White Collared Part Two: Greed

by Shelly Bell

  He looked at her as if he could see straight into her mind. She squirmed in her chair until Jax set his hand on her knee. Remembering what he had warned her, she dropped her gaze to her lap.

  DeMarco laughed. “You’ve got your work cut out with that one, but I can tell she’ll be worth it. She’s dying to submit for the right man. So who is she really, Jaxon?”

  How could he tell she was dying to submit within a minute of meeting her? For once, she was grateful she didn’t have to respond.

  “I should’ve known you’d see past the bullshit,” Jax said. “She’s on my legal team. We’re here to figure out if anyone has any information about Alyssa that might be valuable for my defense.”

  His honesty shocked her. He must trust the man a great deal.

  Damn, she wished she could raise her head and see the men’s expressions.

  “I thought as much,” DeMarco said. “I’ll help in any way I can. I know she interacted with Mistress Casey and a couple of our sadists. I’ll speak with my slaves tomorrow and I’ll pass on anything I learn.”

  “I’d appreciate it,” said Jax.

  “Katerina, I trust you will keep anything you see or hear at Benediction to yourself. Some of our members are not the type you want to cross,” he warned.

  “Yes, Master DeMarco,” she said.

  DeMarco laughed again. “You’re a lucky bastard, Jaxon. She’s perfect. And don’t worry about anyone judging you for moving on so soon after Alyssa. Everyone knows you had been separated for a very long time.”

  The men stood, and although she kept her head down, she caught a glimpse of them shaking hands.

  “Come, Katerina,” Jax said. He placed a hand on her back and directed her out of the office and back into the hallway, heading toward the room she’d seen earlier. “Are you ready to start the performance?” he whispered, pushing a strand of her hair hanging over her mask behind her ear.

  “Yes, but I have a couple questions. What do the bracelets mean?”

  “The color indicates your kink. What’s your other question?”

  He hadn’t really answered her first question, but she’d ask him for clarification later. “Where do I sit?”

  He laughed. “Wherever you feel most comfortable.”

  She wasn’t sure there was a spot in the entire house where she’d feel comfortable. But she swallowed down her anxiety, wishing again she’d taken a pill, and with Jax’s comforting arm around her, continued on to the lion’s den, feeling very much like a sacrificial lamb on her way to slaughter.

  An attractive middle-aged woman holding a glass of champagne and standing in the far corner of the room stared at Jax and immediately stopped talking to the younger man in front of her. They both wore green bracelets. Dressed conservatively in a black cocktail dress and dripping with diamonds, she crossed the room to greet Jaxon with her arms open wide.

  “Cole told us to expect you tonight. We were so sorry to hear about Alyssa.” She hugged him as though they were long-lost friends and then loudly kissed both of his cheeks. “I admire your . . .” Seemingly at a loss for words, she waved a manicured hand in the air. “. . . wisdom in coming home to your friends. We’re here for you, darling.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” Jax said, tugging Kate in closer to him.

  “I’ve told you. Call me Camille.”

  Camille . . . Kate tried to remember a judge with the first name of Camille.

  Camille Joseph.

  Michigan Supreme Court Judge and wife to Miles Joseph, the founder of Kate’s firm.

  If Camille was here, did that mean he was too? He and Kate had never met face to face, but would he recognize her as one of the dozens of interns vying for a spot in his firm? Thank goodness she wore a mask and only Master Cole would know her true identity.

  Jax smiled extra wide. “Of course. Camille, this is my sub, Katerina. Where’s your husband tonight?”

  “Off with his young slut for the evening,” she responded, not a hint of jealousy or anger in her voice. “I’m sure you know Oliver?” The handsome man she’d been talking to joined her at her side. “I think I got the better deal with the swap, don’t you agree, Katerina?”

  Swap? What was she talking about? Did she mean . . .?

  Not knowing how to respond, she simply nodded, keeping her head lowered, and hoped Jax would come to her rescue.

  “Katerina is new to the alternative lifestyle. She’s been a great comfort to me in the last few days.”

