by Jenna Jacob
“Thank you, Sir,” Honey whispered as if in a daze.
I forced a pleasant smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to stop by the ladies’ room before going back to work. If you need anything before Dylan arrives, I’ll be happy to help as well.”
One side of Max’s mouth kicked up in a crooked smile.
Oh, god. That time I actually had spoken to him like a sub. The only fucking thing I omitted was the honorific Sir.
Shit. Shit. Shit. I had to fix my fucking faux pas.
“And if you’re a really good boy, I won’t make you beg,” I added dryly with a brittle smile.
Turning on my heel, I walked away. Once safely in the hall and out of Max’s sight, I stomped to my private room. After yanking the key from my skirt pocket, I unlocked the door. Shoving it open, I rushed inside and started pacing the twelve-foot-by-twelve-foot space while bubbling with anger and embarrassment.
Why was I allowing the beefy bastard to unhinge me so?
Because he might be your worst nightmare.
No. Max was the one confusing helpfulness with obedience.
Are you sure?
No one else at the club thought less of me for serving drinks.
You’re not worried he thinks less of you…you’re terrified he suspects more.
“Oh, god. I am so fucked!”
CHAPTER TWO
After restraining my anger and whipping it into submission, I returned to the bar. Max had claimed the same barstool and was nursing a fresh pineapple juice. Though childish and stupid, the fact that I hadn’t given him the chance to ogle my backside again filled me with triumph.
“Thank you for holding down the fort.”
“You’re welcome.” Justice nodded. “FYI, Drake and the DMs escorted Kerr out of the club. He won’t be giving you any more trouble tonight.”
Kerr wouldn’t, but there was nothing to stop Max from digging deeper into my psyche. I could feel his eyes boring into me again watching every fucking move I made.
Dylan, for the love of god…where are you?
“Meet me over at that spanking bench, girl.” Justice pointed out a particular station to Destiny. “We’ll finish our negotiations there and start the scene.”
“Thank you, Master Justice.” She beamed with joy.
A trace of foreboding fluttered through me. Destiny was a nice girl, for the most part, but she had a bad habit of latching on too tightly to the Doms who worked her. After a not-so-friendly parting of ways between her and Master Sam, Mika—who protected all the unowned subs but didn’t scened with them—had to lay down the law. He’d allow Doms who had the necessary experience to safely administer the level of pain Destiny required to work her, but only if she behaved like a free sub. If she started to behave as if they were her Owner, he’d relegate Dommes to fulfill her craving for pain.
I knew from experience the girl found subspace faster and deeper with men than women. Though I didn’t think her lesbian-phobic, I suspected the scent of testosterone and the feel of big, masculine hands flipped her trigger far faster and more thoroughly. Since Mika had handed down his new rule, Destiny had kept her end of the bargain. So far she hadn’t dug her emotional claws into any of the Doms who Topped her. I hoped the same would hold true for Justice.
“Mad Max!” Dylan bellowed as he, Nick, and Savannah—now sporting a padded neck brace—hurried toward the bar.
“Ghost Man!” Max yelled as he launched to his feet and grabbed Dylan in a brutal man-hug. The two held tight to one another sharing hearty back slaps.
Watching their reunion, I couldn’t keep from smiling. They pressed their foreheads together, grinning like loons, and simultaneously yelled, “Oorah!”
I didn’t miss the tears filling both men’s eyes. I, too, had to blink back the sudden sting of my own.
Dylan introduced Nick, and Max tugged him into a masculine hug. When Sanna was presented, Max lifted her fingers to his lips and placed a tender kiss on the back of her hand. He stroked one thick finger over her medical collar and sent her a sad smile.
When the four finally made their way to the bar, he flashed me a wink. “The son of a bitch finally made it!”
I chuckled and nodded before dragging my gaze from his joyous grin and sent Sanna a frown. “Does it hurt much, sugar?”
“No,” she answered, clearly perturbed. “I shouldn’t even be wearing this ridiculous thing. It makes me look like a robot, but—”
“But you will for the next twenty-four hours, like the doctor instructed, or you’ll be dealing with two very unhappy Masters, pet,” Nick warned.
