Master of Mine: Masters of Haven Book One

by Dark, Raven

  Nick pulled out a shiny black and gold plastic card—like a credit card—and handed it to the bouncer. Gwen caught sight of The Sanctuary’s insignia on the card, but the circle was shining royal purple instead of red, and the word Elite was written in elaborate golden lettering under it.

  Archer handed the bouncer an identical card. The bouncer scanned both and nodded them up the steps.

  “Wow. This place is massive,” Gwen said, looking over the mansion in wonder.

  “It is. Complete with twenty four bedrooms, six bathrooms, a tennis court, an indoor pool… Oh, and don’t forget the personal masseuse,” Nick recited over his shoulder. “Hex likes to show off.”

  Gwen laughed at the envy in his voice.

  “He’s a little jealous,” Zoe said, rubbing his back lovingly.

  Nick fell back to walk in step with her and leaned in. “Fair warning. Some of what you’ll see in here is going to be a little extreme.”

  Her throat went dry. “Extreme how?”

  “Just age play, watersports, probably some pony play.” He shrugged. “Different than you’d see at the club or at the other parties.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “What the hell is pony play?”

  “You’ll see.” Archer smirked.

  Inside, Nick led them across a huge marble foyer into a cavernous ballroom where couples danced and colored lights illuminated the half-darkness. Music throbbed from speakers.

  Padded in red and black leather, the room looked large enough to fit Gwen’s apartment inside it twice. It took effort not to stare around at the couples. Some were clad in evening dresses and suits, but others were dressed for play, the men in leather and often bare-chested, the women in teddies and bustiers or latex body suits. Collars and leashes glinted in the half-light, but it wasn’t the outfits that shocked her.

  Over in a corner, a man sat in what looked like a large playpen. He was dressed like a baby with a soother in his mouth. A few feet ahead of her, a woman trotted by wearing a horse’s head, a man leading her by reins. A long pushy tail trailed from her ass.

  Well, I guess I know what pony play is now. Gwen’s face felt like it was on fire.

  “Come on.” Nick’s voice, laced with amusement, caught her attention. Holding Zoe’s elbow, he waved Gwen and Archer toward a fully stocked bar across the room. “I’ll introduce you to our host of tonight’s debauchery.”

  He didn’t bat an eye at the pony girl or the giant baby, but Archer grinned at her expression.

  At the bar, a tall man with shaggy blond hair sauntered over and snagged a shot glass from the bartender, tossing the drink back.

  Gwen’s eyes widened. “Oh wow, I know him,” she whispered to Archer without thinking. When he leaned down to her, she added,” I’ve seen him at the hospital. That’s Hendrix Lexington. But I didn’t know he was a billionaire.”

  He chuckled. “He doesn’t look like one, does he?”

  She shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around this. She’d never talked to him, but he always came off aloof and distant, commanding and quiet, never saying much. She got the feeling he didn’t like people, yet here he was surrounded by noise and dozens of guests. And she wouldn’t have pegged him for being into kink, either. He looked more like a California surfer than a corporate mogul.

  When Nick caught his attention, Hendrix shook his hand with a clap on the back. “How you doin’ Nick.”

  Zoe stood at Nick’s side, head bowed, hands clasped, the perfect sub. Gwen couldn’t help feeling out of place and a little envious of Zoe. She blended into the scene with ease, confident in her role, always seeming to know what to do, how to act. Would Gwen ever be that comfortable in her own skin?

  Hex said nothing to Zoe and hardly seemed to notice her.

  The billionaire shook Archer’s hand. “You’re back on the scene, Archie?”

  “I am. Still getting my name wrong, I see.” But he was smiling, as if it was all in good fun.

  “Gwen,” Nick said, nodding to her, waiting awkwardly at Archer’s side, “this is Master Hex.”

  Unsure what protocol was here, Gwen glanced at Archer.

  “Say hello, sweet thing.” He nodded, his warm hand heating her back.

  The possession in the way he held her and the way he gave her permission to speak made her insides tingle. She stepped nervously toward Master Hex. “Hello, Sir.”