  Oliver smacked Jax on the side of his shoulder. “Hey, no one here expects you to live like a monk, especially since Alyssa wasn’t.”

  Jaxon grew rigid. She waited for him to prod the man for further information, but he didn’t. She rubbed his back to soothe him and to bring him out of his near-catatonic state so he could question the young man about Alyssa’s lovers. After all, that’s why they were here.

  Oliver clearly wasn’t a Dom, so she could speak freely, right?

  A woman no taller than five feet with jet-black hair and the most exquisite mocha skin she’d ever seen strode up to them. “Sir Jaxon? I’m Mistress Casey. I was Alyssa’s Dominatrix. If you have a moment, I’d like to speak with you in private.”

  “Please let us know if we can do anything for you,” Camille said, lightly scratching Jax’s chest with her long, blood-red fingernails. “I know you’ve hired Nicholas, but I’m sure I speak for my husband when I tell you the entire firm is at your disposal. Don’t hesitate to use it.” She seemed sincere as she gave Jax another hug. Then she and her . . . Oliver . . . moved to the bar at the side of the room.

  Kate followed Mistress Casey out of the living room and across the hall into the library. Shelves filled with books lined three of the walls all the way to the top of the vaulted ceiling. Someone clearly loved to read.

  Jax shut the door. “Now, Mistress Casey. What did you need to tell me about Alyssa?”

  The petite woman shifted nervously from foot to foot. “I feel responsible for her death. I’m not a therapist, and I don’t have any background in psychology, but I sensed Alyssa was in great emotional pain. More pain than I could release through our sessions. I begged her to seek psychological treatment, but she refused.”

  Jaxon nodded. “She refused me as well.”

  The Dominatrix caressed the strands of the flogger hanging off her waist. “Then you understand why I had to end our contract. I’m a sadist. I’ve always been a sadist. But I would never seek my satisfaction at the true suffering of others. There’s no question Alyssa was a masochist, but there was something else driving her toward the pain, almost as if . . .” Her gaze dropped to the floor, and she inhaled. “She wanted to die but didn’t have the courage to do it herself.”

  The room grew silent as Jaxon processed the words.

  Kate wrapped her hand around his forearm. “Jax, may I speak to Mistress Casey?”

  “Since my sub is in training, I’m permitting her the opportunity to ask questions. Yes, Katerina, you may speak freely, but remember what you’ve learned.”

  Kate kept her gaze lowered. “If the pain you inflicted on Alyssa was consensual, how did you know it was too much?”

  Mistress Casey looked thoughtful. “Masochists receive sexual satisfaction from pain and sometimes humiliation. It may be from the acts themselves or from the need to please their Master or a combination of the two. You’ve heard the term ‘runner’s high’? The body releases a rush of endorphins through the bloodstream when it’s under stress. It’s similar to morphine and numbs pain. Every runner has to run a different distance to achieve that high, but at some point you have to stop or you’ll injure your body. Sadists help masochists experience the same type of endorphin release only without having to exercise. If I compare Alyssa to a runner, she’d finish one marathon and start another without a break.”

  “Did you see her after you ended the contract?” Jax asked.

  “No, but I called her a couple months ago to check on her. She said she was happy. That she had g
otten back with her Master.” She frowned at Jax. “I’d assumed she’d meant you.”

  Chapter Seven

  MISTRESS CASEY LEFT them behind in the library, apparently on her way to paddle one lucky pro basketball player. Jax paced around the room, dragging his fingers across the book spines, deep in thought.

  A dangerous darkness radiated from him. Kate knew he blamed himself for her death just as Mistress Casey blamed herself for failing to get Alyssa the help she desperately required.

  But you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.

  How many times had her father tried to get her mother to quit drinking? How many times had Kate begged her to go to rehab before she drank herself to death? By the time she’d turned eighteen, Kate had finally accepted that her mama would never choose her over the bottle.

  So she’d left home and never returned.

  It was a terrible lesson to learn at such a young age, but it was only one in a bucket full of broken promises and shattered dreams. She’d had Caden for support, but who did Jaxon have?