“That’s right. You’ll leave that on, kitten…or else,” Dylan chimed in.
Sanna pursed her lips and remained silent. I could tell by the tone of Nick’s voice and his serious expression, Sanna’s slight injury had shaken him to the core. It was times like these I wished I had more to offer than soda or juice. A shot of whiskey would do the man nicely. But Mika ran a safe, sane, and consensual club. The members and employees respected his no-alcohol rule.
Slamming me with a toe-curling smile, Max plucked his drink off the bar and followed the trio to a table. I couldn’t peel my eyes off his sexy marble ass under those tight leather pants. My palm itched to fire up his orbs while my mouth watered. I wanted to glide my tongue all over his rippling muscles.
“Sammie?”
Jerking from my trance at the sound of my name, I spun around to find Mika standing behind me.
“You all right?” His brows were arched high.
“Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t see you come down from your office.”
Always observant, Mika smirked as he glanced in Max’s direction. “You do know he’s—”
“A Dom. Yeah, yeah. I do. But sometimes my X chromosome can’t help but drool over a fine Y one like his,” I drawled. “What can I do for you, boss?”
“Not a thing. I came down to give you a break.” Mika nodded toward Eli. “Go get your Domme on with him if you’d like.”
The boy was sitting alone at a table wistfully watching the various scenes.
“When have I ever not felt like it?” I teased.
As I headed toward the sub, my Dominance awakened within, stretching like a cat after a long nap in the sun. The minute Eli saw me approaching, hope glittered in his dark eyes. His flat brown nipples grew taut. I wanted to pinch those ripe, juicy berries until he moaned my name. When I paused at the table, he sank to his knees in a perfect submissive pose. Eli was willingly handing over his trust, mind, body, and soul to my care. Pride warmed and expanded in my veins.
I gently caressed a hand over the top of his head. His silky hair slid through my fingers. “Rise and follow if you wish to be used, sweet boy.”
Eli sprang to his feet. Though he kept his gaze cast to the floor, his smile was bright and wide. God, how I loved playing with passionate subs like him.
Like a shadow, he followed me across the room. My mind became more focused. I was aware of the heat of Eli’s body behind me. I could hear his excited breath as it left his lungs. Anticipation prickled my flesh. My nipples hardened. His faith in me, so absolute and pure, sent a thrilling rush of power to fill me, and I hadn’t even yet bound him to a piece of equipment.
In the corner station to my right, Trevor lay naked and immobilized beneath a crisscross of rope. His scrotal sac was tied, as well, and his protruding balls were red and swollen. Drake dragged his mouth up and down Trevor’s cock, devouring his sub’s brittle erection. At the mercy of his Master’s loving torture, Trevor helplessly writhed and whimpered. A smile spread across my lips as I drank in the beauty of the magnificent sight.
When I pausing, Eli stilled behind me. I inched in beside him and cupped his chin. While forcing his attention on the enthralling scene, I leaned in close to his ear. “Look at Master Drake and Trevor. You’ve been watching them tonight, haven’t you, boy?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Eli’s breath was shallow. His pupils were beginning to dilate, and I could feel the palp
able surge of lust heating his skin as well as witness the swell of arousal beneath his thong.
“What do you see?”
“Sweet suffering, Mistress.”
“Do you want to suffer sweetly for me, slut?”
“With all my heart, Mistress Sammie.” His voice quivered. So did his body.
“Pain or pleasure?”
A shy smile tugged the corners of his mouth. “Both, Mistress.”
I chuckled softly. “Greedy little minx. Strip off your thong and wait for me at that cross, boy.” I pointed to the empty station. “I’ll collect what I need to give you the precious agony and sweetness you crave.”
“Thank you, Mistress.”
Eli all but ran to the assigned spot, stripped off his black thong, and knelt on a pillow beside the cross. His eagerness warmed me as I gathered an array of floggers, paddles, a nice pliant whip, and a cotton blanket for aftercare. When I returned, his head was lowered and spine straight. With his legs slightly parted, his open palms rested on his thighs. He was the perfect picture of submission.
