by Kate Allure
Whop!
She forgot all about her need to climax as a fiery streak blazed across the back of her thighs.
“Ow!” she screeched, realizing she’d been caned.
Whop! The second landed across her bare ass.
“That hurts!” she cried. “Stop. Safe word! We need a safe word!”
Whop!
She screamed again. He’d hit her in the same burning spot on her thighs. She shuddered, and tears slipped from her eyes, wetting her blindfold.
He’d struck her again after she begged him to stop. Why would he do that?
She twisted around, trying in vain to see him, but only blackness greeted her.
“Please stop. Please!” She cried openly now.
“Shh,” came quiet comfort. “Shh,” he said again, while a hand brushed her back softly.
A whirring vibrator pressed against her clit, and she struggled to pull away from the invasion.
“No, stop! I don’t want this anymore,” she yelled, but he increased the speed. Now she battled her own body as well as the restraints. She did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her orgasm. Not now, and not ever again.
As the detested white-hot light started to flood her mind, a knock sounded on the door.
“Damnation!” He pulled the vibrator from her, and it hit the ground with a thud.
Her entire body juddered, twitched, and froze like an electrical shock wave had passed through her.
It wasn’t Ian in the room with her.
Footsteps sounded on the floor, moving toward the door.
“Rupert!” she screamed. “Let me up. Let me up right this bloody fucking minute!”
He didn’t answer her but opened the door, his voice a snarl. “I’m not ready yet. She hasn’t popped.”
“Excuse me?” Condescension dripped like hot wax in the woman’s tone.
She recognized the voice. Rupert’s Domme, Mistress Polly.
His attitude changed instantly. “I’m sorry, Mistress. Please forgive my insolence. I wanted everything to be perfect for you, but I need a little more time to make her orgasm.”
Tori bucked wildly against her restraints, the leather not giving.
Between sobs, she repeated, almost incoherently, “Let me up! Fuck you, Rupert!”
“What’s this?” the woman asked, her voice loud and demanding.
“Polly! Please release me,” Tori yelled from across the room. “I am not okay.”
“Do you mean to tell me, Nappie, that this woman is restrained against her will?”
“He tricked me.” Anger made Tori’s voice strong even as more tears seeped from behind her blindfold, the fire burning her backside like a red-hot brand. “I didn’t agree to this! Well, not with him.”
“How dare you bring me into something like this!” shouted the Domme.
“No. It’s not like that,” Rupert whined. “Victoria and I are meant to be together. She needs to understand that I can be every bit as adventurous as any other guy here.”
The woman’s staccato footsteps advanced toward Tori.
Rupert continued rambling. “We were having fun, and she was on the verge of coming. I only needed another minute.”
“Shh. It’s okay,” Polly said to Tori as she rapidly undid the restraints.
“No, wait!” Rupert cried. “We can’t let her up until she comes. She needs to understand. I have to show her. She belongs with us…to both of us.”
The Domme ignored his outburst, removing Tori’s blindfold and helping her off the bench. She walked her to the bed and wrapped her in a quilt. “You’re safe now,” she said, murmuring other comforting words. “Just rest here a moment.”
Tori watched as this gentle woman transformed before her eyes into a commanding presence. Standing tall, Mistress Polly ordered him to his knees. Quickly he complied, head downcast, all the while still begging her forgiveness.
“It’s not my forgiveness you should be pleading for,” Mistress Polly retorted. “But hear this, Nappie, we’re through, and you are finished here at this club.”
“It’s all a big misunderstanding.” Barely glancing at Tori, he threw out, “I’m sorry, Victoria.” He prostrated himself on the floor in front of the Domme, pleading for her to relent.
Mistress Polly turned and looked at Tori. “I’m going to call for the monitors, but do you want a chance to repay him in kind first?” She picked up the discarded cane from the floor.
