by Lynda Aicher
“It can be if we choose so.” He was so positive and strong and made everything sound so simple. Kind of like Marcus did. She wasn’t used to resolving things that easily.
The night air was chilly when they walked out of the restaurant. Quinn zipped up her coat and huddled into the thin warmth. She’d need to buy a warmer jacket if it got much colder.
“I hope I see you Sunday,” Lance said as he walked to her car.
“I’ll let you know.” They stopped next to Quinn’s rental.
“Hey. You never told me what that part was you’re here researching.”
“Oh, that.” Quinn grinned, the heat rushing to her face. She’d have to stop doing that if she was going to play the part of a sexy submissive. “It’s for a new premium channel series. I can’t really discuss it yet.” That wasn’t completely true, but he wouldn’t know that.
His laugh bounded into the night. “I’m sure it’ll be in the gossip rags soon. Anything that’s supposed to be secret is always leaked.” He did finger quotes around the last word.
He was right, but Quinn really hoped this one would stay quiet for a while. She wasn’t ready to face the public scrutiny of the new role. Not while she was here, at least. In California, she could put on one of her many roles and brazen through. But somehow, in this place so distant from everything she knew, she’d finally found a space where she didn’t have to play a role to survive. She could just be herself, and everyone still seemed to like her.
And that was something she’d never expected when she’d decided to come to Minneapolis.
Chapter Twenty-One
Marcus swung the paddle, the hard crack of wood on skin firing through the Dungeon. The loud wail of the sub was backed by a, “Thank you, sir. Another, please.”
Sweat beaded across the broad shoulders and lower back of his long-standing client. Bound to the bench, the man had no way of escaping, yet he still struggled against the straps that held his wrists, knees and ankles in place. It was all part of the Scene.
“Hold still,” Marcus barked. He gripped the thick brown hair of the man and jerked his head up until the strain kept him immobile. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” The reply was thin and reedy, caused by the impossible arch of his throat. His face flushed a beet red as he waited for Marcus to release the hold. “I’m sorry, sir.”
He kept a grip on his hair and released another smack across his naked ass. The man hissed out a breath, but he didn’t move. This sub loved the struggle and he wanted the forced submission, to a degree. Marcus hit him twice more, and the sub finally let go. He stopped resisting, his muscles going lax as his eyes drifted closed.
“Thank you, sir.” The sub panted a few breaths. “More...please.”
The rush of adrenaline surged through Marcus. Every time he reached this point with a sub, he got that intoxicating high. It was the knowledge that he’d done this, given the sub exactly what he or she needed to achieve their high. Every client was different, making each one a complex puzzle for him to master.
This was his third client in two nights and he was finally back in his zone.
He lowered the man’s head down and lightly caressed the tender roots that he’d abused. The sub moaned in gratitude. He smoothed his hand down the man’s back, appreciating the muscled contours. This sub was well-built and took great care with his appearance. Marcus respected that. He wasn’t into men in a sexual way, but as Dom, he took pleasure in a well-formed body. Having all of that power under his command was incredible.
The man’s ass was a deep, bright red. It would bruise by tomorrow. Marcus set the paddle aside and grabbed the black butt plug from the cart. He squatted at the man’s head and clicked the lube cap. The sub’s eyes snapped open, his breath hitching.
“You’re going to take this.” He drizzled the lubricant over the large, tapered plug then pumped it through his fist to coat it. “No complaints.”
The sub eyed the plug with longing. “Yes, sir.”
Marcus ran his fingers under a wrist cuff to check the man’s pulse before moving back to admire his paddle work. The red contrasted nicely with the pale white of his lower thighs and the pink flesh of his ball sack. Just behind that, the man’s dick was hard and heavy, the tip an angry reddish purple.
The plug went in with a fair amount of resistance. Marcus took his time, working the object in and out of the sub’s anus while ensuring a number of the strokes rubbed over the prostate. When he finally pushed the flared end past the tight ring of outer muscles, the sub groaned. It didn’t matter if it was male or female taking his toys. It had the same heady effect on him.
The sub wiggled his ass, and Marcus slapped one of his cheeks. “Hold still.”
The submissive stopped. “Yes, sir.”
He twisted the plug a little just to see the man struggle. This sub didn’t profess to be gay. But what he got at The Den was something he wasn’t comfortable admitting he needed to others in his life. For Marcus, there was a certain amount of pride that came with knowing he could provide this. The man trusted him with a secret he couldn’t share with those he was closest to.
Marcus picked up the paddle and smoothed his hand over the red cheeks. “Five more. Plus an extra for wiggling.”
“Yes, sir.” The eagerness was still his voice, letting Marcus know he was still into the Scene.
He kept the next hits measured and consistent, each one landing across the flat end of the butt plug. The vibration and force would tease the man at every strike. He finished the five and paused.
“Thank you, sir.” The response was faint and breathy. The sub was close to his zone. “You promised one more, sir. Please.”
Marcus put all of his muscle in the last strike. The sub cried out, tears leaking from his eyes. He reached between the man’s legs and jacked his erection. “Come for me.”
