Seduced

by Kate Allure

  She grinned. “Agreed.”

  “Go on in, then, and look around. But know that I intend to take you up on your offer to do with my submissive whatever I will.”

  He let go of her hand, and she danced forward, eagerly taking everything in. He followed her and shut them inside.

  The suite’s opulent luxury was skewed toward ancient Egypt rather than Africa, with a painted blue sky, marble pillars, and fluttering silk drapes. A huge bed rested along one wall, and a sunken whirlpool stood in the center. The bondage equipment was hidden from sight in this romantic fantasy.

  “It looks like Cleopatra’s palace, complete with strawberries and champagne. This is really lovely. Thank you.”

  Ian glanced around. He supposed it was a nice room, but the only thing truly lovely stood before him, smiling almost shyly as she trailed a hand on the satin bed cover. She looked fragile and feminine in a silky dress that hugged all her luscious curves. She would forever be his Ms. Candi, succulent and sweet.

  Forcing himself to appear calm, he took a step toward her, but she backed away, smiling and shaking her head.

  “I have a surprise for you,” she sang out. “Shut your eyes, and I’ll undress so you can see it.”

  “Not a chance.” He grinned, the unbearable lust easing a bit.

  She nibbled her lip. “You look like a hungry wolf.”

  “I’m a Dom. Your Dom. And I intend to watch.”

  He leaned back against the door, giving her a sense of comforting space but keeping his eyes open. Crossing his arms, he waited.

  “Oh. You really are going to watch… Ah, okay. Sure.” But she didn’t look him in the eye as she reached up to undo the silk tie behind her neck.

  Her sudden skittishness, especially after her sexual confidence in the restaurant, charmed him. Perhaps it was only accidental, but her submissively downcast eyes struck an erotic chord, making the Dom in him need to care for his sub.

  He smiled encouragingly through gritted teeth, silently begging his raging hard-on to give him a friggin’ break.

  She slid her dress down a little while twirling and dancing to the soft, foreign beat of earthy music. She turned her back and let the dress fall to her hips, her face turned to look at him over her shoulder. The slinky dress settled on her hips for a moment, and she twerked her ass.

  He sucked in a breath.

  Fall, damn it!

  It did, sliding over her curves to puddle at her feet.

  She paused, easing into an elegantly sensual pose. She looked like a marble statue, her pale skin glowing under the light from a recessed lamp in the darkened room. Her fuck-me stilettos and sexy lingerie—a shimmery, multicolored barely there number—made his cock pump restlessly in his tight pants.

  She slowly rotated to face him, and his fingers tingled, needing to undo the pastel ties. Needing to rip the fabric from her body.

  Her eyes lifted to his, looking more confident now.

  She was a dream come true. His dream.

  The wildling in him screamed to be let loose, but he rigidly held himself back, knowing otherwise he’d pounce and scare her.

  She smiled at him. Trusted him.

  One last time, he forced the beast down and pushed off the wall. He walked toward her in measured paces. His hands clenched around the metal ring in his hand.

  His tone was low. Calm. “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen, even without that hot number you’re wearing. But in it, you take my breath away and brighten my world.”

  “Ohh.” She visibly relaxed, her shoulders lowering and a smile lighting her face. He slid a hand around her lower back to draw her nearer, and she leaned in, brushing her erect nipples against his shirt.

  He sucked in a breath, his control wavering. Lowering his mouth, he kissed her but forged his arms into steel bands of restraint so he wouldn’t crush her. She rubbed against him, and he groaned. Roiling emotions flooded him. He wanted so much more from her than just sex.

  He released her and stepped back. He shut his eyes for a moment, centering himself, feeling every inch of his inner power and drawing out his innate dominance, regaining the control over his needs that had until that moment eluded him. When he opened his eyes, the master had returned.

  He gazed down at her as if she were nothing more than his property. “Ready?”

  “Yes,” she replied, nodding, but her tone was less confident.

  “Now, strip.”