  Bracing his hands on the shelf in front of him, he hung his head and kicked the bookcase over and over, swearing, in pain and out of control.

  Jax needed her.

  By offering her submission, she could provide him some semblance of control. She kneeled on the plush, carpeted floor, spreading her legs wide open. Her short leather skirt rode up her thighs, exposing the nakedness between her legs. After debating over which pose to choose, she settled on the one with her hands clasped behind her back, which made her breasts appear larger than her B-cup. “Jax?” she whispered.

  As if she’d taken him by surprise, he spun around with murder in his eyes. His gaze raked over her, from her head to her open thighs, lust replacing the rage on his face.

  He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and stared blatantly at her aroused pussy. “Such a beautiful sight. I wonder, how could I possibly add anything to that beauty?” He smiled and tapped his cheek with his finger. “I think you require some jewelry. And it just so happens . . .” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a navy sachet.

  Well, her plan to distract him had obviously worked. What did he have for her? What would he make her do? Her heart thudded in her ears, and her body shook from equal parts of arousal and terror.

  He cupped her chin and brushed his thumb over her lips. “Surrender, Katerina, and let go of the fear. I’ll take good care of you.” He slid his thumb past her lips into the cavern of her mouth.

  She moistened his flesh with her rolling tongue, savoring his salty flavor. He removed his finger and crushed his lips to hers until she whimpered, her pussy throbbing with unfulfilled desire. She gasped when he yanked down her corset.

  “You don’t mind that someone can walk in on us at any moment?” he asked. “That someone will see your luscious breasts? I promised I wouldn’t push your limits.” He dropped to his knees and sucked one of her nipples between his lips.

  Before tonight, the thought of exposing her body to others had terrified her. Alone, she couldn’t handle the vulnerability of exposing herself, but with Jax protecting her, she didn’t have to worry. She could relinquish control to him and go back to the warm, floating sensation she’d experienced last night. The sub version of a runner’s high.

  “I don’t mind, Jax. Not as long as it pleases you.”

  He released her nipple. “Oh yeah, it pleases me. I want to see you in rubies.” He tilted the bag and deposited its contents into his palm.

  They looked like earrings, but she wasn’t fooled for a second. Those weren’t meant for her ears. Would they hurt? Did she want them to? Judging by the tightening of her nipples and the pulsing arousal between her thighs, the answer was a resounding yes.

  “These are tweezers-style clamps. Their bark is worse than their bite.”

  She held back her laugh. “You’ve worn them?”

  He frowned. “Well, no. But I’m told the pain is less intense than alligator clamps.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it, Jax. They’re beautiful.”

  All signs of Jax’s earlier tension washed away as he focused on pleasuring her. He caressed and tweaked her nipple, watching her face for her reaction. Smiling, he waved the clamp in front of her eyes, the ruby jewel bouncing back and forth, reflecting the light of the room. The clamp itself reminded her of a small version of a paper fastener with rubber padding.

  “Don’t forget to breathe,” he said a second before he applied the first clamp.

  Stabbing pain shot through her nipple as the clamp cut off her blood supply. “Son of a bit—” She clenched her teeth to keep from finishing the curse.

  Jax laughed, enjoying her pain. Only . . . it wasn’t painful anymore. Heat spread outward from her nipple to the rest of her breast, and the pain morphed into a dull throbbing. She moaned, her head dipping to the side as a ripple of pleasure flowed through her like a drug.

  He nuzzled the side of her neck, biting and licking. “That’s it, my girl. Give into it.”

  His teeth held her in place as he clamped her other nipple. Both of her pebbled buds throbbed in time with her heartbeat. She slumped, surrendering to the pain.

  To Jax.

  He sat back on his haunches and admired his work. “I was right. You look beautiful in rubies. I picked them out this afternoon while you worked on your paper for school. You were made to wear precious gems.”

  His compliments sent a rush of joy through her chest. “Thank you, Jax.”

  He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “You don’t have to thank me for telling you the truth. Now I have one more jewel for you. Up on your knees.”

