As if he knew what she was after, he bumped her hip, leaving no doubt that he was hard at all. It still didn’t answer the question of how big he was, or how deeply he could take her. But she could tell that he wasn’t small.
My God, I’m losing my mind. But she couldn’t stop from thinking about it. Even the swats he kept giving her and the fingers sliding across the sensitive nerves in her pussy didn’t distract her. If she took him into her mouth, would she be able to take him all in? No, that was ridiculous. Maybe with a fist around his shaft; then she could take what was left, without choking. Would he hold her head, taking what he wanted, until he came down her throat? She ought to be imagining a condom there, she decided, and undecided just as quickly. It was her imagination. Imagination was always safe.
It didn’t feel safe at all. Not with this man right here. Maybe it would have in the privacy of her own bedroom, but not with his fingers inside her—was that three now?—and his hand alternately caressing and slapping her bare ass. Not with the pressure she felt inside her core, building with every touch. She never came twice. Well, not since the first time she’d discovered a vibrator, when she’d gone overboard and had been sore for days after. She’d always stopped at one orgasm since. And with guys it had never even been an option because they usually had so much trouble finding the right place to touch the first time.
She clenched everything, trying not to come. She wasn’t sure why. She knew it would feel good to have a release, but somehow this stranger shouldn’t be the first person to give her two in a row. It was silly to think it would give him power over her, but she couldn’t help thinking it anyway.
He bent down to kiss her neck, below her ear, and she almost lost control. “You’re going to,” he whispered.
“No.”
“Yes.” He nibbled her ear. She bit her lip, hard, hoping the pain would save her. “Yes,” he said again and brushed his thumb across her clit. She tasted blood from her lip. She’d bitten it harder than she thought. She had to focus on that, not the way her body tingled all over.
“Yes,” he whispered, curled his fingers inside her just right, and spanked her hard.
She screamed and came. She gushed over his fingers. Her arms and legs shook the chains. Even the thought that people would notice and start looking at her couldn’t help her get control. Her body had a mind of its own, and she couldn’t see anything anyway, at first because of a white light filling her vision and then because even her eyes clenched shut at the force of the pleasure sweeping through her body. Her toes curled. Her fingernails bit into her hand.
“Oh fuck,” she said.
He hugged her to the cross. His fingers were wet on her breasts. His other hand was wrapped around her waist. His hard cock nestled against the crease of her ass. Even through the jeans and without seeing, she could tell it wasn’t small. She pushed back against it. She wanted to feel it, outside his pants preferably, but inside would do. It wasn’t as if she had the energy to unzip anything, or the hands free for that matter. Hell, she barely felt like holding herself up. If he backed away, she suspected she would sag in the chains.
“Sir.”
“Yes?”
“Just Sir, Sir.” It felt silly, and she couldn’t explain. She’d called a lot of doms that. Some of them were skilled. Half of them seemed like nice people, worthy of respect. This was the first time, however, that she didn’t feel like she was playacting to use the word. This man was a Sir, capital S.
He unbuckled her from the cross but didn’t let her go. She fell into his arms, feeling small and helpless. “I can lift a big ol’ Marshall,” she murmured, more to herself than him. Not that he’d care whether she could lift a large guitar amp or not. Good God, being this satisfied was like being drunk.
“Whoever Marshall is, he’s not here, and I am,” Brett said back, as he sat down and held her. Kat closed her eyes, so she couldn’t see his eyes. He was nice to look at, but she didn’t want to see him looking back when she felt so vulnerable. It was one thing to feel that way when she was getting more and more turned on, but when she was satisfied, it didn’t seem right at all.
He stroked her hair with surprisingly gentle hands. She didn’t open her eyes until she heard clanking in the direction of the cross. She looked up to see another big tall man taking the chains off the top of it. The redhead who’d taken her money when she came in was removing the ones that had held her ankles.
“Thanks,” Brett said to them, his attention off Kat for only a moment. He stroked her hair again. “Let’s go to the side, so someone else can use the cross, and I’ll hold you while you come back to earth.”
