by Deana Birch
“Okay.” He let her have her small victory.
The cars in front of them sped up and he put the signal on to turn down the street to his building.
She pouted—just divine—next to him until they were in the underground parking and he’d killed the engine.
“Claire,” he said and shifted toward her, “I know you’re a strong woman. And I admit I read that article about you in the magazine a month ago, so I know you’ve been through a lot. At any moment, if you are uncomfortable, you just need to tell me. We’ll find a quiet place and talk about it. Do you understand?”
Safety, increasingly Claire’s alone, was at the top of his concerns.
The gravity of his words must have hit something inside her, because the adorable frown was replaced by her biting the inside of her cheek—something to add to his future unattainable wish list of things the beautiful woman should stop. But for now, it was just a sign of her true unease.
Luca reached out to brush her cheek and their eyes met.
Softer, he asked, “Do you understand, Claire?”
Regretfully, he drew back his touch from her simply made-up skin.
“Yes. I understand.”
Quiet. So deliciously quiet.
The air between them thickened and Luca licked his lips then let his teeth rake across the bottom one.
“And you’re sure you want to go up there? Sure you’re ready?”
“Yes.” There was no flush in her skin, no stagger in her breath. Just her eyes. Her piercing, damning, perfect blue-gray eyes.
He turned back and reached for the door handle. “Okay.”
Chapter Six
Claire
Two glasses of wine, the same deep red color as the Barolo—his family’s vintage, as he’d informed her last time with more than a hint of pride—sat near the corner of the bar where the firm hand on her back was guiding her. Claire’s gaze went from the glass to him and back again as she perched on the tall chair.
Luca inclined his head and unbuttoned his jacket, taking the seat next to her. “Yes, my Barolo again.”
The dark liquid slid smoothly down her throat with the first sip. She attempted to quell some of the nerves she’d been fighting since Julien had pranced into her office to deliver Luca’s message. His order, really, complete with the command to not be late.
“Thank you, Mr.—”
His brown eyes tightened and his mouth thinned.
“I mean, Luca. Thank you for sharing your wine with me again. It’s exceptional.”
A part of her—a part growing smaller by the second—wanted to beg Luca to take her home and forget this entire preposterous deal. But the fire of curiosity that had been lit at her first visit was so much stronger than her fear. She lifted the glass to her lips again, hoping the alcohol content was high enough to help her see this through to the end. She almost choked on the mouthful of wine when she caught his gaze tracking her every movement.
He mirrored her action, draining his glass. Rising from the chair, he held an arm out. “Shall we?”
Yes? No? The war of uncertainty raged beneath the surface, but she was determined to present an unconcerned face to him. One more swallow and she placed her empty glass beside his on the bar to be whisked away by the ever-present yet mostly invisible Max. She affected an even tone. “Yes, please.”
Luca tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow and led her to a wide mahogany staircase. He paused just before they began their ascent, turning his head to pin her with an intense stare. “Do you trust me, Claire?”
“Yes.” The answer stunned her nearly as much as her immediate, instinctual response. It had only been a couple of weeks since the man had entered her world as anything more than a hypothetical businessman she’d read about in the latest financial publication. “Yes, I do.”
His gaze left hers, surveying the crowd over her right shoulder for a moment before focusing on her again. “Stay by my side tonight.” He held up a single digit just as she opened her mouth. “You said you trust me, and while our members are welcoming and adhere to the strict code of conduct of Sopra, there are occasionally guests I do not know, that I am not certain I can trust.” He snapped his jaw closed, cutting off his own statement. He tugged her arm, encouraging her to begin the climb.
Claire jutted her lower lip out slightly and furrowed her brows. Is this unsafe? Am I at risk of being hurt? What was Luca about to say before he so abruptly ended his speech? Lost in her own thoughts, she jumped when a finger gently pushed on her protruding lip.
“No pouting, Claire.”
Was… Was that a smile? Did Luca Bernardi just flash a genuine, damn near playful smile?
They crested the top of the staircase and her mouth went dry. If she had found the first-floor bar boring, this one more than made up for it…and there were two additional stories to explore.
Luca waved to the left where there was another bar, smaller than the one below. “Would you like another drink, Claire?”
She shook her head wordlessly, unable to find her voice. While the gleaming wood surface surrounded on three sides by tall stools was nothing out of the ordinary, the table in the middle of the room certainly was. Nearly the entire length was covered by a flawless blond man surrounded on all sides by various cut fruits, his body covered in chocolate and caramel sauces, whipped cream and even a bowl of maraschino cherries was centered on his navel.
Men and women in various states of dress and undress circled the table, nibbling on the offerings—both the food and the human platter—and making small talk as if this were a normal occurrence. The young man at the center of it all remained completely still, not moving, not speaking, not reacting to any touch.
“His Mistress has instructed him to behave that way.” Luca’s deep voice purred on her left. “And the single greatest joy for a submissive isn’t sexual gratification. It’s pleasing their Dominant.”