  The quiet but overwhelming authority in his voice caught her by surprise. Her mouth dropped open into a little O, but she obediently reached up and slid the lingerie strap over the curve of her shoulder. And then the other. And finally she pushed the shimmery fabric down, revealing her lush, full breasts. Reacting swiftly to his intense scrutiny, her tits peaked hard and tight.

  “Very nice.” He dropped his gaze to her satin briefs, tilting his head sideways, and waited. He craved her like a man starved, but outwardly he maintained an almost detached aura, his Dominant self fully in control.

  Breathing hard, she trembled before him.

  He remained silent, a Dom expecting complete obedience.

  Moving slower, she dragged her hands to her waistband, pushed the last shield of fabric down from her body, and stepped out of her bottoms. She bent down to remove her heels.

  He ordered, “Leave them on.”

  Her eyes met his, and he saw both defiance and desire within their depths.

  He grinned, always loving a challenge.

  She opened her mouth, but he put a finger to his lips, silencing her. “Stand still with your shoulders back and arms to your sides. Feet apart.”

  Her eyes grew dark and her mouth tight, but she complied.

  “Now, chin up and chest high.”

  She raised her chin.

  “No. Arch your back. Display your tits for me to enjoy.”

  Her eyes flared wide, but again she complied, maneuvering her body into the foreign posture.

  “From now on when I say present, this is the pose you’ll assume.”

  He gave her a wicked grin as his gaze trailed down her body. Strolling leisurely, he walked around her, his gaze hot on her nude form.

  She kept her face forward, but her eyes followed his progress until she couldn’t see him anymore. When he stood behind her, he kissed a silky shoulder, then reached around and cupped her sex, squeezing.

  “Mine,” he whispered into her ear, and she trembled against his hand.

  Continuing his slow perusal, he came around to face her. “To be clear, all of your body is mine.”

  Their eyes locked, his searing gaze branding her as his property and hers fighting the bit like an untrained filly.

  …

  “Kneel.”

  Tori heard the command through a fog of lust and shock and resistance. This game of theirs was becoming more real than she could ever have imagined. She wanted it all but hadn’t been prepared for all the emotions washing through her in dizzying waves.

  “Kneel now, unless you want more punishment than you’ve already earned.”

  As if he’d poked her with a real red-hot brand, she lurched into motion. Casting her eyes downward, she settled before him on the floor. The plush carpet was soft against her shins, but the press of her naked ass against the heels of her shoes felt strange. The cool air washing over her heated skin also felt strange. That he remained fully clothed, reinforcing her lower station, felt even stranger.

  A scuff mark on the toe of his oxfords drew her attention. Should she bend down and lick the spot clean? Mentally sliding into the role of submissive, it seemed like the right thing to do.

  Maybe.

  Through the fog she heard him speak from above. “We’re going to have a nice ceremony here in the club someday.” His tone was light, conversational. “I want that. We can even collar each other, but for tonight, I’ll improvise.”

  She liked that. Was she supposed to tell him so? Or remain silent?

  Abruptly, he dropped to the floor and took her
hands.

  She blinked, surprised to find him kneeling next to her.

  “I want you to see how much I care about you. You’re beautiful, smart, strong, and oh my god, so sexy! I’m thrilled that you’re my girlfriend and are willing to wear my collar in the club. But before I put it around your neck, I want to tell you that I’m also planning to get you a ring.”

  She was stunned, and it must have showed.

  “No, not that. Not yet, anyway. Let’s call it a promise ring, maybe something gorgeous for your pinkie finger, because I want you always wearing something of mine. Marked, even in secret, as mine. Would you agree to wear such a ring?”

  The lawyer in her had to clarify. “Is the promise that we’re exclusive both here and outside, and that we’re giving our full commitment to each other and to seeing where this relationship goes? Is that what the ring means?”

  “Yes, exactly that.”

  “Then, yes, I’ll gladly wear your ring.”

  He kissed her quickly before standing.

