But afterward he"d held her, pressing her head against his strong shoulder, murmuring comfort in that rich drawl. Had anyone ever cared for her so sweetly?
Or aroused her so thoroughly? She"d sure never come so hard. Ever. The memories had given her lushly erotic dreams every single damned night, and she"d wake up hurting from needing to come.
But she hadn"t gotten herself off. Gold star for me. He"d told her not to come without permission, and she wanted to please him, even though her entire purpose in the Shadowlands was to defy him. Yes, the sneaky, perfect dom had snuck under her defenses. She set her jaw. Too bad for her…and him.
Straightening her shoulders, she walked a little faster. Next Friday and Saturday, Master Marcus could deal with her defiance, and she could deal with his response…somehow. That"s just the way it had to be.
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Chapter Seven
Carrying a tray full of drinks, Gabi paused as the members watching a noisy ménage session blocked her path. She shook her head. The whole place was filled.
How wonderful. More people to laugh at her getting in trouble.
She had a feeling tonight wouldn"t be nearly as pleasant as last night.
On Friday, she"d pushed herself to extreme brattiness, but aside from one swarthy dom and the bartender, who"d both punished her, no one seemed to care.
Marcus had arrived late, then done a scene with that blonde, so he hadn"t had a chance to give her hell.
Marcus is here tonight. The knowledge sent excitement skittering along her nerves.
When the submissive in the ménage scene groaned, one of her doms laughed.
Curious, Gabi edged her way forward. Unfortunately she got too close to the dom in black leathers who"d called her insolent, the one named Master Dan.
He frowned at her and jerked his head, a silent get back to work. He sure wasn"t very nice. Why did some of the doms act like they owned her and others didn"t?
When he turned his back, she stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes.
Laughter rippled around her, and the pregnant sub tucked under his arm giggled.
Grinning, Gabi returned to the bar. That had felt good.
As she walked out of the crowd, she glanced over her shoulder and noticed the golden armband circling Master Dan"s bicep. Interesting. Sam and Cullen both wore those gold bands. So did Master Marcus. Once safely out of Dan"s sight, she stopped to scan the room. Apparently only a few doms wore armbands: the swarthy, muscular dom she"d met—to her misfortune—a domme with a male sub, another domme with a female sub.
When the brunette trainee walked past, Gabi stopped her. “I know dungeon monitors wear gold-trimmed vests, but what"s with the armbands?” She nodded at the two dommes. “Do those gold bands mean anything?”
“Oooh, girlfriend, did we forget to warn you about them?” Sally rolled her eyes and grinned. “Those identify the Shadowlands Masters.”
“And that"s different from a dom how?”
Sally rested her tray on her hip and thought for a second. “Okay, you know how some doms are just a little dominating like maybe a one-scoop ice cream, and others have a lot more—maybe two scoops of domination?”
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Gabi nodded.
“Well, with the Masters, think supersized hot fudge sundae.” Sally giggled.
“And that"s only the domination part. Add in beaucoup experience and control and all that. They"re voted Master status by the members, and it"s sure not a popularity contest.”
“Oh. Got it.”
“Masters are the best to play with, but…” Sally wrinkled her nose. “Although the regular doms can boss us a little, they have to ask Marcus for permission to do anything else. But the Masters are supposed to help with the trainees, so they can pull you into a scene or use you for a demonstration. And if you"re bratty and Marcus isn"t around, they"ll punish you themselves.”
“Now you tell me.” Gabi scowled. “That Hispanic one with all the muscles?
Last night, he came down on me like a load of bricks—put me in the stocks and allowed anybody who thought I"d insulted them to whack me with a paddle.”
“Ouch. I wondered how you ended up there. Master Raoul"s usually more forgiving than Marcus. You must have been even naughtier than me.” Laughing, Sally tsk-tsked at Gabi before responding to a dom"s wave for service.
Gabi slowly headed for the bar. So that"s why the regular doms hadn"t done anything about her behavior. Looks like she"d need to concentrate on upsetting the Masters. Oh doesn’t that just sound like fun?