The man groaned, bucked and came. His ejaculation splattered over the mat, and Marcus pumped him through the orgasm.
He stepped back, his heart pounding. He sucked in air and let them both come down for a minute before he slowly eased the plug from the man’s ass. The sub didn’t move at all. The man was deep in subspace now, lost to the world and floating on the endorphin high.
Marcus moved around the bench, releasing the cuffs and checking each limb for damage. He grabbed a thin blanket off the cart and draped it over the man. This submissive liked to be covered once the Scene was done. It’d be a while before he was ready to move, but that was fine. There was never any rush. This was all part of their bi-weekly agreement. One that had been interrupted for over three months due to the club being closed.
He kneeled by the man’s head and pressed a kiss to his sweaty temple. “Thank you. You were wonderful.” He meant it too. He fully appreciated the gift people gave to him when they submitted. And he always made sure they knew that. It was his way. It was probably the lingering byproduct of his upbringing to never take anything for granted.
He nodded to a waiting service sub and moved away. The other submissive would see to the man’s aftercare. She was a regular who’d done this many times for this man. It worked for all of them.
Marcus grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his brow and neck as he stretched his shoulder to relieve the dull ache that lingered. A glance around the room confirmed that the night was picking up. Over half of the Dungeon equipment was in use, which was good for a weeknight. Business was back to normal.
He turned around and headed toward the employee locker room for a quick shower and a cold bottle of water. He’d only taken two steps before he froze. A flash of fierce pride expanded his chest when he saw Quinn standing along the wall. He’d been in his zone during the Scene, giving the sub exactly what the man wanted. The fact that she’d obviously witnessed part of it flushed him with a warm glow of satisfaction. He was damn good at his job and she’d seen that.
In the next moment he registered her expression. Her eyes were wide, mouth parted in an expression of stunned s
hock or awe. He didn’t know which and a cold sense of dread swooped in to replace the warmth. With her meeting her brother, they hadn’t seen each other last night and now she was confronted with visual proof of Marcus’s job. Fuck.
His gut tightened and he gripped the towel before moving to her. The strapless dress was painted on her and hugged the mounds of her breasts, showing each deep breath she took. The hickey marks he’d given her Sunday had faded, but the ghost of a dark trail could be seen from her collar to the dress line. Her hair fell down her back in long, white waves exactly as he liked it.
She’d dressed to please him and she looked fantastic except for the lingering look of confusion that marred her brow.
“What are you doing here?” He didn’t mean to sound so gruff, but he disliked that she’d been at The Den without him at her side. The fucking bouncer was supposed to notify him when she arrived. The thought of her wandering around the club on her own fired his anger and he grasped onto that instead of his growing fear.
She was poised to run. He could sense that, just like he could see her pulse racing right above her collar.
Their discussion about his job hadn’t included her seeing him in action with someone else. And a male sub at that. He’d never been bothered by anyone watching him. It was part of the Dom element he loved. But Quinn’s growing look of disappointment shredded his high.
She lifted her chin, and he could almost see her defenses rising as she dropped into one of her roles. Damn it. She spun around and strode away without saying a word, her ass swinging with each graceful step in the impossibly high heels she always wore.
“Quinn.” She froze at the sharp bark of her name, back rigid, hands fisted. “Do not walk away from me.”
Whether she realized it or not, she was blatantly testing him. The sudden pressure of their location forced his actions. She wore his collar and was defying him in front of everyone. He couldn’t let the brat behavior pass. Not here. Now. When he was the club trainer and her Dom.
“Come here, kitten.” His voice held that deep edge of threat that he’d learned directly from his father. It was the “obey or else tone” that usually worked no matter the age of the recipient. Yet the doubt bloomed within him, along with the fear he was trying to ignore.
What would he do if she ignored him?
It was a long second then two before she turned around. The hard line of her lips was countered by the shine in her eyes. Damn. This wasn’t right. Not like this, with her. But she’d forced his hand. She had to understand that. His stomach clenched and twisted, reminding him of game day when thousands of eyes analyzed his every move.
He waited until she stopped in front of him. He couldn’t think about what he was doing. It was all cause and effect now. He pointed to the ground. Would she kneel? They had no contract now. There was nothing that said she had to listen to him outside of the thin piece of leather that circled her neck. And what did that mean to her?
His focus narrowed to just them. That engrossed concentration happened to him during every Scene, as there was nothing more important than the submissive he was with. This wasn’t a Scene, but right now, Quinn had his full attention. The very real possibility that she could end everything had his heart pounding.
He wouldn’t let that happen. He would save this. Them.
She closed her eyes, her face still before she slowly sunk to her knees. She crossed her wrists behind her back and lowered her head before saying, “Sorry, sir.”
Oh, thank fucking God. He took a deep breath and scrambled for footing. Her pose was flawless and his relief was overridden by another powerful surge of pride. She hadn’t disappointed or embarrassed him further. But was it all part of her act, or did she really mean it?
He forced himself to withhold his response, making her stay in the pose. For the first time ever, the Dom in him struggled with the man. He’d always thought of them as one and the same, until now. People passed around them, and the din of the Dungeon added to the rising tension that continued to build the longer he kept her on her knees.