She wiggled out of his grasp and then scrambled to her feet. “I’m fine,” she lied.
Brett frowned, and her stomach did an unhappy flip at the idea she was disappointing him. “It’s not a sign of weakness, Katrina, to enjoy a cuddle.”
“Nah, I’m good.” Cuddles were for people you knew. This man was a stranger, albeit a stranger who had given her two orgasms. The fact that she’d been extremely comfortable cuddling a moment before was beside the point. She desperately needed to clear her head. “Maybe I should take a walk around.”
She expected him to argue with her, but even though he shook his head he said, “Maybe you should. I’ll be around if you need me.”
“THAT,” SAID BRETT’S friend Evan after Katrina had gotten some distance, “is one strange chick.”
Brett couldn’t argue, although he felt an urge to stick up for Katrina. He was always protective of his subs. He didn’t know what was going on in her head, but he imagined it made sense to her. He should have asked her more questions and found out about her previous experiences, but after the earlier runaround, he hadn’t trusted he’d get accurate answers.
She headed for the one place he couldn’t follow, which was the ladies’ room. He’d intended to give her space anyway. He was pretty sure she was coming back because she’d left her pants. He folded them up and put them on top of his bag.
“Red!” The scream came loud and clear from across the room. Both doms turned to look, but Brett couldn’t instantly figure out who was yelling. There was a slender blonde being caned. A big beautiful redhead being spanked. And a short brunette being hit with a flogger. Of the three, the scene with the blonde looked the most dangerous, and he started heading that way with Evan at his side, their gear forgotten. Brett was a dungeon monitor, and it was part of his job to sort things out when someone used the club safe word. He was thankful for Evan’s company.
The man doing the caning was a little guy, but if Brett had to physically stop him, then Evan could help take care of the sub. The safe word hadn’t stopped him as he placed another red line on his sub’s butt.
“Red! Red! Red!” This time Brett could tell who was doing the screaming, and it was the brunette. Darren had gotten up and sat back down when he saw Brett and Evan. Marty was heading over as well. The dom with the flogger held it at his left side, although Brett had seen him get one more lick in after the first safe word. He was big and barrel-chested with a beer belly. Brett had met him but didn’t know him well, and he tried to remember a name. Archie? Yeah, that was it. Archie could probably swing the flogger pretty hard, although it wasn’t a heavy toy. From the way the girl had been screaming, Brett had expected to see a braided cat or something, not a deerskin flogger.
Marty got there first, so Brett pulled up a few feet away. If the man respected Marty’s authority, there wasn’t any need to threaten a physical confrontation.
“Give me the flogger and untie her,” Marty said, clearly expecting to have his directions followed.
“Get me out of here,” said the girl. She was crying now, tears running down her face. She was tied to bolts in the wall, spread-eagle, and wearing a black bra, panties, and high heels. There was a black dress on the floor to her left.
“This is like nothing,” said Archie. “She can’t safe word this. Look, it doesn’t even leave a mark.” He pulled the flogger
back as if he was going to swing it again to demonstrate.
Marty was on the right side of him. Brett was sure Archie was right about the flogger not leaving a mark, but that wasn’t the point. The girl had used her safe word, and Marty couldn’t possibly reach the man’s flogger hand. Brett stepped forward, grabbed Archie’s wrist, and squeezed hard, maybe harder than he needed to. Archie dropped the flogger. His right fist clenched, but rather than swinging it, he yanked his left hand back. Brett let it go. The two men stared at each other. Go ahead. Make my day. Brett wanted to teach him a lesson.
“Evan, help me get her down,” said Marty, in his usual calm voice. “Archie, if you ever want to play here again, you’ll take a deep breath and take several steps back.” Brett didn’t know if the words would work on Archie, but Marty’s calmness helped Brett get his calm back. The man was out of line, and the girl needed protecting, but no one had to get hurt. Or hurt worse. It was possible, even with a light flogger, to do serious damage to a kidney if you hit wrong.