  Master Hex wasn’t dressed the way any billionaire would be, in faded dark jeans with artful holes in the knees and a form-fitting tee. A dusting of sandy beard hugged his jawline. With sharp ice-blue eyes, curly hair to his shoulders, and a nose that looked like it had been broken at least once, he was gorgeous, but in an arrogant, swaggering way. It surprised her that she could see a nipple piercing through his shirt.

  “So you’re Archie’s little sub,” he said in a deep, baritone voice throaty with drink. He looked her over in a way that made her think of a man assessing a particularly expensive car in a lot. “Cute little mouse,” he added to Archer.

  Unsure what to make of that, Gwen looked at the floor, wishing she could disappear into the marble tiles. It felt as if all the progress she’d made in coming out of her shell was slipping away, and she was back to being that shy, frightened girl she’d been at Christmas dinner.

  “Fuck you, Hex.” Archer squeezed her nape, and the heat of his touch comforted her even while the ownership in it made her skin sing. “Ignore him, little one. Hex isn’t people trained.”

  “Funny. Make yourselves at home.” Master Hex put his arms around two women who came over to him. “Play. Drink.” He wagged a scolding finger, his smile looking a little out of focus. “Don’t drink if you play, though. Have fun. I’ll be upstairs fucking my brains out.”

  He sauntered off toward a set of steps that split off left and right leading upstairs, the women giggling, their hands all over him.

  As soon as he’d disappeared, Gwen bent to Zoe’s ear, raising her voice only enough to be heard over the music. “Is it just me, or is he sort of an ass?”

  Zoe leaned in, keeping her head down, her voice a raised rasp. “It’s not you. He’s a nice guy once you get to know him.”

  “That’s hard to believe,” Gwen hissed back.

  Nick led the way further into the room as Zoe added, “he’s the big name in prosthetics. Made improvements on them in the last few years, and it’s made him beyond rich. He’s just little rough around the edges. Ever since his brother—”

  Before Zoe could finish, one of the partiers called over to Nick.

  “Time to mingle.” Zoe squeezed her hand before Nick tugged her toward a knot of people with a wave for Gwen and Archer. “See you a little later.”

  “Come here, sweetheart.” Archer drew her toward a couple of couches in a corner, his big hand enveloping hers. It amazed her how comfortable he made her just by being there. “You want a Coke?”

  “Please, Sir.”

  He returned to the bar to get drinks and came back to her, pulling her into his lap. Gwen sipped her Coke while Archer took a gulp of his. He set the drinks down, wrapped her in his warm arms and ran his hand through her hair in long, soothing strokes.

  “So, what do you think of this place?” His voice was incredibly calming.

  “It’s wild, Sir.” She lifted her head, watching the woman with the pony’s tail trot around an area set up like a paddock in the corner. “Is that something you’re going to do to me?”

  “Now there’s an idea.”

  Her brows went up. “Have you ever done pony play, Sir?” She wasn’t sure she wanted him to be serious or not. The idea of behaving like an animal didn’t appeal to her, but then she was fairly sure Archer could find a way to make submitting to him in any way hot as hell.

  But he shook his head. “Not my thing. But some people are really into it.”

  Gwen flashed him a teasing smile. “I’d pay good money to see you in a tail and horse head, Sir.”

  His eyes widened with a huge grin. “Not gonna happen.�
� He pinched her thigh hard enough to make her whimper. “Mouthy little sub.” He grabbed his drink, taking a swallow, then set it down and sat back. “Does any of what you see interest you?”

  She looked around, trying to take in everything at once. The big man-baby was still in his crib. Against one wall, a woman stood with her wrists and ankles cuffed to a large cross—a Saint Andrew’s Cross, she thought it was called.

  Then her eyes snagged on a man sitting back in a chair talking with Nick. Or rather, on the woman kneeling at his feet.

  Completely naked and facing with her back to Gwen, head bowed, her arms were cuffed behind her back. A silvery chain connected the cuffs to the manacles on her ankles, leaving only enough slack for her to bend over. She leaned over while the man stroked her hair idly, and Gwen caught sight of a glittering butt plug between her ass cheeks. A collar encircled her neck, and the man held the other end of the leash that hung from it. Gwen’s throat went dry.

