“I think so, yes. Once.” I let a sliver of remorse slide through before I shut it down. Last night didn’t count. That was all about me. She’d been there for me.
“You’d better make it twice real quick. She’s primed, and someone’s going to snatch her up.”
“She’s too broken,” I say. Doesn’t he get it? I won’t make matters worse. No next time. “She’s not ready.”
“Kat thinks she is. She’ll be propositioned her first night out. Let’s pray she finds the right Dom.”
Not while I have breath. I’m careful not to react.
“Tell you what, I’ll set her up to view a beginner flogging session tonight at the club. Copter leaves at nine.” I turn to gape at him, but he’s already out the door, leaving a whirl of confusion in his wake.
Before I have time to react, my cell phone buzzes, and my heart leaps. The hospital.
“Jaden Stone.”
“Mr. Stone, this is the hospital calling. Dr. Gladstone asked me to call and—”
“How’s Sasha?”
The nurse pauses as if I’ve interrupted her tape recording and she has to reset. “Dr. Gladstone says Ms. Byrne is stable in ICU. They’ll keep her anesthetized for today and bring her around in the morning.”
“What time in the morning? Can I see her?”
“Dr. Gladstone—”
Would she quit with the fucking Dr. Gladstone bullshit? “What time?”
“That will depend. We’ll be monitoring her tonight and have a better idea in the morning.”
“I’ll be there.” I start to click off. The nurse’s desperate tone catches my attention.
“One more thing, Mr. Stone. Dr. Gladstone asks if you know someone by the name of Rayne.”
Rayne? “Yes, why?”
“Ms. Byrne asked for her in recovery.”
What the fuck? Sasha barely knows Rayne.
I turn my attention back to the classroom. There’s nothing I can do for Sasha right now. The three women each hold a riding crop.
“Crops are one of the most popular toys for impact play. Bend it. The shaft is flexible. Try slapping your hand,” Kat says.
The two Subs barely slap their palms. Rayne hauls off and gives her thigh a good whack. That has to hurt.
Kat frowns as she looks at the Subs. “Your Doms won’t be pleased with that slack-assed attempt. You can do better than that.” She turns the bright beam of a smile onto Rayne. “Good for you, Drake.”
I smile as I hear the nickname for the second time. It has to come from Dracaena. She heard me. I turn my attention back to the session. They’ve moved on to the floggers. Rayne seems inordinately fascinated by them. While the others go for the soft touch of the fur fall, Rayne samples the rubber and the rope falls, both of which can give a significant sting. Her eyes shine with excitement as she tests the heft and barrages Kat with questions.
I’m stone hard by the time Rayne plays with the martinet floggers. Yes, tonight will be very interesting, indeed. My head teems with possibilities; my heart says I’m walking blindly into a problem I don’t have the time for. What the hell has this woman done to me?
Rayne leans against the one-way glass separating the viewing room from the playroom. Her black mask covers most of the bruising, enhancing her regal features. She remains a mystery. Enticing but dangerous.
Rayne didn’t say a word as we took the helicopter from the beach house to Toronto, although the death grip she had on my arm gradually relaxed. Kat swooped her away as soon as the copter touched down atop their hotel. I’ve spent the last hour getting ready for this. Stilling my mind. Focusing on the play.
The viewing rooms at the Masquerade Club are as lavishly appointed as the playrooms. A large down-filled leather loveseat sits in the center of each room. Kat has them custom made to prevent shifting during even the most strenuous sex play. Recessed ceiling lights showcase black walls and draperies. The dim light doesn’t hide the tension shimmering off Rayne. She relaxes her stance slightly as I move beside her. That touch of trust gives me a little ping of pleasure.
“Hi,” Rayne whispers. She keeps her eyes trained on the scene in the playroom.
“Hi.” Brilliant, Jaden. “There’s no need to whisper. The room is soundproof. They can’t hear us.”
“Any news on Summer or Sasha?”
“Nothing on Summer. Sasha’s in ICU. She’s stable. They’re keeping her in an induced coma for the night. They’ll try bringing her around in the morning.”
“Oh, good. Is there anything I can do?”