Marty untied the girl’s right hand and ankle, and Evan stepped forward to undo the other side. The girl wasn’t being verbal anymore, just sobbing. Archie clenched his left hand into a fist. That was the one he’d been swinging the flogger with, and that was the dangerous one. He was probably very left-hand dominant, like Evan. Couldn’t bring himself to throw his first punch with his right. And now the moment had passed. The fist remained clenched but not as tightly. “You interfering motherfucker.”
Any words were a better outcome than a fight. Brett nodded, acknowledging the man’s anger. Marty had given him instructions, and there was no reason to repeat them. Now that Archie was starting to think, instead of react, he’d realize that even if he was crazy enough to think he had a chance with Brett, he couldn’t possibly take on Brett and Evan. Evan was a big tall guy. He used to be a professional baseball pitcher. Brett knew he wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of a punch from Evan’s left hand.
“I don’t want to be hit,” the woman was saying in the background.
“You’re not going to be hit,” said a woman whose soft voice Brett recognized as belonging to Starlight, Evan’s submissive. In her vanilla life, Starlight was Stella and a doctor of physical therapy. If the woman was hurt, she was in good hands. “You’re okay now.”
“I didn’t even hit her hard. Look at that flogger. It’s just a warm-up toy. Every blow landed right on her bottom. Right where it should.” Archie was babbling now, his eyes pleading for understanding.
“Let’s take a walk,” said Brett. He put an arm on Archie’s shoulder and guided him away, waiting until they were a few steps distant before he started talking again. Sometimes, the two people involved might benefit from talking about what happened, but right now there’d only be an argument. Clearly, it had all gone wrong, and clearly Archie had shown at least some care to make sure it didn’t, but not enough. Brett could only guess at what happened, but he had a guess.
“Her first time with a flogger?” Brett asked.
“Yeah.Which is why I was going real gentle.”
Brett nodded. He was glad he hadn’t had to punch Archie. He’d been out of line, but he might be salvageable. “Did you tell her what you were going to do before you tied her up?”
Archie shook her head. “No.”
“She may have some issues with being flogged that have nothing to do with you. Or you might have missed and not realized it. I’m betting Starlight is finding out right now. Your sub is being taken care of.”
“But I want to be the one taking care of her.”
“You lost that right when you didn’t honor her safe word. Doesn’t matter if you think the safe word makes sense. When she says it, you have to stop. Period. Even if she’s safe wording you breathing on her ear.”
Archie frowned. “But then the sub is in control.”
“Yes.”
“But isn’t the whole point that she doesn’t want to be in control?”
Brett nodded. “It’s some of the point. But it’s not the whole point. And it ends when she says red. She wanted to be back in control right then, and you had to let her be. Period.”
“So what should I have done?” Archie asked. His voice was almost a whine now, but Brett thought he honestly wanted the information. He didn’t seem very much like a dom right now, but maybe he’d get his confidence back.
“You should have dropped the flogger on the floor and had her halfway untied by the time we got there. And if you had, we would have watched, but not done anything. Unless—”
“Unless what?”
“Unless she kept saying her safe word. It’s not about you having power. It’s about her having power and choosing to give it to you—or not. That’s why we sometimes call it power exchange.” It was an oversimplification, and Brett knew it, but one couldn’t say much of anything about BDSM in his experience without oversimplifying. “And when she says the safe word, she’s reclaiming her power.”
Archie’s face tightened. Brett didn’t expect a positive reaction right away, but maybe he’d think about it in time. “So now what do I do?” asked Archie.
“Do you two live together?”
“Heck no. Met on the Internet, thought we’d hook up here. I’ve known her an hour.”
“You wait. You talk to Marty. And then, if Marty lets you stay, you wait and see if she wants to talk to you—if you want to talk to her. If not, probably best to try with someone else some other evening and talk to her more thoroughly first about what she wants and doesn’t want. Yeah, all that discussion means she’ll be more in control. But if it goes well, and she trusts you, then she may give you a little more power the next time. And there may be a next time.”
