by Kate Allure
“Oh, please, stop with the Candi moniker. My friend saddled me with that alias before I could stop her. It’s not worthy of”—her voice dropped to a whisper—“a high court judge. I should have something dignified and siren-esque.” She spoke up to make her point. “It’s something I must fix if I’m to stay in the club.”
“Ms. Candi?” A deep, baritone voice invaded their tête-à-tête.
Tori and Ian broke eye contact and looked up at the interruption.
“Whatever’s wrong, we’re here to fix it.”
Before them stood two handsome men. Shockingly handsome. They were walking, talking incarnations of the sexiest of humanity, as if Michelangelo had carved them for a bordello—or a sex club, if the Renaissance artist could have foreseen such a thing.
And they were a matched set of opposites—one dark and dangerous, the other glowing and blond.
“Um.” Speechless, Tori sat there, openmouthed. They looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite place them, and she certainly hadn’t seen them both together before. She sensed Ian was watching her ogle the sex gods, but she continued to stare, too scandalized to stop.
The blond Adonis broke the brief silence. “We were already on our way to say hello when we overheard that you have a problem with some aspect of the club. I apologize if it was a private comment, but we want to resolve any further issues you may have.”
“We’re fine. Thanks,” replied Ian. “No need for assistance. But it’s great to see you both again, Fletcher, Bass.”
The hint of animus in Ian’s voice surprised her. Was he jealous of them, over her?
Delight curled around her heart. She knew how much Ian cared—he’d told her and he’d shown her—but his jealousy gratified her, soothing the tiny, leftover part that hadn’t been good enough for the men in her past.
The blond Adonis bowed slightly. “Certainly, sir. Then it just remains to—”
“I’ve met you before,” she interrupted, looking at the dark one, finally placing him. “You’re the owner of Club Exotica, aren’t you? On my first night here, you introduced yourself by the Bonobo Pit.” She didn’t add that she’d watched him get well serviced by two women, nor that it had made her wet, but she couldn’t stop the blush suffusing her cheeks.
Eyes that were too knowing gazed back at her from his handsome face. The slightest turn of his lips gave away his amusement.
After a moment he said, “Yes, of course. Miss Devine was giving you a tour of our little establishment. How nice to see you again. Let me introduce my business partner, my brother, Sebastian Fletcher.”
They took turns shaking her hand.
“How nice to meet you, after…” Sebastian said.
“After?” Ian asked.
“We didn’t actually talk then,” she murmured, her cheeks growing even hotter.
She flicked her gaze to Ian. Obviously, he knew there was more to the story, but she wasn’t sure she wanted him to know how much that scene between him and the slave girl had aroused her.
Sebastian took pity on her. “Yes, I was dining here with some companions, but we didn’t get to meet.”
She relaxed since it seemed he would keep her secret, but then he gave her a sly wink. “If I recall correctly, you were rather provoked by my treatment of a naughty slave.” He glanced at Ian. “You might want to explore this with Ms. Candi. I believe she’ll be highly responsive.”
Ian laughed. “Thanks for the tip.”
“May we join you two?” Fletcher asked.
“We were just finishing up, old mate,” Ian said, his stern tone back. He seemed more bothered by the black-haired brother…but why?
Then Mr. Dark and Dangerous bestowed his hot intensity on her. “We’ll only take a moment more of your time, if you don’t mind?” His commanding tone made it clear it wasn’t a request. This man expected to be obeyed. Always.
The owners had the power to approve, or not, her membership application. She smiled and nodded. “Of course, please do join us. It was Michael, right?”
“Most people call me Fletcher, but I grant you permission to call me Michael.” He smiled only for her, then turned away to grab an extra chair.
When both guys stepped away, Ian whispered, “I’m not sharing you. Ever.”
She jerked back to look at him, wide-eyed. “I don’t think that’s what—I mean, I wouldn’t want that, either.”