I could kiss her for making this easier. “Actually, yes, there is. Sasha’s asked to see you.”
“Me? Why?”
“Not sure, but knowing Sasha, it’s because you won’t feel sorry for her.”
Rayne throws her first glance my way since I’ve entered the room. “Is she broken?”
“I don’t know.” As hard as it is to admit, I have no idea of Sasha’s frame of mind. I can’t relate to what happened to her. When I think about it, I feel sick. Then I get mad. Now is not the time for either of those feelings, and it’s a relief to talk to someone who gets it.
We watch the scene play out before us. The Dom’s prepping the Sub for a lesson in flogging. Unlike our viewing room, the playroom is sparse by Masquerade standards. The walls are a deep burgundy with black floor-to-ceiling drapes matching the ones in our viewing room. A display holding floggers, paddles, straps, canes and crops takes up the entire end wall. A polished mahogany St. Andrew’s Cross dwarfs the other end wall. A spanking horse and strapping chair are the only other pieces of furniture in the room.
“… what we most want to discover is your tolerance level. What is the safe word?” the Dom asks.
“Red, sir.” The Sub kneels at his feet, head bowed.
“And if you’ve reached your limit but want to continue the scene?”
“Yellow, sir. And green if I can take more.”
“That will be three additional strokes. Spread yourself on the bench, face down. Hold still and do not move.”
The Sub hustles to obey. The Dom fastens cuffs around the Sub’s wrists and ankles. He smooths back the hair from her face. “Where are we at?”
“Green, sir.”
I feel Rayne’s hot gaze raking my face, but the mask hides my expression. “Why the hell is he giving her three strokes for answering his question? And why does she keep calling him sir?”
“This Dom is very strict. He expects his instructions to be carried out to the letter and no more. She volunteered information he hadn’t asked for.”
“Well, I’d tell him to fuck right off.” Rayne sounds adamant, but the sweet scent of her excitement tells a different story. “Why would anyone want to be a Submissive anyway?” She gives me the definite impression she’s looking for permission to explore. Her curiosity belies indifference.
I move a little closer to her, so close I feel the heat radiating from her. She tenses but doesn’t move.
“Submission is all about receiving direction. Subs crave guidance and want to know the Dom’s expectations, especially during sex play.”
“Just in sex?”
“Depends on the Sub and Dom and whether it’s about psychological control or just play. There are Doms who want to take control of their Submissive’s life, but many prefer the lifestyle for sex play. If it’s purely for sex play, they’re usually Tops or Bottoms.”
We watch the scene for a few minutes. The Dom chooses a light, soft deerskin flogger from the rack. I move to the love seat. Rayne stays put, her attention solidly fixed on the action taking place before us. The Dom ensures the Sub’s restraints aren’t too tight and checks in with her. He tilts the bench so it’s at a seventy-five-degree angle.
“How many strokes?” the Dom asks.
The Sub mumbles something.
Rayne turns to look at me. “Why is he making her agree to be beaten?”
If she weren’t so appalled, I would have laughed. “He’s not making her do anyth
ing, Dracaena. He’s making sure she hasn’t changed her mind about what they agreed to.” I pat the cushion beside me. Rayne hesitates, then takes a seat keeping a careful distance between us.
The Sub’s firm, fleshy ass cheeks face us, her smooth Asian skin the perfect canvas for spanking. “What do we do first?” Dom runs his hand over each globe before positioning himself.
“Warm up, sir.” The Sub contracts her ass as if she’s been struck.
“And, why do we warm up?”
“To prolong the pleasure, sir.”
“Chatty, isn’t he?” Dislike threads through Rayne’s tone, making me smile. If she doesn’t like talking during a scene, chances are good she doesn’t suffer from verbal diarrhea herself. Nothing turns me off faster than a woman who decides she’s auditioning for a role in a porn movie while you fuck her. Rayne is not like other women.
I turn my head and laser my eyes on her. My gaze meets the solid wall of her profile. She keeps her eyes trained straight ahead, but her profile shimmers with disapproval.