  The woman looked so helpless, so vulnerable, so completely at the mercy of the Dom stroking her. An ache pulsed in her pussy, quickly becoming intense enough that she squirmed on Archer’s lap. The thought of Archer rendering her so helpless set every ounce of her blood ablaze.

  God, it felt as if they hadn’t fucked in months.

  His fingers curled around the back of her neck, bringing her back to him. “What’s got your attention, little one?”

  She swallowed. “Over there. The woman on her knees.”

  Archer glanced at her, and when his eyes returned to Gwen, they were alight. He made a deep, growled sound in his throat. “The bound slave?”

  She nodded mutely, heartbeat picking up pace.

  “Interesting.” His cock jabbed at her thigh.

  He liked what he saw. Would he do that to her? Her mind filled with images of all the things he would do to her while she couldn’t fight him or escape. She squeezed her thighs together, but it did nothing to relieve the pressure mounting there.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he whispered in her ear. “Do you see me fucking your mouth while your bound and on your knees, Gwen?”

  She licked her lips, her breathing fast and harsh.

  He leaned in as if he meant to say more, but stopped when his phone buzzed.

  He cursed and pulled it from his pocket. One glance and he gently lifted her from his lap. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back. Tony wants a word.”

  Any hope that tonight would bring the long awaited scene they’d discussed with Nick and Zoe slid away. Gwen concealed her disappointment and nodded, taking a seat on the couch to wait. She fidgeted.

  Archer stilled her hands with his, his eyes warm. “Nick’s right over there.” He nodded over to where Nick was still talking with the man petting his slave. “You’re safe here.”

  Gwen squeezed his hand, letting him know she was good.

  He headed toward the doors to the room and disappeared into the crowd.

  Unsure what to do with herself, she sat awkwardly, trying to look interested in what went on around her, to make sitting alone in a room where everyone seemed to be there with someone look natural.

  She glanced across the room to the kneeling woman. Her Dom was still there, but Nick had gone. She glanced around the room, but didn’t see him or Zoe anywhere.

  Unease ate at her, and she tamped it down. This place was extremely well guarded, and even if her stalker was a member of The Sanctuary, he wouldn’t know where to look for tonight’s gathering. Only the most elite members, men and women who were deep into the lifestyle, would be here. He’d never have gotten in.

  Feeling a little better with these thoughts, she focused on sipping her Coke, on watching the small cubes of ice grow smaller.

  “Gwen?”

  She jumped. Her head snapped up.

  Nick stood beside her, leaning down to be heard over the music.

  “Sorry I scared you,” he added with a smile.

  “Hi, Nick. What’s up? Where’s Zoe?”

  “Zoe’s not feeling well. She’s in the bathroom. Listen, there’s been an incident with one of the scenes in the dungeon. I’m needed, but I don’t want to leave you up here by yourself and I could use your help.”

  Gwen stood up. “Of course. Is Zoe okay?”

  “Oh, Zoe’s fine, she just ate something that didn’t agree with her. This way.” He led the way across the room and down a few hallways to a set of steps that headed downstairs near the back of the house. Gwen had to quicken her pace to keep up with his long treads.

  “What happened in the dungeon?” She assumed the person in need of help was a woman and he needed a female in the room. She wasn’t much good otherwise when it came to medical matters.

  “Hurry.” Nick quickened his steps.

  She scrunched her brows at the lack of information, but followed him down the dimly lit stairs into an even dimmer lit hallway lined with rooms on both sides. He was probably just focused on getting to whomever needed his help.

  Unlike the rest of the house with its white walls, polished wood and crystal chandeliers, the walls down here were all unadorned rough, grey stone and lit with torches. The darkness pressed in on her, the torches casting haunting shadows on the walls. It reminded her of an old castle. She shivered at the slight draft that caressed her skin.