She squeezed his thigh and after a second rested her hand there. It was the only thing she could think to do to reassure him. Then she returned her gaze to the two men, who were now sitting across from them.
Michael leaned in, his bearing somber. “Ms. Candi, on behalf of the entire staff, please accept our deepest regrets for the intolerable misunderstanding last month and for any suffering you endured on account of it. It was an unforgiveable blunder.”
Sebastian nodded, looking sympathetic. “Truly. Miss Devine has agonized over what happened.”
“Yes. She did,” agreed Michael. “I administered the agonizing, myself.” A slight smile played across his expression.
Flustered, Tori quickly reassured them, “It’s okay. I’ve already forgiven Miss Devine.” She gave him a happy smile.
Beneath the tablecloth, Ian’s thigh tensed under her hand. The men made small talk, but she barely listened, too distracted and excited by Ian’s oddly possessive behavior. She wanted to get him alone and show him how much she liked it.
He looked at her, and she grinned and moved her hand back to his cock.
His eyes narrowed and his lips pursed, but she could see laughter in his eyes. Then he began to subtly tug her skirt up until he could slide his fingers between her bare legs.
Turning back to the club owners, she pretended a great interest in their discourse about an ongoing search for a new masseuse, trying to ignore the hand now playing inside her panties. When he found her clit, she jerked slightly and her pelvis clenched.
Ian also feigned interest in the ongoing conversation while he pinched her clit. Hard.
She lurched in her seat and gasped.
Laughter twinkled in the two owners’ eyes. They knew exactly what was going on.
Her cheeks went hot. “Everything…here is wonder-f-ful,” she sputtered and attempted to slam her thighs together. In vain.
Ian played on between her legs.
“Before we go, we want to officially extend you an offer of membership,” announced Sebastian.
Michael leaned forward, concern replacing the customary wicked gleam in his eyes. “I want to assure you, Ms. Candi, you need not worry, ever, about Lord Bridlington bothering you here again. Or anywhere else.” He looked at Ian. “That the matter we discussed has been dealt with. Bridlington understands what’s expected of him.”
The finality in his tone, imperious and absolute, shivered down Tori’s back. Ian had been right. No one dared cross Michael Fletcher. Relief flowed through her. The weight of worry lifted, she felt lighter.
“Thank you. I’m grateful for your—” She wasn’t sure what he’d done to Rupert. “For your intervention in my disagreeable personal problem.”
“We are a full-service club and care about the welfare of our members, both on and off the premises,” said Sebastian. “Welcome to Club Exotica. We believe you’ll make a fine addition to our little band of naughty players.”
She suddenly realized that she would be perfectly safe here among this society of like-minded free spirits. “Thank you. I accept, and I’m thrilled.”
The brothers rose, but Michael tried one last time with a wicked smile. “If you need anything at all, I would be happy to be of service.”
Without a doubt, he meant servicing her. Based on how Ian’s spine went ramrod straight, he thought so, too. If she hadn’t just grabbed onto his cock, he probably would have risen to challenge the man.
“Oh,” said Sebastian. “Before we go, what was it you needed fixed?”
It took her a moment to remember. “Oh. It’s nothing. My friend stuck me with my s
illy pseudonym, that’s all. I wanted something…I don’t know, more alluring.”
“You can change your alias anytime. When you’re ready, inform—”
“She’s not changing it.”
Everyone looked at Ian in surprise.
His chin went up, and he peered at the men as if challenging them to argue.
Then he turned to her. “I like it, and I think it fits you. To me, you’re the finest, sweetest, most succulent confection I’ve ever tasted.”
Warm fuzzies filled her belly and tingled her sex.
He broke away to glare at Fletcher. “And to be absolutely clear, I never share my Candi.”
She knew she should do the mature, modern-woman thing and declare her right to make her own decisions about both her alias and her choice of being shared or not, but she didn’t. Regardless of her pride over her career, a deep part of her warmed to his declaration, and her newly discovered submissive side sparked to his ownership of her, loving that he claimed her publicly.