As she neared the bar, she spotted Master Marcus. God, he was gorgeous…and dangerous. Despite his deceptively lazy stance, power seemed to radiate from him, and when his sharp blue gaze landed on Gabi, electricity sizzled like a cut power cord, throwing sparks everywhere.
Next to Marcus stood a rough-looking man in a black, sleeveless T-shirt and a gold band on his arm. Scars on the man"s face and hands created white lines over his dark red-brown skin. As his unwavering, black eyes watched her approach, Gabi seriously considered detouring around both him and Marcus. But as she hesitated, she spotted Agent Rhodes at the end of the bar, reminding her of the stakes involved.
Okay, Kim—this is for you, honey. Jaw tensed, she headed straight for Marcus and the other guy. She forced a cocky grin and greeted Marcus. “Hey, hot stuff.”
His smile died. “Gabrielle, you don"t want to do this.”
Ignoring the way his voice made her insides tap-dance, she turned to his tough friend. “Hey, buddy, how"s it hanging?”
Marcus"s lips pressed into a straight line.
A flash of amusement flickered in his friend"s eyes before disappearing into darkness. “Your new trainee, Marcus?”
“I"m afraid so. Gabrielle, this is Master Nolan.” Marcus tilted his head at her quizzically. “How long did it take before you could sit comfortably after last Saturday?”
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Two whole days. She took an involuntary step back, then made herself walk around them to set her tray down. Leaning an elbow on the bar top, she said breezily, “Oh, not that long.”
Master Marcus"s intent gaze moved over her face, her body, lingering on her hands.
She felt her hand rubbing the scar on her cheek. Oops. After tucking her hair behind an ear, she plastered on a nonchalant grin.
Marcus saw his puzzlement duplicated in Nolan"s eyes. Gabrielle wasn"t as confident as she tried to sound. His mention of spanking had tensed every muscle in that pretty little body and paled her face. Now her fingers traced the long scar on her cheek, which he"d learned meant she"d jumped past anxiety into fear.
Why did she keep pushing to get punished?
Some submissives craved pain, but she wasn"t one of them. Some wanted attention, and he still wasn"t convinced she didn"t…but she seemed genuinely mortified by spectators. Some subs" only method of relating to people was to behave like brats, but Gabrielle was a naturally friendly person. She had an infectious laugh, chatted easily, and charmed everyone. In fact, almost every single dom in the place had requested to do a scene with her.
He found most of her sassy behavior downright cute. Except for the times like now when she deliberately antagonized a dom.
As Marcus studied her, she swallowed and shifted her weight, her eyes darting away. Definitely scared.
Dammit. Spanking her hadn"t worked, and he doubted he could stomach hitting her harder. But his responsibility as a trainer demanded he teach her the consequences of insolence.
“Hot stuff,” she"d called him? “Master Nolan, could I request that you please keep her here for me?”
“You got it.” Nolan curled his hand around her upper arm, not even appearing to notice her instinctive attempt to retreat.
“Let me go!” She slapped at him. “You"re not my boss.”
Her loud protests continued as Marcus ret
rieved his toy bag from behind the bar, and amusement mingled with his concern. He"d spent a lot of time thinking about her, wondering what to do with her…and trying to remember he was her trainer and nothing more. Damned if he wanted to be attracted to the little nuisance.
After planning out some possible scenes for her, he"d added a few extras to the bag. Odd how apropos one happened to be.
When he returned, she was still struggling and cursing Nolan. “You dumb-ass ape, get your hand off me. What—are you the first in your family to be born without a tail?”
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The dom stared at her as if he couldn"t believe the show, and Marcus almost grinned. When he"d discussed Gabrielle in the Master"s meeting before the club opened, Nolan hadn"t believed she could prove much trouble. Well, now he knew.
After setting his toy bag on the bar, Marcus gripped her hair. “Be silent.”