“Not necessarily. Right now, he’s training a new Sub. Anyone who truly honors the lifestyle makes sure newbies are well informed about expectations and possibilities, especially during impact play. What we call training serves as a safe, sane and consensual way to build trust while showing the Sub the ropes. Why, do you have something against talking while fucking?”
“This isn’t about me.”
“You’re the one with the issue, and I’m curious.”
“Why, do you talk a lot during sex?”
“Now who’s answering a question with a question?” I let my finger run down the length of her back as I lean against the couch. One touch won’t hurt.
“That depends.”
Rayne shivers at my touch, but she doesn’t move. “On what?”
I slide a bit closer, gliding my hand up her back until it rests on her neck.
“Sometimes, talking serves to enhance.”
We sit in silence. The rigidity slowly seeps from Rayne, and she relaxes vertebra by vertebra until she leans against the couch. I rest my hand on her thigh, taking care not to spook her.
“Want to talk about last night?” Did I scare you? Did I hurt you? Why do I care?
Rayne’s head snaps up. “What about last night?” Her level of ferocity rivals my own. I see what Sasha means when she says my intensity exhausts her. Rayne certainly keeps me on the alert.
“Are you okay with what happened?”
She swivels around to face me, a slow smile bringing brightness to her eyes. Rayne’s smile transforms her, like the sun blasting through an opening in the clouds. She sits closer, but still not touching. Every new move convinces me she’s a Submissive at heart. For all her bravado and bluster, she seems inexperienced. Her blend of innocence and wickedness intoxicates me.
“It was consensual if that’s what you’re asking. Are you okay with what happened?”
Man, she is a challenge.
“Yes.” I’d had too much to drink. Not exactly my best moment, so that one-word answer seemed safe.
More minutes pass. The Dom picks up a thudstinger flogger. He pauses and rubs the Sub’s bright red upper back and buttocks while he assesses. The Sub gives the green light.
“That must hurt like hell. Why would anyone ask for pain?” Bewilderment rings through Rayne’s words.
“There can be great pleasure in pain.”
“How do you know? Have you tried it?” That’s the Rayne I’m getting to know.
“Would you like to?”
She’s quiet for so long, I fear I’ve lost her, then a quiet voice says, “Maybe …”
22
Rayne
Wake up, and get yourself together baby …
It’s a fucking miracle that I manage to sit quietly and watch the scene before us. Sex surrounds us. Even the viewing room smells of something musky and sensual. I love this room. The black furniture and red accents remind me of a den of iniquity in a romance novel. When I’m fabulously rich like I plan to be, I’ll have one just like it.
And this couch. Sublime is the only word that springs to mind. And all I want to do is curl up on it with this man. This man I just met. This man I barely know. This man who could be a serial killer for all I know. This is the kind of stuff that gets me into trouble every fucking time. I get all trusting like I did when ES said we’d be going to a party. ES always said I’m too fucking gullible.
But every neuron in me screams that Jaden is different. I know I’m given to flights of fancy; that’s how I survive. This isn’t one of them. Nothing in this man even vibrates an alarm bell. Being near him makes me feel safe. Oh, I wouldn’t want to be on his bad side in a dark alley, but I sure want him to be the one with me there. Sure he could rip me limb from limb, but I know with absolute certainty that he won’t. Yes, perhaps I am the fucking lunatic ES said I’d turn out to be. “I could split you apart.” Even though I know it’s a joke, his words send a frisson of electricity dancing right through my privates. He’d call them something else. He might make me call them something else. Excitement or agitation, I don’t know which, rolls through me like huge waves crashing against the cliffs of my confusion.
Mostly, I want to feel something good again. With Jaden, I’ve felt very good. Much as the flogging and Sub business interests me, every molecule in my body strains to connect with his life force, like a magnetic pull.
I didn’t know how to act when he arrived. I mean, exactly how does one act the day after? I’ve never dated, so I have no fucking clue how I should behave. Should I touch him? I can’t stop thinking about running my fingers through those silky fine hairs sprinkling his forearms. I sit on my hands to keep them still.
