tear-salted lips. “A brochure to explain the bracelets was passed out at breakfast. You were with me, that’s why you didn’t get one.” He kissed her one last time. “I’m not mad at you.”
That was hard to believe. Chelsea shook her head. “You're not?”
“Do you want me to be?”
She shrank from him, but he wouldn’t let her go. “N-no.”
“Do you need me to be?”
Her breath caught. Her chest so tight it felt strangling. “Wh-why would I need something like that?”
He took hold of both her wrist and the blanket, applying increasing pressure until she was forced to let go and the bracelet on her arm was revealed. He made her look at it. All she wanted was to get it off her arm.
“Do you feel guilty?”
Her chest got tighter.
“Do you need my help alleviating that guilt?”
She was a grown woman. Grown women didn’t need anybody’s help alleviating their guilt. That was ridiculous. Absurd. She just sat there, staring at him in silence and feeling that dreadful Mysterious Stranger charm branding its touch into her arm
Kade held out his hand, palm up, waiting.
Again, her chest tightened. “What are you going to do?”
“You know exactly what I’m going to do.” His hand remained steady, open, waiting without pressuring for her to decide.
She couldn’t move. “Is it going to hurt?”
“Yes.” He said it simply and without regret.
Chelsea stared at his hand, an awful prickling sensation moving down the small of her back to crawl across her bottom and thighs. She didn’t want him to hurt her, but in the end, her hand just seemed to make the choice for her. She reached for his, but just before her fingers slipped into his palm, Kade pulled away. His open
hand ducked out from under her palm and reasserted itself, still open for her to accept, above her own.
“I am not angry with you in any way,” he said. “Do you understand that?”
Reluctantly, Chelsea nodded. And she did, though for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why. She again tried to take his hand, but again, he pulled away, placing his open hand in the air above her own.
“Do you understand that I don’t blame you for what happened?” His dark eyes stared deep into hers, unblinking, unwavering.
“Yes.” But her voice trembled when she said it, because she didn’t believe it. Not really. Not when she was so very much to blame. Every bit as responsible, maybe even more so than the two men who were only following the rules of the game. She had advertised herself, whether she’d known she was doing it or not. They had simply responded. How then could she be blameless?
Tipping his head, Kade stared at her, into her, through her. His open hand became a single finger. He didn’t shake it at her. He simply pointed and held it just off the tip of her nose. “Remember you said that, because I guarantee I will.”
This time when she reached for his hand, he did not pull away. He waited while she slid down off the table. With the back lacings of her dress already undone, she had to hold the corseted front pressed tight over her breasts to keep it from falling right off her while Kade led her deeper into the dungeon, past furniture that in spite of all its padding looked as if it would be equally at home in a torture chamber. Wooden horses, suspension hooks, huge crosses and Xs, tables and sex swings, pillars and benches. It was to one of these benches that Kade took her. She expected him to sit down, but he didn’t. He pointed instead.
“Bend,” he told her.
Chelsea stared at the black leather padding for a long time before she gathered her courage and her skirts and lay herself down over the top. Bending, Kade helped to bare her, lifting the long skirt of her gown up over her back. Her lack of underwear was felt in the breeze that caressed up the backs of her legs. The garter straps strained over the curves of her buttocks, pulling at her thigh-high stockings.