For about thirty seconds, her natural submissiveness shut her up as if he"d corked her mouth. Then she started again. “Listen, I don"t like manhandling, and this—”
Marcus took her wrists, pulled them behind her back, and clipped the cuffs together. When she opened her mouth for another yell, he shoved a leather gag between her teeth. He tied it firmly, smiling at the muffled shriek.
Then her inability to talk or move registered. Her body stiffened, and her eyes dilated with fear.
Before she panicked, he put his hand under her chin to force her to meet his gaze. “Gabrielle.” He held a pink squeaky toy and shook it so the bells inside rattled. A squeeze made it squeak. “Anytime I gag you, you will hold this. The toy is the substitute for your safe word, sugar. If you drop it or make it squeak, everything stops.”
Her brown eyes were huge, and she trembled like a terrified mouse. Why did she do this to herself? He slid his hand up to cup her face, and the unconscious way she rubbed her cheek on his palm told him she trusted him—would willingly submit. Only she didn"t.
With a sigh, he stayed on the path he"d set out. He put the toy in her hand. “Do you understand, sugar? Use it if something is too much for you. Make it squeak now so I know you can.”
As she made the toy sound several times, her breathing slowed.
“All right then.” He stripped off her stretchy, bright yellow hot pants with regret—she"d looked damn fine in them—lingering for a second over the soft, bare skin of her ass. Seductive, mouthy little sub. Then he gripped her waist and laid her, stomach down, on the bar, with her legs dangling off the edge.
Her teeth clamped on the gag, and she pulled uselessly at her cuffs, then tried to squirm off the bar. Seductive, mouthy, stubborn little sub. Marcus glanced at Nolan. “If you would please?”
Nolan nodded and leaned on her legs, pinning her against the bar and preventing her from kicking in the process. After gripping her cuffs, the dom had her well immobilized, although she continued to struggle like a fish tossed on dry land.
Marcus glanced at Cullen, who drew a beer as he observed the show. “Loan me a knife, please.” Before Gabrielle could react with more than widened eyes, he patted her bottom. “I"m not going to cut on you, darlin".”
She stared at him for a second, then gave up and lay limp under Nolan"s grip.
Apparently the mention of a knife had scared the sass right out of her.
Cullen set the drink on the bar and tossed a knife at Marcus.
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Marcus caught it out of the air. He took a piece of knobby, palm-sized ginger from his toy bag and cut off one of the fingerlike parts. “This is ginger, Gabrielle, like what is used in Asian cooking.” He shaved off the brown coating and carved the long piece into the shape of an anal plug with a thick thumb-sized part, a narrower section, and a wide end to keep the plug in place.
When he held it up, Gabrielle inhaled sharply, obviously recognizing the shape.
Marcus smiled into her eyes. “The fun we"ll have tonight is called figging.”
When Nolan chuckled, she stiffened as if she"d forgotten his presence.
“I can"t use regular lubricant or it"ll block the effect. Can you lube her with her own juices?” Marcus asked, glancing at his hands. “If I get the oils near her pussy, she"s going to screech like a steam engine.”
Nolan snorted. “No shit. Guess I can help out this once, hot stuff.” The dom pushed her legs apart and slid his fingers over her pussy. He chuckled. “She"s nicely wet, Marcus.” Ignoring her muffled yells, Nolan lubed up her asshole.
Cheeks pink with outrage, Gabrielle glared as Marcus picked up the ginger.
He nodded at Nolan. “Best you try to relax yourself, Gabrielle.”
As Nolan held her buttocks apart, Marcus slowly pushed the knob into her ass.
Her tight ring of muscle fought against the intrusion—just as it would offer up a token protest against a cock before closing like a vise around the base. He hardened at the thought.
The ginger slipped into place, and she moaned.
“There you go, sugar. Now you"ll learn what hot stuff really means. I do want you to know ginger doesn"t cause any harm at all…no matter what it feels like.”
Leaning an arm on the bar, he kissed Gabrielle"s cheek and her forehead.
“Such a pretty face to glare so much. Wouldn"t you rather be polite and not have to be unhappy all the time?”