Immediately his words triggered memories for Claire—the approving nod when she’d stilled her silly little habit of focusing her attention by making circles on her palm with her thumb, the gleam in his eyes when he’d seen that she had not only been on time but had been waiting for him tonight. Pleasing him in those small moments had caused an unusual warmth in her belly—and a raging fire roaring through her veins.
He gently pulled her arm to steer her to the right. She scanned the open floor plan laid out before them but quickly pulled her focus to the next area, overwhelmed by the activity. Luca paused, grabbing two glasses of champagne off a passing tray and dropping her arm in the process. He handed her one and Claire gripped the stem, afraid she would drop it as she stared at the scene before her.
A curvy brunette had her wrists and ankles bound to two horizontal pieces of wood in the shape of an X. The only clothing Claire could see on her body was the back of a bustier and spiky black heels. A tall, muscular man dressed in pants matching the black leather the woman wore spoke directly to her in a low tone before turning to address the small group surrounding them.
Luca moved slightly behind her and leaned close, his breath warming her ear with each word. “That is Stefano and his submissive. She has been disrespectful by sitting on the couch beside him rather than on the floor at his feet. Since she insulted him publicly, he feels her punishment should be public as well.”
Claire swallowed once. Twice. Her breathing became shallow and she had to concentrate on pulling air into her lungs. With the first crack of the riding crop, she jumped and her hand fluttered to her chest in a futile effort to still her racing heart.
Luca’s palm came to rest against the small of her back and he rounded her, his very presence at her side pulling her attention from the continued discipline. “Would you like to leave?”
She shook her head. The excitement—the unexplainable, all-consuming excitement—racing through her veins confused the hell out of her, but the last thing she wanted was to leave. If anything…
“N-no. I-I was just wondering… You’ve menti
oned the rigorous background checks, health forms and membership fees, but how does one begin this process?”
Her cheeks were on fire by the time she’d finished speaking. She downed the contents of the glass she’d almost forgotten about, hoping the action and the lowered lighting would conceal her blush. His eyes darkened, turning into intense black pools. Claire tightened her fingers on the crystal once again as she fought the urge to lower her gaze.
If she’d thought he had perfect posture before, it had been nothing compared to the ramrod straightening of his back that her words had caused. His jaw flexed and he remained silent for so long that an involuntary tremor ran through her.
Luca moved his hand to her arm, running the tips of his fingers down the length before lacing through hers. “Come.”
A single word shouldn’t carry that much power. The unfamiliar desire that had been building in her the entire night ramped up to an unbearable level and she bit her bottom lip as she struggled to keep up with his clipped, purposeful cadence.
Claire cursed her impatience in blurting out the question. He was going to pack her back into his sexy-as-hell car and drop her at home like some disappointed father who’d caught his underage daughter at a seedy pub, three sheets to the wind. Why in the world did the thought of his rejection lance through her like a dull knife?
He marched them both up another series of steps to a floor lined with closed doors. Echoes of moans, pleasured screams and smacking flesh greeted them as they made their way down the hall. Claire was certain she’d never been this turned on in her life. A small spear of guilt hit her gut. She’d loved Liam, adored every inch of his lanky, six-foot-two frame and had been more than satisfied by their sex life. But every part of tonight spoke to her on an entirely different level.
Luca made a sharp left, sequestering them behind a thick oak door that silenced every sound from the hall. A massive bed stood against the far wall, a deep red velvet couch on the left and a case housing an array of toys Claire couldn’t fathom being used on her, yet… Her nipples puckered as an avalanche of possibilities flooded her mind. She tugged her hand free from Luca and crossed her arms.
He stood in the middle of the room, once again fixing her with his silent, intense gaze. After a few moments, he pointed at the sofa. “Sit.”
Her body had already taken residence on the soft surface before it clicked in her brain that she’d followed his order. Again.
Luca slid off his suit jacket, folding it carefully and placing it on the chair that matched the couch before sitting beside her. With an amount of precision Claire had never seen accompanying the simple act, he slowly rolled up each sleeve of his crisp white shirt, every inch of exposed olive skin exciting her more than the one before. “This is not an easy question that you ask, Claire.”
He smoothed his hand across the material now gathered around his elbow and she willed her mind to focus on his words rather than his movements, a nearly impossible task. He tapped her exposed thigh twice with his index finger. “Look at me, Claire.”
Immediately her gaze met his.
“Why is this so difficult? I am in perfect health and am a partner in what is projected to be one of the most successful private banks in Switzerland. I am obviously capable of meeting the fees associated with membership.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “It isn’t your physical or financial condition that concerns me. This lifestyle is all about transcending into a mental state based on trust in your Dom, your Master, your owner.”
Claire’s heart skipped a beat. Owner. She was the product of the boarding schools, top universities and social breeding that rivaled royalty, but the very concept of being owned caused a level of exhilaration to course through her that she’d never known before. It was both foreign and welcomed—and incredibly right.
He gripped her hands. “You need to understand what you are asking, Claire.”
She curled her fingers around his. “Can you teach me, Luca? Explain it?”
His eyes widened a fraction, his mouth dropping open slightly before he schooled his features once more. “You would need to be trained, need a trainer.” Luca lifted his gaze to the ceiling for a moment before pinning her with his stare once again. “You need someone who will teach you everything you need to know, how you need to behave and so much more than we can cover in one conversation.”