  An incredible happiness that she’d never expected overwhelmed her. Things had progressed rapidly, and maybe she should think it all through, but she remembered Diana’s advice.

  Only do what feels right.

  This felt perfectly right.

  She’d followed her desire to explore her sexuality, and it had brought her to Ian. He was her new friend and amazing lover. She looked forward to what more she might discover about herself with this special man.

  His demeanor flipped once again. He peered down at her, every bit the powerful presence one would expect of a Dom.

  Her response was instinctive and immediate. She slid back into her inferior position in their relationship, even if it was only temporary. Her gaze dropped to his feet, and she became his.

  “Look at me.”

  She raised her gaze to meet his eyes, ice blue and shocking in their intensity.

  “Tori, with this slave collar you become mine, whether you’re wearing it or not. I will always put your well-being and happiness above my needs in my dominance over you. I cherish the gift of your submission.”

  He lifted her hair and placed the collar around her neck.

  Pulling back, he smiled arrogantly down at her. “One last thing. Even though we’re switches, whenever you wear this around your beautiful neck, sweet Candi, you’ll become my slave.”

  She’d expected that but startled nevertheless when the lock clicked and the collar’s weight settled on the column of her throat. Hard. Strong. And cold on her heated flesh.

  It titillated, because for all intents and purposes, she really was his slave tonight. Would he go easy on her this first time? Anxiety fluttered through her belly and shivered along her naked skin.

  He hadn’t asked her to be his slave, he’d told her. And she again reacted instinctively, her loss of control affecting her entire being, arousing but also lowering her. And something else, too—submission to him freed her from making decisions so she could fully exist in the moment without the responsibility of choice weighing down her psyche. It was an unexpected gift.

  “As my slave, your purpose here is simple. You’re here for me to use as I see fit. Serve me as I desire. Punish when I feel the need, and train to pleasure me the way I like.”

  She shivered as a skittering fear traveled down her spine. He sounded completely serious. She knew he’d stop the minute she asked, but they had an agreement. She would see it through and hope it wouldn’t be too much for her to handle.

  He stalked around her, raising her agitation. Then it went through the roof.

  “I’m not saying we should always attempt to top our previous power-exchange sessions, but what you did in your chambers was very, very naughty. In the Royal Courts of Justice, no less. It demands suitable correction,” he intoned, sounding like a stalwart old judge. “Given that the perpetrator inflicted considerable emotional distress on her victim, it is hereby decreed—”

  “Oh, come on.” She laughed. “Admit it, you loved every minute of it.”

  “Silence! Learn your place, slave. Unless you’d like to double the punishment.” But he elaborated. “The emotional distress refers to the fact that the victim was for several moments sincerely worried that he’d be left naked and handcuffed within the chambers of a high court judge. You can imagine the great toll that took on a young, up-and-coming barrister of stellar reputation.”

  She snorted but kept her mouth closed.

  “Wise girl.” He sounded amused. “Shall we begin?”

  She glanced up at him, studied him for a second. He was all talk. All bark and no bite, as they say. They were in the Romance Suite, lovely but lacking the BDSM toys filling the rest of the club. She tried to stifle her grin.

  “What do you find so funny?”

  Her eyes flicked upward again. He still wore an expression of severe displeasure, but laughter crinkled his eyes, emboldening her. “Oh, nothing important, Master. Just that your hand is going to get quite sore bestowing all that discipline for such heinous misbehavior as you describe.” She grinned full on—this slave stuff as fun as it was arousing.

  He looked delighted. And wicked. “It would be painful, indeed. However—” He strode purposefully over to the velvet curtains that she thought covered windows. Pulling one curtain open, he revealed a wall full of toys.

  She gasped. “Oh no!”

  “Oh yes.” He smirked. “As you pointed out, administering such blistering chastisement as you’ve earned would be quite uncomfortable were I to use my hand. Thankfully, that won’t be necessary.”

  She watched, horrified, as he fingered a bamboo cane. Grinning, he asked, “How sensitive are you to pain?”

  “Very.”