His blue gaze was soft, his resonant voice almost a croon, and Gabi had to close her eyes to keep him from seeing just how devastating his question was. I would. I hate when you’re mad at me.
“Ah, darlin",” he said gently, “we"ll get there. It"ll happen.”
She kept her eyes closed until she heard him move away. He"d gone behind the bar to wash his hands, leaving the heartless dom still leaning against her legs. She could hear the laughter and conversations about her, and her cheeks flushed. She"d done well in attracting attention, hadn"t she?
When Marcus came back, Nolan stepped away and asked in his gravelly voice,
“If you don"t need any more help, I"m going to round up my sub.”
“I appreciate your assistance,” Marcus said.
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“My pleasure.” Nolan gave Gabi"s bottom a light, stinging slap, and she gritted her teeth on the gag to keep from yelping. “Would you like her caned tonight? I"m getting out of practice.”
Gabi tensed. Say no, say no.
“Hmm.” Marcus grazed his fingers over the stinging area. “If she doesn"t learn some manners soon, I believe she might benefit from your expertise.”
As Nolan headed away, Marcus gripped Gabi around the waist. With an easy swing, he set her on her feet. As the thing in her butt shifted, she shivered and wiggled, trying to get more comfortable.
“I hoped you"d leave her up there,” the bartender said, leaning on one hefty arm and looking at her appreciatively. “I haven"t had a pretty bar ornament in a while.”
“Not this time.” Marcus ran his warm hands up and down her arms. His eyes held laughter as he smiled at her. “I don"t think she"s going to be holding still without some help.”
Cullen frowned. “What did you want the knife for anyway?”
“Ginger root. She called me „hot stuff."”
The giant dom stared at Marcus for a second, then roared with laughter.
What’s so funny?
Marcus removed her cuffs and her yellow vinyl top, and finally her gag.
Thank you, God. She rubbed her cheeks and swallowed, trying to eradicate the taste of the gag. A gag, anal plug, bar top. Oh man. She"d expected a spanking, maybe even a whipping. Not this kind of thing. As Marcus put the restraints into his bag, she realized everyone still watched her, probably hoping for another show.
Damn them anyway.
She scowled at Marcus and Cullen. It didn"t take any effort to want to annoy them. A bar ornament, my ass. “So am I supposed to wait tables with this thing up my butt?”
Elbow on the b
ar, Cullen propped his chin in his hand and watched her as if she were an amusing bug.
“No, Gabrielle,” Marcus said in a level voice. “You are going to sit with me and practice self-control. Don"t make me regret removing your gag.”
“You bet, hot stuff.” She pursed her lips in a kiss, hearing the people around the bar laugh.
His expression didn"t change. As he studied her with those blue, blue eyes, she felt herself flush and something quiver inside her, a mingling of shame and desire.
Unable to meet his eyes anymore, she dropped her gaze.
“C"mere, sugar,” he said softly. He sat down, back to the bar, and lifted her onto his lap.
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When her weight landed on the thing in her butt, she winced, and her temper shifted as well—with good reason. After all, some asshole had shoved something in her asshole.
His calloused fingers curled around hers, and he positioned her hands palm down on her bare thighs. “I want your hands to stay just like that.”
“Fine,” she muttered, then growled as he forced her knees apart and draped her legs on the outside of his, spreading her open. No. I am not going to sit here with my pussy wide open for everyone walking past to stare at. This is too much. Without saying a word, she tried to slide off his lap.
He chuckled. “I don"t think so.” He cupped one hand over her left breast, and his other over her mound, holding her in place.
She stilled, her heart rate increasing at the thrill of his strong hands on her most vulnerable areas. His palm, hard and calloused, pressed against her bare labia. She quivered in his grasp as he fondled her breasts, rolling her nipples until need clawed through her.
“Nicely quiet. I like that, Gabrielle,” he murmured into her ear, his breath warm against her cheek. “Say, „Thank you, Sir, for providing me with a seat."”
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