Tori looked at it, hardly believing that the thin reed of bamboo could have caused such intense pain. Anger fueled her with vigor, and she lurched off the bed. Dragging the blanket wrapped around her body with her, she marched to the prostrate Rupert.
She wanted to kick him. Spit on him. Screech at him.
She did none of these things.
Sucking in an energizing lungful of air, she centered her mind.
Mistress Polly held the cane out to her, but Tori shook her head. Raising her chin and standing tall, she let every ounce of her judge’s authority reek in her tone. “No. He’s not worth the effort.”
“As you wish.” The Domme dipped her head in acquiescence.
“I just want him gone.” Tori walked over and pressed a button on the wall as Rupert continued sniveling on the floor. Within a minute, the room was swarming with staff.
Miss Devine arrived shortly afterward, and once she understood the situation, a look of horror crossed her face. She apologized profusely and repeatedly.
Wrapped in the quilt, Tori felt every inch of her naked embarrassment before the Chanel-suited house manager. Tori eyed her clothes where they lay by the litter, wishing they would magically appear on her body.
“It’s okay. It’s clear the bastard tricked us both,” Tori said, pleased with the strength in her tone.
Rupert had risen from the floor and regained his stiff British demeanor. His tone condescending, he maintained it was all a misunderstanding and that he was being wrongfully accused.
Miss Devine flicked her hand, and two large men started to drag him from the room.
“Wait!” Tori ordered.
They stopped, and everyone in the room looked at her.
She looked down her nose at Rupert. “I want to know how you managed to trick me. I was supposed to meet someone else here tonight. Why were you here instead?”
More than she’d wanted anything in her life, she had to understand why Ian wasn’t here right now. Why hadn’t he saved her from this nightmare?
Even strung between two large men, Rupert somehow managed to look haughty. “That was simple enough. I told the stupid young man we were back together, and he left.”
Tori stalked closer, still clutching her blanket about her body. “I don’t believe you. He wouldn’t have left without confirming it with me.”
“But he did, dearest. In fact, I watched him leave with another woman as you were being paraded as my slave.”
Rupert tilted his head, looking pityingly at her. “She was very pretty and so young. Odd that he even considered dillydallying with a woman of your advanced age.”
His derision, coming from a man she’d long admired and who she had believed cared for her, hit Tori with the force of a punch to the gut. Her stomach curdling, she bent over, fighting the nausea.
It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t! She didn’t want to believe it was possible that Ian had betrayed her twice.
She shut her eyes against this new pain, but no way would she let Rupert win. She sucked in a harsh breath and dragged her body upright, forcing her chin high. “I don’t believe you.”
Her eyes roved the room, despair and confusion turning her mind to mush. Miss Devine watched her, looking sad.
“Did he?” Tori asked her. “Is Rupert—Napoleon—telling the truth?”
A sympathetic expression on her face, Miss Devine stepped closer to her, but she didn’t answer. “I don’t have the full circumstances about what happened in here, but from what Mistress Polly told me, you have the right to press cha
rges against Napoleon. Would you like us to call the police?”
Startled, Tori weighed the ramifications quickly and dismissed the idea. Looking at Rupert, her tone as chilly as ice, she said, “I won’t press charges because I don’t want my name publicly associated with this club. I’m sure you don’t, either, Baron. In return for my leniency, I expect you to never, ever contact me again.”
His superior attitude firmly back in place, he said with a snort, “You know as well as I do that you were getting off on it. If I’d had a few more minutes, I would have you begging for—”
“Do not force my hand.”
“Okay, okay. Calm down. I don’t need you or this place. There are attractive females everywhere who would—”
The house manager flicked her wrist again, and the men dragged him from the room even as he kept on ranting. Mistress Polly followed him out, but the house manager stayed behind.
“I am truly sorry,” Miss Devine repeated, distraught. “I had no idea what was going on, but I should have. I manage this club, and everything that goes on under its roof is my responsibility. Because you had dinner here with Napoleon the other night, I mistakenly thought the two of you were lovers. I sincerely apologize and offer my deepest regrets.”