She tried to wipe the delighted grin from her face but lost the battle. “Boys,” she announced. “I’d love to say there is enough of me to go around and—”
Ian’s hand clamped down onto her sex.
“However,” she corrected, “there’s only one man I can possibly imagine playing with, here or anywhere.”
The ever-amiable Sebastian laughed. “I think you have your answer, Fletcher.”
“It seems that way,” the dark brother conceded smoothly. He started to turn away but at the last second threw a sly grin at Ian. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you that it’s rude not to share your Candi?” Fletcher bestowed a naughty smile on her. “And I’m always eager to savor a new treat. My invitation will always be open to you, sweet lady.” Before they could respond, he said, “Good evening to you both,” and was gone.
“Don’t mind him.” Sebastian shrugged and flashed a quick grin. “Fletcher thinks he owns the place.” He nodded his head and departed.
Finally, Tori was alone again with Ian.
He withdrew his hand from her thigh and smiled tenderly at her. “I sort of already said it, but I want to be clear. I would like us to be exclusive, no other playmates. I know it’s soon, but I want you to understand how I feel.”
She beamed at him. “I want that, too.”
Still pensive, he said, “I’m almost afraid to ask, pushing my luck probably, but do you think sometime in the future you might consider wearing my collar again?”
“Well, you see—”
“It doesn’t have to be anytime soon, or never if you really don’t want to.”
“Mr. King, please do not interrupt,” she teased in her high court voice.
But she couldn’t maintain eye contact. It was one thing to accept secretly that you liked being submissive and an entirely harder act to ask your lover to be master over you. But with Ian she felt young and fresh, and she craved pleasing him.
Sucking in a fortifying breath, she forced herself to meet his gaze and placed a hand on her bare neck. “Actually, I brought the collar with me tonight because I want you to put it back where it belongs.”
His eyes widened. “Really? You have it here…with you? Brilliant!”
Opening her purse, she pulled out the metal ring and offered it to him.
“Maybe we should wait until all the painful stuff is well behind us and you’re more comfortable here?”
“No. I’m comfortable now,” she insisted.
But he wouldn’t take the collar from her, so she placed it on the table.
“I don’t want to rush you,” he said earnestly. “Plus, I want to wait until you’re ready for all of it. When I place that around your neck”—he pointed at the collar—“even if it’s only worn inside this building, I want it to mean that we’re exclusive everywhere. Publicly exclusive. I know it’s too soon to ask that much of you, but I’m willing to wait. And when the time is right, we can have a special collaring ceremony here in the club.”
Happiness blossomed in her heart at the knowledge that he wanted all that she did. The ramifications of a public relationship flashed through her mind—older high court judge entangled with young barrister—but she’d already made up her mind that it was their business and no one else’s.
“I’ll wait as long as you need,” he reiterated when she didn’t immediately respond. “But when we do this…” He picked up the collar and held it before her. “When we do this, I want it to be a symbol that you belong to me here and everywhere else.”
“I’m ready right now, and I don’t need a fancy ceremony. I just need you.”
He sat straighter, looking both excited and wary. “You’re ready to admit to friends and colleagues, to everyone, that we’re together?” His fierce, white-knuckled grip on the metal ring showed her that what she said next mattered to him.
She beamed at him—not the forced, apologetic smile she used to show the world, but instead a flowing, exuberant one that came straight from her heart.
“The sensible old me would say we should take our time, really get to know each other, and blah, blah, blah.” She laughed, and he joined her.
She reached out and took the collar from him, holding it up in the air like a victory trophy. “But my instinct tells me to go for it. After everything that’s happened, I’m going to decide what’s right for me. And having you in my life for as long as you want to be in it—that’s what’s right for me.”
She stopped short of telling him the full truth—how the idea made her ache with joy and love.
