Love Is Danger (Club Aegis Book 3)

by Christie Adams

  Once they arrived at the club, the heels and sheer black thigh-highs would have to go, of course, as would the miniskirt and the short bolero jacket. In the corset, which barely covered her nipples, and black lace thong, wearing the collar he would put around her graceful neck before they entered the public lounge at the club, she would be the most stunning sub there. Guaranteed.

  Over the last couple of weeks or so, since Stacie had recovered from her bout of flu, they’d spent as much time together as possible—unfortunately not as much as Cam would have preferred. His team in the Middle East was proving to be so successful at their job that he was now having to turn down additional work due to lack of available manpower, with the result that Cam was facing the prospect of another spell out there, just when it was the last thing he wanted or needed.

  He dragged himself away from those pessimistic thoughts. His woman had asked him a question and he still owed her an answer.

  “I think every Dom in the place will be convinced I sold my soul to the devil to have a sub like you. Now lose the skirt and the jacket.”

  First, she laid the jacket over the back of the chair behind her, and then she turned her attention to the skirt. The sexy little wiggle she gave to shimmy it over her hips lit another fire under his already blazing libido.

  With his cock already eager to find its place in her pussy, when she stood before him the level of discomfort at the top of his thighs increased a hundredfold. He made a circular motion with his finger and she turned slowly in response, a full circle until she was facing him again.

  “You look incredible, honey.”

  Cam moved to the centre of the long sofa. They were at his place—the lighting was low, and behind Stacie was the panoramic nighttime view of the city. And Christ, how he wanted her.

  “Now take off the panties and come here.”

  She wobbled slightly on the impossible heels as she obeyed his command. A little uncertainly, she stood just in front of him.

  “On my lap, knees here—” he patted the sofa to either side of his thighs “– and put your hands on the back. I want your pussy here.” He put a hand over the bulge in his jeans.

  She moved into position—it was the sweetest agony he’d ever known and judging by the gasp she gave, she wasn’t expecting to feel the hard length of him against her moist folds.

  “Now, listen carefully. You are not to move your hands—no matter what I do, they stay there. You can move your hips, but you are not permitted to break contact with me. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He began by running his hands over the boned satin that encased her torso. She was, quite simply, a living example of the corsetiere’s art. The corset fastened down the front as well as lacing at the back, so very slowly—tormenting himself as much as he was tormenting her—he unhooked the front, just enough to enable him to lift her breasts out. As her nipples were on a level with his face, all he needed to do to draw the hard, puckering tips into his mouth was lean forward.

  He could never get enough of the way she tasted—sweeter than honey, smoother than cream. Her body was made for his pleasure, and he knew just how to use that body to send her spiralling out of control. His teeth grazed her nipple—she threw her head back in response, and in doing so gave herself up to the mastery he had over her willing flesh. He drew harder on her nipple, knowing she’d feel the sharp sting of pain zero in on her clit…knowing she loved it.

  His arms wrapped around her waist and hips held her in position. As he continued to tease her breasts with his mouth, the sounds she was making became more and more urgent. Her hips began to move, undulating back and forth, grinding her pussy against his denim-covered dick, just the way he intended.

  Cam stopped suckling her breast long enough to take in her enraptured expression. Her eyes were tightly shut, almost as if she were in agony.

  “Look at me, honey.”

  His voice, although a whisper, still held the power of command. With a visible effort, she opened eyes glazed with pleasure and met his gaze.

  “Do it, Stacie. Ride me,” he urged. “Take what you need. And keep your eyes open.”

  She was gasping now, perilously close to her climax. Would she ask for permission, the way he’d trained her to?

  “Please, Sir. I need…may I come?”

  “Not yet, honey. Ride me some more. That’s it.”

  She was pushing down hard now, fucking his cock through his jeans. Her movements were getting jerky, less controlled, and his need to get inside her was growing more and more imperative. He unfastened the corset completely and flung it to one side, then lifted Stacie away from him and laid her down on the sofa.

  The fly of his jeans was wet with her juices, but he didn’t let that distract him from freeing his aching shaft. Then he was on top of her, wrapping one leg around his hip as he went fast and deep inside her, his instincts as primitive and savage around her as they always seemed to be now. That primal drive to claim her as his mate meant that every time he made love to her, he wanted to mark her somehow as his. So everyone would know.

  “Come for me, beautiful. Now.”

  She needed no further encouragement. Close to his own climax, he felt her convulse around his dick as she cried out, almost as if in pain. With a harsh, rasping cry of his own, he came too, relishing each exquisitely violent jerk as he filled her with his seed.

  Stacie didn’t want to let him go.

  Naked beneath Cam, his cotton shirt as soft against her skin as his jeans were rough, she’d never felt more possessed by the man who’d claimed her heart, her body and her soul. She wanted to tell him how she felt, wanted it so much, but she was too afraid that it would spoil the moment.

  More than that, she was terrified that it might destroy everything that they had.

  His cock still inside her, his body a welcome weight on hers, she stroked the back of his head. He’d let his hair grow longer over the last few weeks—it had softened the military look considerably, but at the same time it made him seem more dangerous. Bad-boy dangerous.