She tilted her head to the side and bit her lower lip again. If they had been in the boardroom, she could negotiate a deal easily, with confidence, assured of the fact that she would get her way. She always did. But here she was helpless. And Luca seemed determined to talk her out of it at every turn.
Before she could think of anything to say, he tugged her lip free from her teeth with his thumb. “It would be a shame to cause damage to such a beautiful mouth, cara.” He cleared his throat. “Claire, if you are intent on embarking on this journey, exploring the lifestyle—my lifestyle—you need to find someone you trust implicitly to train you, someone who will act with only your best interests at heart, someone who will protect you for as long as you belong to him, someone who will respect your every desire and fear.”
His jaw tightened, working back and forth. “There are some who claim to be experienced, knowledgeable Dominants…trainers.” He snorted and shook his head. “They are not to be trusted. I’ve seen many removed from this club in my time here and have all intentions of banning a few more. Because of this, you need to be exceptionally careful who you entrust with your body and, more importantly, your mind.”
Claire blinked, absorbing everything he said. It was as informative as it was confusing. Who were these people? Clearly, they didn’t walk around with signs around their necks declaring them dangerous. And even if they did…there really was only one option in her mind for a trainer, only one person she trusted to a degree that was perplexing, considering their brief time together.
She licked her lips and took a deep breath. “Luca, would you be my trainer?”
Chapter Seven
Luca
Yes. No. With pleasure. Not now. Right now.
Luca brushed his thumbs over Claire’s soft knuckles. She may not have fathomed the enormity of her question but its weight was not lost on him. Her light eyes glistened with insecurity. She knew not what she’d done.
“You are in a state. You’ve seen things that have perhaps awoken something inside you, that charged a dormant energy you didn’t even know you had.”
Claire’s hard swallow confirmed his suspicion.
“Tonight is not a time to make a decision like this,” he said in a soft voice and caressed the sweet skin again.
She dropped her head and pulled away. “You’re saying no.”
Luca reached inside the collar of his unbuttoned shirt and rubbed through the modest chest hair then up to his shoulder, where he squeezed the tight muscle. He angled his head to find her eyes. He waited.
Yes, he wanted to train her. And yes, it would bring him unreal pride and pleasure to be the one to introduce the power of a true Dom/sub relationship—selfishly, because she was exquisite and he knew he could take an uncut jewel and craft a stunning result, but for her sake as well. He’d seen too many other subs who’d had terrible beginnings. All had had male Doms, to be fair—men who reveled in punishment, who didn’t understand the chrysalis of a sub or the cocoon their Master must provide to ensure success.
And his ego would not allow anyone else the honor.
“I don’t believe I said that word.” His voice brought her eyes, her sad, fragile yet powerful eyes. “I’m saying I want you, that I need you”—he slowed his breath—“to be sure.”
As if understanding an argument would be futile, she nodded once.
He continued, “I’ll send you some reading material. This lifestyle is not to be chosen on a whim.”
“I—”
As soon as her mouth opened he raised his eyebrows and, reading his intent perfectly, she stopped herself. It came as no surprise that the intelli
gent, beautiful woman in front of him was a quick learner.
Luca stood and unrolled his sleeves with brisk turns of his wrists. He smoothed out the fabric along his forearms—once, twice, three times on each side.
As he crossed to reclaim his jacket, he said, “You’ve seen enough for tonight. I’ll drive you home.”
She rose and threaded her fingers through his outstretched hand as they’d done before. Her energy shifted, and he allowed himself to credit his touch.
The echo of their shoes married with the satisfied groans down the hallway to the stairs. For a brief moment, in the darkness of the stairwell, he considered stopping.
To push her up against the wall and kiss her madly, to claim her right then and there, to mark her as his own. He marveled at the oddity. Of all the subs to kneel at his feet, kissing had never been the first thing on his mind.
Upon arriving at the second floor, Luca took quick stock of activities. The sub buffet had been cleared away and a small crowd had formed in front of the glass of the public shower. The slithery Noah Paulick, with his arms crossed and a far-too-smug face, observed the scene of two subs giggling as they washed each other.
Luca gripped Claire’s hand a little tighter and hurried her down the next flight. In front of the bar, he told her to wait as he collected his phone and wallet from security. He joined the lovely blonde again and ushered her to his car in the garage.
Once they’d left the lights of the city behind and were on the empty, dark road toward her home, she said, “I’ve decided to help you with the sale. I’ll open your account on Monday.”
Luca shifted his jaw. “I hope that’s not an attempt to get in my good graces.”
“No. I promise it’s not. You have money and you want to make more. I can do that. In fact, I’m quite good at it.”
His quick glance was enough to catch her smile.
“So I’ve heard. And that reminds me to tell you something else.” He lifted his finger to the blinker and clicked it up. “Honesty is a fundamental requirement in a Dom/sub relationship. Sometimes telling your truths is more painful than any punishment. But if there are lies, or omissions, the foundation crumbles.”