He grabbed her and kissed on the mouth, hard and fast. “I warn you, Justice Whittingstall, I will want you for a long, long time. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before in my life.”
“I haven’t, either.”
“Since we’re going for the whole truth and nothing but the truth, there’s something else,” he said.
“Oh?” A flutter of unease materialized, hovering over her like a thin gray cloud. She wanted to burn it away with the blazing happiness inside her.
“There’s a second aspect to the collar that might take you some time to accept. Maybe you’ll never be ready. Either way, I won’t let it hurt our relationship.” He shrugged.
“Barrister! Just say it before I get a crop and whip it out of you.” A pleasurable jolt struck her sex, and she remembered how much she’d enjoyed lording it over him in her chambers. Whether dominating or being dominated, both were arousing.
He inhaled, deeply. “Okay, then. I’m still not sure it’s the right time to tell you just how depraved I really am. To tell you all the wicked things I want to do to you and how the idea of training you excites me. Before, I said the collar was mostly pretend, mainly to keep other guys away. But I want it to be real, at least in here. When I put this collar around your neck, I want you to submit to me, to accept me as your Dom.”
Always the legal eagle, she cross-examined, “Didn’t you also enjoy being dominated in my chambers? It seemed like you did.”
He shut his eyes, and she saw that he was thinking about it, clearly conflicted.
Flicking his eyes open, he gave her a sly, wicked grin. “Yes, I did. It was singular.” He chuckled. “I’ve always thought I was a full-blooded Dominant, but I also liked your controlling me. A lot. At the same time, I also crave your submission to me. It’s possible, I suppose, that we’re both switches.”
“Does that mean what it sounds like?”
“If you think it means that we both like to top and to bottom, as well, then yes.”
She grinned. “I certainly can’t claim that I don’t enjoy being submissive.”
“So, now what?”
“I think we take turns.” She picked up the metal ring and held it out to him. “And tonight’s your turn. Do with me what you will.”
…
Ian took the collar from Tori. Images of her naked and kneeling with only the collar adorning her body flashed through his mind. A jolt of lust hit him, so powerful it would have brought h
im to his knees had he been standing.
He swallowed down his violent need to fuck her hard, shaking with the effort, determined to give her a sweet night of perfect sex. The battle he fought now was his conflicting need to fuck her senseless versus his greater need to make their first time together here in the club as a real couple perfect for her. Abso-bloody-lutely perfect!
He shut his eyes and drew in a long breath, filling his lungs. He needed to center himself, needed above all to control his hunger.
He took a second stilling breath. And a third.
Opening his eyes, he met her gaze. “Thank you,” he mouthed, not quite trusting his voice.
Taking her by the hand, he led them out of the restaurant and down the hall toward their private suite. Using all his inner strength, he held an iron grip on his throbbing lust. If he didn’t, he’d have her up against a wall in seconds, skirt shoved up and cock pounding into her dripping sex.
It had only been a month since their last night at the club, only one day since they’d made love in her flat, but his driving hunger was a living beast inside him.
Climbing the stairs was a private battle. Every step, he had to fight the urge to take her right there on the stairs.
In this place, where fucking happened everywhere, it would hardly be noticed. It’d be radically easy to bend her over, bracing her hands against the stairs, and throw her dress up onto her back. He’d be thrusting into her warm, wet cunt before she even realized what was happening—but without a thought for her needs.
His grip tightened on her hand as he fought his mindless and delirious craving to be sinking inside her—a woman he’d grown to need more than anything else in his life. Did she have a clue how much she meant to him?
An attendant waited at their suite and opened the double doors for them. “Please let us know if you need anything,” she said before departing.
“Oh! It’s lovely,” Tori exclaimed, peering in through the open door.
She started forward, but he held her back, his hand still locked with hers.
“When we enter, my turn officially begins.” He dangled the metal collar before her for emphasis. “Agreed?”