  “Always address me as Sir.”

  “I’m very sensitive to pain, Sir.”

  She gasped again when his hand moved from the cane to a nasty-looking cat-o’-nine-tails. He took it off the wall and lovingly caressed the evil knotted tips. She didn’t want to ruin his fun, ruin their beautiful night, but fear scrambled her nerves.

  “Please, Sir. I’m pretty new to this stuff, but isn’t there supposed to be a safe word?” She pleaded with her eyes.

  He jerked his gaze over to her, and his arrogant demeanor evaporated. “I’ll never hurt you, and we don’t have to do this. I thought you wanted the game.”

  He walked over and helped her to stand. Sweeping her up into his arms, he moved to sit with her on his lap on the bed.

  She relaxed immediately. Her gut, her brain, and most important, her heart, told her that he would never hurt her.

  Feeling silly, she whispered, “Sir, I do want this, really. I’m so turned on right now. It’s just I think we should both have an out, if—”

  “All you ever have to do is tell me and I’ll stop, instantly. That’s all. Tell me.” He held her tightly, like he’d never let her go. “But okay, to do this right, if you reach your limit say ‘red.’ Use it wisely, because once a safe word is uttered, the game is over for the night.”

  Understanding what he meant, she nodded. If she continually modified his behavior, or he did hers when it was his turn to be the slave, then there was no true power exchange.

  He gently pushed her off his lap so she sat on the bed, and he rose to stand over her, observing her. With a casual flick of his hand, he instructed her to lower her gaze to the floor. She did but tensed, realizing he had removed her ability to object, even by facial expression, to the tool he chose for her discipline.

  A moment later, low, scraping, shuffling sounds came from across the room, as if he were lifting various items from the wall and replacing them. She wanted to break ranks and look, but she forced herself to obey, to be the slave he wanted her to be.

  He sat on the sofa across the room. “It’s time. Come here.”

  She rose and walked slowly over to him. It blew her mind how real the experience seemed, how the requirement that she go to him to receive her punishment turned her weak and vulnerable.

&
nbsp; Even though she moved at a snail’s pace, all too quickly she stood in front of him, naked, with her eyes respectfully downcast.

  And waited.

  He played on her nerves by remaining silent as seconds ticked by.

  She flicked a quick glance to the sofa, searching for the weapon, and he made tsking sound before ordering, “Turn around for me, slowly.”

  She rotated in place, the sensation of his gaze roaming her body like a gentle caress. He breathed a loving, “So beautiful.” But the pleasure flooding her was brief. “Soon your gorgeous ass will be bright red. Still beautiful, but flaming.”

  She choked, comprehending then what she should have known from the start. Everything he did was part of the game, designed to heighten her lust, make the experience more real.

  However, the knowledge did nothing to lower her anxiety. She trembled with it, panted and grew dizzy. And she was wet. Dripping.

  Mortification flared within her. Knowing he was about to spank her turned her on like a bitch in heat. It was a secret he would soon discover.

  He was a skilled actor, something she already knew from his court appearances, but her body reacted as if she didn’t. His authoritative statements and masterful behavior compelled her body to arousal. In that moment, he truly became her master, freeing her from inhibitions. He wanted this reaction from her, and as his slave it was her duty, however temporary, to give him whatever he wanted.

  With a gesture, he indicated she should drape her naked body over his clothed legs. Awkwardly, she leaned over, and he guided her down until she lay with her belly and ribs across his large thighs. He adjusted her until her bare ass was raised high, and her legs hung down one side and her head the other. He ran his hands across her bum, caressing her bare skin.

  “So beautiful.”

  The shock of assuming a position that she’d not experienced since she was young roiled through her. She was allowing herself to be spanked like an errant child by a barrister from her own court.

  It was shocking and scandalous.

  It was also fucking hot.

  She moaned, unable to stop herself.

  “Having fun, are you?” He chuckled, his roaming hand sliding between her thighs to tease her sex. When his fingers slipped between her damp folds, she trembled.