I couldn’t wait to taste his precious power flowing through me.
Spreading out the toys upon an empty table near the cross, I aligned them in order. Innocuous ones to warm him up, followed by slightly harsher ones that would supply the foundation for me to build him to the toys that burned and bit his succulent flesh.
The back of my neck tingled. Pausing my assembly, I glanced over my shoulder. Max’s penetrating stare seized me as a slow, incendiary smile spread across his sensual mouth. My pulse began to race. My body temperature spiked, hovering near the brain damage marker, as my traitorous clit throbbed with need. No man had provoked such uncontrollable arousal in me before. Not even Desmond.
No. I couldn’t allow my brain to slide down that path. Not now. Not here.
Eli needed a Domme, and nothing—especially Max’s provocative stare—was going to distract me from fulfilling those needs. Turning my back on Max, I blocked him from my mind and focused on Eli. The sub’s energy, a sizzling current of anticipation, ratcheted higher with each passing second.
“Rise and look at me, sub.”
He instantly complied. As he lifted his eyelids, a thrilling shiver slid down my spine.
Confidence.
Devotion.
Honor.
Pride.
Trust.
Those and a whole host of emotions rippled, like a swift-flowing stream, through his dark eyes. Want, need, and a potent willingness to please rolled off his naked flesh, a stark and empty canvas I intended to color and mark with my Dominance. Like a sponge, I absorbed his precious energy until the demand to control him tingled and burst like tiny fireworks beneath my skin.
“Give me your safe word, boy.”
“Pasta, Mistress.”
I arched my brows. “Did you eat your pasta today?”
Eli coyly smiled and nodded. “Yes, Ma’am. Two plates of spaghetti at dinner.”
“Good boy.” I reached between his legs and cradled his balls. His quick intake of air and the jerk of his cock on my wrist made me shiver. “We don’t want your blood sugar to drop tonight, do we?”
“No, Mistress.”
Releasing his sac, I scraped my nails up his flesh. All the tension of anticipation melted from Eli’s body. He briefly closed his eyes and moaned as he savored the sensation. I intended to drown him in even more.
“Face the cross.” My tone was harsh and impatient.
Without hesitation, he complied. I fastened the sheep-lined cuffs to his wrists and ankles, then stood behind him and raked my nails up and down his back.
Leaning in, I pressed myself against his heated flesh and inched my mouth close to his ear. “Close your eyes, precious. Let go of your will, and lose yourself to me…to my touch, my caress. Everything I use on you tonight is an extension of me…my hands, my lips…my heart.”
A soft tremor shook his body. I smiled and stepped back. Lifting the heavy cowhide flogger, I began systematically working my way from his shoulders to his pert little ass. Landing the falls in a slow, sublime tempo, I slid into my own Dominant headspace. The sounds of the dungeon faded into white noise while the movement of the nearby members blurred.
All my attention was focused on one…the benevolent sub before me.
Long minutes later, I was swinging the thuddy flogger with both hands. Driving the leather across Eli’s pink, glowing flesh. The slightly brutal massage had him moaning in bliss. His bones liquefied, and he slumped against the cross.
It was time to draw him back to me.
Selecting a leather-covered paddle, I slapped it across his reddened cheeks. He jerked upright before the sassy tart thrust his buttocks outward…silently begging for more. I grinned and landed several furious blows over his proffered cheeks. He grunted in pain and squeezed his hands around the edges of the wooden frame as he worked to process the sting. I lowered the paddle and dragged my nails over his mottled, crimson orbs. He sucked in a long hiss.
Feeding off his sounds and the feel of his fiery flesh, my blood sang.
Determined to give back every ounce of power he so bravely offered, I slid the paddle between his legs. Gently at first, I tapped his balls, hanging heavy between his legs. Slowly, I increased the tempo and force until Eli’s muscles tightened, and a cry of distress tore from his throat.
Pausing, I allowed him to process the smoldering burn that engulfed his testicles.
Gripping his hair, I tugged his head back and whispered for only him to hear, “Please me…ride the fire for me, sweet slut.”