“Just tell me the truth. Did Randy leave with another woman?”
Miss Devine hesitated. She placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I believe so.”
Horrible pain sucker punched Tori again, the emotional distress as penetrating and real as any physical blow could ever be. She doubled over and didn’t fight it this time as her mind fought a truth that still didn’t make any sense.
Why would Ian believe Rupert? Why hadn’t he asked her first before leaving?
But facts were facts. He must not have cared very much that she was meeting another man or he would have confronted her about it. Then he’d left with another woman, a much younger woman, and that somehow hurt even more.
He left me here to be tied up and beaten. Sickened, his betrayal hurt far worse than the three flaming reminders of Rupert’s sadism.
Miss Devine placed a hand on Tori’s back, gently comforting her. “I can’t identify who Randy left with for privacy reasons, but it won’t break any rules to say that I think she is an old friend.”
Tori hated pity. She stood up straight and stepped away. Head held high, she said, “It’s fine, really. We are nothing to each other. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get dressed and go home.”
“Yes, of course. Please let me put the club’s car at your disposal. It’s the least we can do.”
After giving her a few minutes to dress, Miss Devine returned with some hot tea and biscuits. Sitting with her on the suite’s divan, Tori drank some of the comforting beverage and nibbled on a cookie while a staff member retrieved her coat and her personal things from her locker in the ladies’ dressing room.
Finally, Miss Devine walked her out of the club. Tori ignored the curious looks from other club members, but mostly Club Exotica hummed along with its obscene activity. An hour had passed, and there was no sign of Rupert or the big commotion.
Tori settled, exhausted, into the lush interior of the club’s limousine. The house manager insisted on escorting her all the way home, even though Tori said it wasn’t necessary.
On the drive, Miss Devine continued to apologize. “Ms. Candi, on behalf of Club Exotica, I extend to you again our heartfelt regret for the mix-up. I’m going to implement new rules to ensure it doesn’t happen again, but there’s really no excuse for such a lapse.”
Tori could probably get her fired for such a dangerous mistake—one that might have resulted in the police being called in and bringing public scrutiny to a place that was, at present, so secret no outsider could confirm its existence. But she didn’t feel anger toward Miss Devine. Her fury had only one target.
“I accept your apology. I don’t hold you responsible, but I’m glad you’re instituting safeguards. It was a highly unusual circumstance. Napoleon… Ha! I guess there’s no reason to respect his privacy anymore. Rupert is unhinged, something he managed to hide even from me, and we dated for several years.”
“Lord Bridlington has already been expelled from the club. I’ve full authority to rescind membership as needed. He’ll never set foot inside again. Also, I was thinking, with your permission, I could call Randy and explain. Tell him it was a big misunderstanding.”
“No. That’s not necessary.”
He left with another woman, and Tori didn’t ever want to talk to him again.
The limousine pulled up to her Canary Wharf high-rise.
“As you wish. Please accept my personal apologies. If there is ever anything I can do for you, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.” Miss Devine reached out and placed her hand on Tori’s, giving it a little squeeze. “Thank you, truly. You’ve a generous spirit. See, I knew you’d be perfect for our little club.”
Tori almost pulled her hand back. “Actually, I haven’t made up my mind yet that I want to become a member. After tonight, I need to be sure it’s right for me.”
Miss Devine released her hand. “Yes, of course, but I hope you’ll give us another chance. Anytime you would like to come by, we would welcome you as our guest, gratis.”
Tori thanked her but said it was unlikely she’d want to return anytime soon. The offer would remain open indefinitely, replied Miss Devine.
When Tori entered her building, her trusty doorman, Johnny, was nowhere about. She could use some of his cheeriness tonight.