  The contradiction teased her lips into a small smile. How could he seem more dangerous when she’d never felt more protected? The sense of belonging that he gave her was precious beyond belief.

  On her way back down to earth, Stacie suddenly realised that Cam was chuckling…that low, sexy laugh that she always found very difficult to resist. “What are you laughing at? Sir?”

  He lifted his head to look at her and planted a brief smacker of a kiss on her lips. “I haven’t done anything like this since I was sixteen!”

  What had he been like as a teenager? The question popped into her mind and she pictured a lanky youth with tousled blond hair…or had he been forced to grow into a man too quickly, living in a series of homes that had been anything but that? Allusions to his past had hinted at time spent in the care system, and for him to have joined up at the earliest opportunity, as he’d also told her at one point…it all suggested a childhood no child should ever have to endure and a desire to leave it all behind as soon as possible.

  “So who was she?”

  “Who was who?”

  “The woman to whom you lost your virginity.” Stacie wasn’t jealous, just curious. “And how old were you at the time?”

  His mouth quirked up in a half-smile. “You really want to know?”

  Keeping her expression light and jokey, she nodded. “Of course I do. So?”

  “So…” He drew out the word, considering his response. “I was fifteen—she was thirty-eight and my then-best friend’s mother. Close your mouth, Stace, or you’ll be in trouble if the wind changes direction.”

  He was completely unabashed, while Stacie was struggling to find the words. “But…wasn’t that…you were…wouldn’t it be…?”

  “It was the night before my sixteenth birthday. What can I say?” He shrugged, trying to look innocent. “At least she waited till after midnight, so I was legal. Just. Veronica was divorced, and when she needed some furn
iture moving that weekend, Phil was two hundred miles away, visiting his father.”

  “And it absolutely had to be that weekend?”

  “Apparently.”

  “So she asked a fifteen-year-old schoolboy?”

  He gave her a little-boy grin guaranteed to vaporise any woman’s panties with laser-like precision. “Technically, I was sixteen when she did the deed. And I was big for my age!”

  Stacie looked pointedly in the direction of his groin. “I bet you were!”

  It earned her a reprimanding look.

  “As I said, I was supposed to be helping her move furniture in the bedroom, and she seduced me. The third time I was with her was when she asked me to handcuff her to the bed and spank her until she came.”

  And at that, Stacie started coughing…choking actually, until Cam sat up and pulled her upright with him. “Relax, try to remember how to breathe, and I’ll get you some water.”

  She gratefully sipped the cool liquid while Cam explained that it had been Veronica’s parting gift, bestowed over a small but memorable number of occasions before he joined the Army—an introduction to bondage and discipline and later, to Domination and submission.

  “And then I joined up and didn’t give it another thought, not until Alex and I were on a training exercise in the US. That changed everything. Better now?” He took the glass from her.

  “Yes, thanks.” Stacie looked down at her lap and suddenly realised that she was still naked and in need of a shower. “Hadn’t we better—”

  “In a minute. There’s something I need to ask you, Stace. Are you all right with this? Us?”

  She frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “I mean the age difference.”

  She couldn’t help the frown. The conversation about the older woman must have been the trigger for the question. Although he’d never mentioned it before, it was clearly something that really bothered him. For the life of her, Stacie couldn’t figure out why. “Cam? I’ve never given the age difference a thought—it doesn’t matter one bit to me. It’s just a number, and not a big one at that. All that matters to me is being with you.” It was the simple, unvarnished truth.

  For a few seconds he just looked at her, then acknowledged her statement with a nod, as if he didn’t trust himself to comment further on it. “Okay. Shower now, then we’ll talk some more about the club.”

  ~~*~~

  “Ready, beautiful?”

  Seated beside Cam in the Jaguar, Stacie smoothed her palms down the suddenly frighteningly short skirt, taking care not to risk snagging the sheer black thigh-highs—not that it would have mattered that much, as they would be coming off soon…once she was inside Club Aegis, in the changing room to which one of the house subs would take her on Cam’s instructions. Shoes, thigh-highs, thong and jacket—all would come off, and then she’d emerge to meet her Dom and enter the club proper. She took a deep breath, using it to help her get into the right place in her mind.

  “Yes, Sir—I am.”

  “Good girl. You know what to do when we go in?”

  She repeated what he’d told her, right down to the moment when she would join him in the lobby…and he would put the narrow collar around her neck, which would signify that she was with him. She’d also be provided with a color-coded wristband that would indicate that she was a sub who wasn’t looking for a Dom—it shouldn’t be needed, but it would provide an additional layer of protection.

  Nerves roiled in her stomach as she followed Cam into the club. The confidence she’d gained from the kiss he’d given her before they got out of the car evaporated as she stood behind him at the reception desk while he signed her in. Her eyes were fixed on the centre of his back at waist level—she didn’t dare look to one side or the other, and it wasn’t just because she was a sub and that was what a sub was supposed to do.

  “Stacie, it’s time. Go with Emma and be back here in ten minutes.”