  Arousal trickled down her legs in anticipation as Jax lifted her skirt and then tapped and rubbed her clit.

  Her pussy quivered and her thighs shook. Between the sweet ache in her breasts and his petting of her clitoris, she didn’t think she could hold back her climax for long. “Jax, I’m going to come.”

  His fingers spread her labia. He licked his lips and applied the clamp to her clitoral hood. She prepared herself for the pain, but it never materialized. Only a slight pinch followed by a feeling of heaviness.

  He played with strands of her hair, gliding it through his fingers. “It’s a different type of clamp. It’s not meant to hurt,” he explained, somehow reading her mind.

  What was the point of a clamp if it didn’t hurt? Her lips parted to ask when Jax smoothed her skirt down her thighs and helped her to her feet. The movement caused her labial lips to stimulate her clitoris.

  Oh, so that was the point of the clamp.

  He smiled knowingly. “No coming until I say.” His gaze settled on her exposed breasts. “Are you ready to take a tour of the club?”

  She heard his underlying question. Are you ready for others to see you?

  “Yes, Jax. I’m ready.”

  His pupils dilated to three times their normal size and a sizeable bulge protruded below the belt of his black slacks. He rested a hand on the small of her back and maneuvered her out of the library and into the hallway. Sconces on the wall lit the otherwise dark path around the main level of the home.

  “Everything is pretty normal on this floor. There’s no sex allowed anywhere on this level, but as you observed, nudity and fondling are acceptable.”

  They passed a powder room, a kitchen, and a dining room with a long table that looked like it would seat about thirty. She spotted a few guests throughout the various rooms, none of them doing anything terribly exciting. Two tattooed women wearing leather and lace kissed in the corner of the great room. A man wearing a white apron and chef’s hat stood at the stove holding out a spoon to a naked woman to taste. Where was everyone?

  “Jax, you mentioned the colors of our bracelets are assigned by kink. What did you mean?”

  “The most common bracelets are black for Dominant, white for submissive, yellow for switches, those individuals who are willing to either top or bottom in a scene, green for partner swapping, blue fo
r ménage. If you arrive without a partner, Cole or one of his slaves will help to find you one or two.”

  The tour brought them to a winding glass staircase that would lead them upstairs and a wrought-iron staircase that would lead them to the basement.

  Jax took her hands in his. “It’s your decision. Upstairs are the fantasy rooms. Most of them have to be booked when you arrive in the evening. Downstairs is the dungeon. So tell me, Katerina, what is your desire for tonight? Are you in the mood to watch?”

  What exactly happened in those fantasy rooms upstairs and how would they watch? Her breath caught and her pussy fluttered. She’d viewed a couple pornos in college and had gotten mildly aroused, but those were scripted, staged, and impersonal. Her body tingled and she couldn’t get enough air into her lungs.

  He laughed and tugged her up the first glass stair. “Upstairs it is.” They climbed the steps together, his hand possessively placed on the back of her neck.

  Kate caught the scent of musk and sweat as a few people passed them on the way down, their gazes drawn to her exposed breasts.

  She wasn’t embarrassed. She was proud of the rubies swaying from her tingling nipples. Proud Jax wanted to show her off to others in the club who would understand what it represented.

  Every move she made jostled her clit, sending darts of pleasure through her pussy. She felt almost dizzy as they stepped on clouds made of glass on their winding ascent into heaven. Without Jax’s support, she’d have tumbled to the cold stone floor below.

  At the top, they came to a metal door with a digital combination lock. Jax punched in a series of numbers. “Up here, it’s an all-you-can-eat buffet, only instead of food it’s sex.”

  A sliver of jealousy unfurled in her belly, but she had to ask. Not as Jax’s lover, but as his attorney. “Did you and Alyssa spend a lot of time here?”

  He pushed on the door and held it half open with his elbow. “The first few years of our marriage, we spent three or four nights a week in these rooms or in the dungeon.”

  That sliver of jealousy spread from her stomach into her chest. “You liked it.”