A frown creeps in. Jaden isn’t acting like normal guys. He doesn’t do what guys usually do—roughly pull me over and start slobbering all over me while they grab my breasts if I’m lucky. Yeah right, lucky. But not Jaden, he sits there all huge and quiet and sexy and maybe liking me too, just a little. And that’s all it takes for my mind to dive back into the gutter. To start thinking about what it would feel like if that were his hand on my butt. I blush thinking of his hands between my legs.
I remember what his cock felt like deep inside. I want to pant. Control yourself, for Christ’s sake. Breathe. Take even, measured breaths. Try not to seem obvious. I should be ashamed. Fuck that shit. He’s here. Right now. With me.
When I’m with Jaden, I forget about that awful last week, although the drug-induced fog I was in goes a long way in helping suppress memories. As it stands, memories of the abuse heaped on me over the years don’t haunt my days, just my nights. Sometimes, a drug-induced coma helps bury the nightmares too.
Now, here he sits, beside me, in a sex club. It should be the last place on earth I want to be. It’s the only place on earth I want to be.
I sit electrified—maybe a little terrified—as his hand rests on my thigh. What the hell should I do? I don’t know the rules. Should I touch him? Where? Jaden’s hand tightens its grip—not hard, just insistent.
“Stop analyzing.”
“I can’t.” I start my descent into the misery of my personal hell. Jaden lifts my chin, pointing my face toward the playroom. The Dom diddles the Sub … down there. I twist my head to the side, trying to get a better look.
“Take your mask off.”
“But—”
“It’s okay in here. It’s just us.” He removes his simple black mask. I don’t move. He reaches over and takes mine off. “What are you thinking?”
Oh my God. This is the most embarrassing moment of my life. I can’t say those words. Can I?
“Stop thinking. Just tell me.”
I clear my throat. “Why does he stop every time it looks like she’s ready to come?”
Whew. That wasn’t so bad. I refuse to look at Jaden. I don’t want to see the boredom if I’m lucky, downright distaste if I’m not. If I were one of those Southern women on the plantations in the movies, I’d be wringing
my hands in despair right this minute.
“Rayne.” Jaden’s command snaps me right back to attention. Sometimes I wonder whether I’m a bit—
“Rayne!” Danger lurks behind the way he said my name. Danger that makes me tingle down there.
Fuck. “What?” I turn to face him, mental fists raised in defiance and defense. I take one look at his face and shut the fuck up.
“As for your observation, you’re bang on. Why do you think he might not let her come?”
“You mean on purpose?” The thought never would have occurred to me. I mean, you just do it and get it over with, and that’s that, right? Why the delay?
“Dracaena, you can do better than that.”
Oh shit. I have no idea. Well. I drag the word a thousand miles in my mind. “’Cause that’s part of her punishment, right?” I’m triumphant. Jaden actually laughs. I deflate.
He chucks my chin. “You really are a delight, Little Dragon.” He brushes the pad of his thumb across my lower lip. By now, I’m gushing down there. Thank God for the invention of underwear. Jaden sits back.
“Teasing is not part of her punishment. It’s part of her pleasure.”
“Well, it would drive me nuts.” I have no idea how I know shit like that, but I do.
“Are you certain, Little Dragon?” The breath of his voice brushes across my ear like a shiver. My vagina and everything else down there clenches. Then he kisses me. Hard. Crushes those gorgeous lips into mine. Demanding. Commanding. Bending me to his will. I want to join him on the ride. So, I do.
Our tongues battle. His wins. There are times I’m happy to parry. Mostly, I just sit back for the ride. And try not to think about all the things ES would have to say if he could see me now. Ick!
Jaden pulls away and gestures. “Take them off.” His voice has the low, husky growl of a male in heat. I am doing that to him. Well, okay, maybe with a little … or a lot of help from the folks next door.
“Now!”
I’m compelled to obey. I strip.
Jaden sweeps his hand above the couch. I lie down. He drops a blindfold on my chest. I look at it for a moment. I look at him. He stares directly back, his eyes glowing with desire. Lust. Need. And maybe something else, but it isn’t violence or anger. This man loves being in this moment. I want to be in it with him. I put the mask on and lie back.
Rage (A Jaden Rayne Adventure Book 1) Page 14