Exhaustion and sadness filled her, but worst of all, she dreaded running into Ian in the Royal Courts. She made a promise to herself—not from any word or expression would he ever know that his betrayal had gutted her. If he thought she’d betrayed him with an old boyfriend, so be it. Obviously, he didn’t care too much about her if he could blithely enjoy making love to another woman on the very night he’d planned to be with her.
Tori clutched tightly to the only solace left to her, determined that Ian would remain forever unaware of how deeply he’d hurt her and how much she mourned his loss.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Tori unlocked the door to her flat, but her luxurious home no longer filled her with pleasure as it had before. Instead of a sense of achievement, tonight it seemed sadly empty.
“Shake it off,” she muttered. She wasn’t going to let the male species get her down. Their betrayal wouldn’t shape her life, but she couldn’t fool herself that it didn’t hurt. Her heart wouldn’t let her.
She locked her door and flipped the foyer light on.
“Shake it off, Tori,” she repeated while hanging her jacket in the closet.
“Shake what off?”
Foreboding slithered up her spine.
Whirling about, she swept her gaze across the open-plan kitchen and sitting room to find him relaxing as if he owned the place on her favorite wing-back chair by the windows. It looked like he’d helped himself to her favorite wine, as well.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Rupert took a sip of her wine.
Marching over, she demanded, “How did you get into my flat? I got my key back from you the night we broke up.”
He smiled up at her, an eerily friendly, slightly vacant look on his face. And took yet another sip of her wine.
In a near shout, she repeated, “How did you get into my apartment?”
“Easy-peasy, my dearest. The staff downstairs know we have been together for years. They’re also cognizant of my importance as member of the peerage and the House of Lords. Johnny was only too happy to let me in when I told him I had lost my key and wanted to surprise you with a special dinner to celebrate our engagement.”
With the glimmer of a nasty grin on his face, he raised his glass to her in salute…and took another sip of wine. “He says congratulations, by the way.”
“We are not engaged, and you—”
“I have planned a special celebration you will not soon f
orget.”
Her foreboding exploded into alarm. He was behaving strangely, so unlike the milquetoast boyfriend she’d known for years. But then again, she’d never really known his true character.
Shifting her stance wider and taking a deep breath, she pulled on her reserve of high court hauteur. “I insist you leave my flat. Right now.”
Never taking his eyes off hers, he took another sip. “Delicious. You always did have the best taste in wine, Victoria.” He set the glass down on the side table.
She sidled backward, edging toward the door.
In an instant, he jumped up and grabbed her arm, pulling her into his embrace. “Did you forget that tonight is our three-year anniversary? I think it is high time we finalize our engagement. But we have some things to settle first.”
“Let go of me.” Trying to mollify him, she added, “Then we can talk.”
“I regret we were interrupted earlier before I could demonstrate that I am more than enough man for you. I will remedy that now.”
“What?” she cried, pushing on his arms, but they remained locked around her like a vise. “You’re out of your bloody mind if you think we’re going to have sex—”
He squeezed her waist, and her breath whooshed out. He spoke quietly into her ear. “Let me tell you how this is going to unfold, dearest. First, I am going to punish you for refusing me earlier tonight. Then we are going to finish what we started. You need to be taught how truly compatible we are.”
He kissed her on the neck, and she shivered, revulsion making her skin crawl.
“We’re not compatible. Now let me go.”
He tsked and gave her a little shake. “I will have to train that out of you—your regrettable tendency to lie. We both know you were on the verge of climaxing under my firm hand. I only needed another minute and you would have accepted the truth…that we are perfect for each other, in and out of bed.”
“I was not about to—”
He pinched her nipple hard through her blouse, causing her to squeal.
“Do not lie to me,” he said, sounding weirdly calm. “We will go forward with our plans to get married, and it will be the best of both worlds, dearest. In public, you will be my perfect, respectable wife. In private—” He chuckled, gently squeezing the same breast he’d just pinched. “In private, we will continue to play wicked games at Club Exotica. I have learned I like topping, after all. Well, topping you, anyway.”