“She’s a nice one.”
Marcus glanced to Lucas, another employee and Dom, and only nodded. Normally he would have welcomed the praise, even engaged in a conversation with Lucas. However, the other Dom’s comments made him want to snarl and snap to keep him away. His glance must have been more of a glare, because Lucas raised his brows and moved away without further comment.
Through it all, Quinn didn’t move. Her hair had fallen forward to block her face, and Marcus itched to draw it away. Instead, he took a step back until his boots were no longer in her line of vision. Her head lifted before she quickly tucked her chin to correct the action.
He ached to know what was running through her mind. Was she following his command out of obligation or desire? Marcus slowly scanned the room, deliberately meeting the gaze of every Dom who looked his way. Most of the submissives averted their eyes, but it was clear many were watching their exchange.
Jake leaned against the wall on the other side of the room, his arms crossed over his chest in a seemingly casual stance. Marcus realized it wasn’t. There was a hard set to his shoulders and an even harder glare in his eyes.
That did it. He was done with presenting the fucking image that everyone expected. Quinn was more important than what anyone thought of him or his Dom skills. And wasn’t that a revelation?
He ran his fingers through her hair and was rewarded when she tilted her head into his touch. A wave of warmth raced up his arm to tug at his chest. “Rise, kitten.”
She took his offered hand and stood, her gaze still averted. He led her through the employee door and down the hallway without another word. She tried to tug her hand free, but he wasn’t having it.
“Marcus...”
He snapped his head around and gave it a shake in warning. There was no way he was discussing anything until they had some fucking privacy. There were too many prying eyes and ears around down here, and the coming discussion wasn’t for public consumption.
* * *
Quinn followed Marcus out of the Dungeon and down a private hallway. The clicks of her heels on the tile contrasted with the solid thump of his boots. She should’ve put up a fight, but she couldn’t seem to do it. The words were stuck in her throat, right along with the gigantic fireball that was sucking the moisture from it.
She’d disappointed him. The sick feeling that always came with that realization had her taking deep breaths through her nose.
What was she doing?
She’d come to Minneapolis to get away from this exact feeling, yet here she was, falling right back into her default mode of assuming the guilt and following along instead of standing up for herself.
Is that what the collar meant? That Marcus owned her every decision, action and feeling? She hadn’t thought so, but if that was the case, then he was really no different than the rest of the people in her life. She was his possession to manage and control.
But what was he to her? What say did she have on what he did?
Apparently, none.
The understanding burned behind her eyes and left a gaping hole in her heart. She’d been so stupid to fall for him. This was supposed to be a partnership, yet right now it didn’t feel like it.
The sight of him dominating another sub had both awed her and ripped her apart. He’d been completely focused and just as magnificent to watch as the first time she’d seen him. But the surge of pure jealously had almost knocked her legs out from under her. It didn’t matter if the sub was a man or that intercourse hadn’t been involved.
If she was his, then he was hers.
He pushed a door open, and she stared up the narrow stairwell, knowing she would only suffer more if she continued to follow him. Marcus step forward, but she pulled at her hand, refusing to go any farther. As right as he seemed, as good as he felt, this relationship couldn’t continue.
“No,” she finally said. “I can’t do this.”
He turned to her,
and she took a step back. His eyes were dark, his lips drawn in that Dom mode that could so easily sway her. “Quinn?”
She shook her head and tried to take another step away, but he halted her. He wasn’t letting go.
“Talk to me.” He lifted their clasped hands to kiss the back of hers. The tender touch was in exact opposition to the hard exterior of the Dom. “Please.”
Darn it. That wasn’t fair. The light press of his lips seemed to send a flood of warmth down the length of her arm, making her nipples tingle and pucker against her will. Her body responded to his touch, even though she didn’t want it to.
She was so confused. “I was wrong,” she finally forced out. “I should leave.” Her time in Minneapolis was almost up anyway. They hadn’t talked about a future. How could there be one? They had very different lives thousands of miles from each other. This had been an unexpected interlude that had come to an end. She’d been fooling herself thinking it could last.
His hand tightened around hers. “Come upstairs so we can talk.”
“About what?”
“Us, damn it.” His snarl was surrounded in frustration. He ran his free hand through his hair. “What happened out there.” He thrust a finger toward the Dungeon.
Could she do that? It was safer to run right now. Easier too. But then, that was the other thing she was trying to outgrow—taking the easy way out. Part of owning her life was owning her choices—decisions, mistakes and all.
“Okay.”
He loosened his grip, which had become almost painful, but didn’t release her hand. “Thank you.”
The loft was dark and cold when they entered, or maybe it was just her who was cold. He finally released her hand after closing the door then moved to an end table to turn on a lamp.
His leather pants hugged his legs and emphasized his confident stride as he crossed the room. He’d worn a harness again and it hugged his chest in a big X that defined his muscled pecs. Silver studs lined the black leather, giving it a hard edge that matched his Dom demeanor. Like always, he looked impressive, but she couldn’t let that sway her.