Having worked Eli numerous times, I used one of the phrases he best responded to as I eased him off the craggy peak of pain.
Turning the paddle sideways, I slapped the insides of his thighs, presenting a new focal point of nerve endings to capture his attention. Eli widened his legs and attempted to dance away from the biting blows but couldn’t retreat with his ankles bound to the frame.
His flesh glowed red like embers, and he sucked in a gasp before suddenly stiffening.
“Shit!” he spat.
I inwardly chuckled and landed two more slaps to his angry thighs before pressing myself against his trembling body. Gently caressing the hot flesh with my fingertips, I smiled and bent my lips to his ears. “Shit is not your safe word, boy.”
“I know, Mistress,” he hissed.
“Breathe through it for me, little one.”
Eli nodded. He inhaled several deep breaths through his nose and expelled them out his mouth in a noisy rush.
“Good boy,” I whispered.
Time and space merged into an ebb and flow as I bestowed him beneath an avalanche of pleasure and pain…drove him to the oblivion he craved. Together we drank in our rewards, gorged on command and submission, as we separately swirled in our own kaleidoscope of serenity.
Eli had escaped reality and was off flying in his own cosmos of peace. The once pristine canvas of flesh he’d offered was now stained with the colors of my command and marked with the welts of his surrender. It was a stunning sight to behold.
As I shook open the soft cotton blanket, Max appeared at my side.
“May I help take your boy off the cross?” he whispered softly.
Stunned by his offer, I nodded. “Thank you.”
As Max worked on releasing the cuffs, I wrapped the blanket around my mindless submissive, holding him tight in my arms. Max’s eyes didn’t leave mine as his fingers deftly worked the leather. As I talked to Eli in low tones, I was taken aback by the respect shimmering in Max’s green pools.
“That was a beautiful scene,” he murmured before he strode away.
“Can you walk yet, sweet boy?” I breathed softly in Eli’s ear.
“Mmm,” he murmured.
His nonverbal response was answer enough.
“Let go of the cross and let me hold you.”
As his fingers slowly released the wood, I pulled him to my chest before easing us both to the carpet. Tuckin
g the blanket around his boneless body, I strummed my fingers through his sweat-soaked hair and whispered soft praises in his ear. The corners of his mouth lay curled in a sated smile.
Peanut quietly approached and set a bottle of water next to my knee.
“Thank you.” I smiled. The sub nodded and walked away.
After coaxing Eli to take a few sips of water, he slowly began to resurface. Reaching up, he pressed his fingers to my face and smiled softly. “Thank you, Mistress.”
I sent him a warm one of my own and nodded. “Thank you, sweet sub. I enjoyed myself. How about you?”
A lazy grin split his lips. “Oh, yes. I had a wonderful time, Mistress.”
Eli closed his eyes and released a contented sigh. I, too, savored the Dominant satisfaction warming me from within. Lifting my head, I noticed Max, Dylan, Nick, and Savannah had left their table. After skimming a cursory glance over the dungeon, I didn’t see any sign of the group. A puzzling sense of disappointment spread through me. I closed my eyes and pushed the absurd sensation away, focusing instead on the warm subbie spread out across my lap.
Rolling out of bed, a little past noon, I was in a foul mood. I hadn’t slept for shit. Max had stormed his way into my dreams and filled them with such explicit sexual fantasies I climaxed a couple times in my sleep. When I woke, the ache between my legs throbbed so hard it felt like fucking menstrual cramps.
I’d never experienced such raw and unsatisfied need before. Pissed, not because I was still incredibly horny, but irked that a man I barely knew, a Dominant man, had my hormones running a marathon with no finish line!
“Argh!” I growled. Flipping on the shower, I slammed the glass door behind me.
Adjusting the temperature to a semi-tolerable scald, I prayed the heat would melt away the gritty residue of my hopeless infatuation with Max that adhered to my skin. It was tragic to be pining and obsessing over a man—to the point of orgasming during sleep. It was beyond pitiful. It was pathetic.
I needed to set a sex date with Scotty. He’d put this ridiculous fire out, and I could return to my confident, sane self again.