  A man in a suit with the hard-faced, professional look of a security guard stood near the bottom of the steps, and another stood at the end of the hall. If not for the guards and Nick, the hall would have creeped her out. Especially when a woman’s low moan drifted from a room down the hall, and a loud slap echoed from another. The stone walls seemed to make the sounds carry eerily.

  At the end of the hall, Nick stepped into a large room with double doors. Gwen followed.

  As soon as she saw what was in the room, Gwen’s mouth dropped.

  At the back of the cavernous room, Zoe was bent over a pommel horse, her arms cuffed to metal brackets on the sides. There was a metal apparatus—a cage, she thought they called it—in her mouth, forcing it open. She also wore not a stitch.

  “Nick—”

  Before Gwen could turn around, the doors behind her closed, and a lock clicked into place.

  “It’s time for us to have a little fun,” Nick growled in her ear.

  34

  Savage

  Time for us to have a little fun.

  Nick’s words seeped into her with a fevered sluggishness. It felt as if Gwen’s brain was trying to play catch up. There was nothing about this situation that wasn’t a giant mindfuck.

  A look around revealed a room designed to appear as a medieval torture chamber. Gwen’s eyes widened. The room looked almost like any in the club, except that it was clearly designed for more extreme play.

  Like the hall, torches flickered on the stone walls. Chains hung from one corner, meant to suspend someone a foot off the stone floor. A strange looking wooden platform as long and wide as a man, The Rack was complete with wheels, cranks, and pullies meant to stretch the limbs tight when turned.

  A bed draped in ragged blankets dominated one half of the room. And on one wall near the bed, shackles hung, mounted at various heights so that limbs could be imprisoned in any position.

  And, at the other end of the room opposite the bed, rows of chairs took up a section obviously meant to allow spectators to come in and watch what went on in the room, though there was no one sitting in them now.

  No one there now, but would there be? Could she handle it if there was?

  Then there was Zoe, naked, ass bared, her mouth forced open with a metal cage in a position perfect for sucking. The gaping hole of her mouth… Somehow the look was both unsettling and hot in its helplessness.

  “Jesus,” Gwen rasped.

  And then there was Nick. Her boss and her best friend, having just locked her in this room with his wife bound and at his mercy. She could only assume Archer was about to show up, adding his own brand of darkness to the scene. What would he do when he came? We
akening heat coursed through her like fire.

  Oh my God. This is it. It’s happening.

  Gwen spun around. Nick stood there smirking, his eyes alight with excitement.

  For the moment, she was so shocked that she wasn’t sure how to react.

  “Where’s Archer?” She didn’t have to fake the nervous shake in her voice.

  Nick nodded to the shackles on the wall. “You don’t get to ask questions. Over there. Now.”

  Oh, fuck. He sounded so convincing. A thrill raced through her and she fought a smile at the degree to which they were willing to go in order to help her get passed her fear.

  Still unsure what the rules of this game were, it was hard to take it all in, enough that it took her a moment to realize she was supposed to be resisting.

  “Not a chance in hell. I’m not your sub, Nick.” Her own hard tone, steely with confidence she never would have felt months ago, came out with an ease that surprised her. “Why the hell is Zoe like that?” She allowed a mortified look for Nick’s wife. “Where the hell is Archer?”

  Zoe let out a soft, shaking whimper that dripped such realistic fear it almost threw her.

  Nick’s smile was wonderfully evil. “Archer was right. He said you’d be trouble. Good. I’m looking forward to this. Over there, now.” He nodded to the shackles again and reached for her.

  In a split second, it occurred to her. Nothing in the years she’d known him indicated Nick knew martial arts, which meant she couldn’t risk fighting him with real moves or she could hurt him without meaning to. Still, how would he handle it if she...

  Gwen stepped back, avoiding his hands and raised hers in a protective stance as if she would strike at need.

  “Ohh. The little warrior,” Nick cooed. “Little warrior with her yellow belt and everything.” He nodded toward Zoe. “If you fight me, you’ll only hurt her. Archer will be here any minute. You will lose against him, and I’ll make my wife pay for your insolence. Cooperate, or you both pay.”