“Thanks, Brett. I’ve got it from here.” Marty clapped him on the back as he came up from behind him.
“Is she okay?” Archie asked. After all the bluster and insistence he’d done nothing wrong, Brett thought it was a very good sign that was the first thing out of his mouth. Brett backed away and let Marty run the show. It was his club, and he had a lot of experience dealing with people in all parts of the scene. Brett just filled in when needed. He lingered long enough to hear Marty’s answer.
“I think she will be,” Marty said.
Brett looked over, and Evan and Starlight were talking to her, and she was even smiling. Enough of taking care of other people’s problems; he wanted to look for Katrina and have a nice long discussion with her of the same sort he’d recommended to Archie. Hopefully he’d earned her trust enough that she’d be honest with him.
WHEN KATRINA HAD gone to the club in LA, she’d never been looking for any sort of relationship. She’d always assumed that when she got another boyfriend, it would be a vanilla affair, possibly dull in bed but reliable outside it. The fact was that while she acted respectfully toward doms, she didn’t really respect them. She’d always figured there was something a bit wrong with a man who insisted on having people call him Sir or Master. Some inner insecurity that they needed to compensate for. She accepted her needs, mostly—well, not always, because liking having someone whack her didn’t seem totally right either—but she’d always regarded doms as being slightly sick. Hell, she wasn’t even sure about herself sometimes.
Brett didn’t strike her as sick, and if he was insecure in any way, she didn’t know what it was. So she had to walk to clear her head.
There were a lot of women wearing corsets in the club, she noticed. More than in LA, and not mostly leather ones either but silk. The redhead at the greeter desk had been wearing one. The purple-haired girl had one on now too in a shade that matched her hair perfectly. Glenda had been wearing an orange-and-brown one that was very similar, and it made her breasts look huge. The rest of her wasn’t small, and the corset didn’t give her an hourglass figure by any means, but Kat suspected most men would be transfixed by the two big globes of flesh it pushed up. Kat wondered what she’d look like in one, and what it would feel like to have something so tight around her. Wo
uld it be like walking in bondage?
She buttoned up her blouse again, left the bathroom, and searched for Brett. He looked like he was about to get in a fight. She moved closer to get a better view and felt vaguely disappointed when things settled down. Then she was disappointed in herself for her reaction. She had no doubt Brett would win. She had wanted to see him in action, watch those muscles straining. But still, a fight wouldn’t be a good thing.
Watching him punch Angus would be even nicer. She pushed the thought out of her mind. He was three thousand miles away. He’d gotten to her, and she hated it. He was such a controlling jerk. She didn’t want to think about him.
She turned away, wanting to retrieve her pants, and bumped into a blonde who was wearing another silk corset. She had a collar on her neck too, and the collar was made out of leather. At a concert Kat would have assumed it was just a fashion accessory, but here it probably signified that she belonged to someone.
“Sorry!” Kat said.
“That’s fine, sis,” said the woman.
Sis? Kat let it slide, because she was more curious about the corset. “Mind if I ask you where you got the corset?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” said the blonde and pointed across the room. “His name’s Brett. I’m Jessica, by the way.”
“Katrina,” said Kat automatically. She looked over with a sinking feeling in her stomach, hoping that she wasn’t pointing right at her Brett. But she was.
“How do you feel about your Dom playing with other women?” she blurted before she could stop. She’d never gotten how some women put up with that.
The blonde looked confused for a moment and then frowned. “Oh! Have you been with Master? Hmm. I guess I see it as one of the ways I show my submission.” Kat got the feeling the blonde was trying to sound enthusiastic but wasn’t. Or maybe she was. Kat couldn’t try to figure it out anymore, because her cheeks were burning. She’d been thinking of Brett as something different, and maybe he was, but not in the way she’d been thinking. Whether his sub liked it or not, Kat wasn’t the sharing kind, especially not now that she actually had the first hint of feeling for the man. Angus’s notions about “open relationships” was one of the many reasons they weren’t together anymore. If it worked for some people, great. It didn’t work for her.
Blue Desire Page 4