  The voice was Cam’s…but not Cam’s. Nerves fluttered again in Stacie’s stomach. This wasn’t a game anymore, it was very real, and Cam had certain expectations of her behaviour…behaviour that would reflect on him as her Dom. Moisture pooled in her pussy at the thought. Snap out of it.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Emma was a sub—that much was blatantly obvious. Barefoot, she wore a skirt not unlike Stacie’s in length, and with it a sort of halter-neck soft leather harness, an arrangement of straps that framed her pert breasts while leaving them uncovered, rather like a very kinky bra.

  Stacie had expected the changing room to be like a locker room in a gym, so she wasn’t prepared for the luxury that greeted her when she followed the petite brunette inside…nor was she prepared for the sudden change in Emma’s demeanour. From being calm, controlled and respectful, all of a sudden she was bouncy and outgoing, and bubbling over with enthusiasm.

  “Hi, Stacie! It’s great to meet you at last. When we heard that Master Cameron was making his first visit in months, and what’s more, bringing a new sub with him, we all wondered what you’d be like. Welcome to Aegis!”

  “Thanks.” Stacie managed a shaky smile. “This place is just…” She waved her hand around the room, trying to find the right words.

  “Isn’t it just? I’ve been to a couple of other clubs, and although the facilities for the subs are good, they’re nothing like this.”

  The changing room was more like a relaxing salon, beautifully furnished and decorated, with mirrors on the walls and comfortable seating all around. There were lockers in a separate room, with cubicles for privacy, and bathroom facilities, including space-age showers, that were downright decadent.

  “Your belongings will be safe here,” Emma told her. “It’s an honour system. Sub outfits don’t tend to have much room for pockets, so carrying a locker key around usually isn’t feasible. I’m sure Master Cameron’s told you all about the club and expected standards of behaviour.”

  “He has.” It had been a highly informative lecture with questions afterwards—not that it had put her off wanting to visit the place.

  “And now you’re wondering what you’ve let yourself in for. Every sub does. Trust your Dom, Stacie. It’s a Dom’s role to look after their sub, and with Master Cameron, you’ve got one of the best.

  “Now, I’ll leave you to get ready—we’ve already used nearly half your time as it is. When you’re ready for a locker, you’ll see a little panel on the front, with a sliding cover. Move the cover one way, and it shows green—move it the other way, and it’s red. Green means it’s available for use, but if the panel’s red, it means the locker’s being used and is therefore out of bounds. When you’re ready, just go back the way we came—out of the door, turn left and keep going. It’ll take you straight to the lobby and reception.”

  And with that Emma was gone, before Stacie had a chance to ask any of the gazillion questions suddenly buzzing around in her head.

  She looked in the mirror and took a deep breath—not that she really had time for that particular luxury. She didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot on her first outing as Cam’s—her Master’s sub, even if it was just to spend an hour or two at the club, finding out what it was all about.

  Focus. Stacie found a locker for her belongings. There was a hanger in it for her jacket and plenty of room for the other items she would be leaving in there—bag, shoes, thigh-highs…and thong. Cam had had a change of heart regarding her clothes, so while she got to keep the skirt, she had to lose the thong. At least the corset stayed in place, although Stacie had the rather unnerving suspicion that it was a concession to this being her first visit to Aegis. When and if she returned, she had the distinct feeling that she’d be wearing something not unlike Emma’s outfit…if it could even be called an outfit at all. That would be like calling a sandwich a seven-course banquet.

  Hoping that she hadn’t overstayed in the changing room, Stacie braced herself to go out to the public area where she was to meet Cam—her Dom. Emma had referred to him as Master
Cameron—although he’d signed her birthday card as Master C, a title that she’d heard others use, he still hadn’t said anything to her about calling him simply Master—a form of address, according to her research, that tended to be reserved for the special relationship between a Dom and sub who were intimately, emotionally involved. Even if she couldn’t use the word aloud, it didn’t stop her thinking of him that way.

  Especially when she laid eyes on the man at reception—and boy, was he all man. One look at him, and her pussy was sobbing in complete and utter surrender. It wasn’t just on its metaphorical knees—it was prostrate in front of him.

  He’d changed too, and was now wearing the boots, leather trousers and leather waistcoat-style vest that she’d already seen him in on several occasions. In this setting, however, he wore them in such a way that made him seem so much more the Dom. The whole look of him made her skin prickle with needy arousal. Mouth dry, she walked towards him. Nerves made her forget her manners for a moment, and then her mouth snapped shut. She didn’t have permission to speak, so she waited until he finished talking with another man—another Dom, judging by his dress.

  Stacie didn’t dare look Cam in the face, but she felt his eyes on her, and when he spoke—a single word—she felt pleasure bloom within her.

  “Beautiful.”

  A finger under her chin lifted her head, giving her the opportunity to look at him properly. All she could think was that she could say exactly the same about him. It was like seeing him in high definition—he was all Dom and then some.

  “Give me your wrist, honey.”

  The narrow band was red, and after he’d put it on her wrist, Cam held up his hand—on his wrist was a blue band, which, he explained, indicated that he was a Dom who wasn’t looking for someone to scene with.