Daye, Lavender - Bound By Trust (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Lavender Daye

  Hell, she might as well be a fucking virgin.

  “Honey, this is a BDSM club. Bondage. Ever heard of it?” All color fled her face, and the little girl’s chin dropped. Maybe he was being too harsh, but his patience was getting thinner by the minute. While he regretted getting her involved, that decision had come and gone. His goal for the night was getting through the meeting with her in one piece. They would deal with the aftermath together, and then he’d be out of her life.

  Control. Hunter needed to recover his control and quickly. Running rough fingers through his hair, he focused on the young lady in front of him. Cupping her chin and closing her mouth, he leaned into her, his words a whisper from her face.

  “Your friends are going into the public club, where they will drink and dance. You and I are going into the private club.”

  Damn, how was he supposed to prepare her for the private areas of the club? He’d been doing this for a while, living in the lifestyle. There were some areas he still couldn’t condone.

  “Look at me.” Damn it, those eyes were going to haunt him when this was over. “Tonight, you’re going to see and hear things that will shock you. Try not to react. Keep your eyes down and stay right next to me.” He huffed out a breath. “As far as anyone else is concerned, you belong to me and no one else touches you.”

  Another rough breath escaped him. “I’m sorry I brought you into this. I assumed by your clothes that you knew what you’d be getting into, wanted to be a part of it. I was wrong. I need you to be strong tonight. Can you be strong for me?”

  “Yes.” She fumbled with the choker and he took it out of her hand. With a snap, the collar was in place around her pale throat.

  “What’s your name, pretty girl?”

  * * * *

  Oh. My. God.

  “Kerri,” she replied, wondering what she’d done to deserve this sudden roller coaster ride. The gorgeous man she’d been eyeing at work was suddenly giving her orders. And what orders they were. He was taking her into a private bondage club and claiming he owned her. Either he’d lost his mind or she had. At least Jase had his driver’s license in case something happened and she didn’t make it home by morning. Fat lot of good that license would do if Jase had to take it to the police. Kerri might never know if that was even his real name.

  “Kerri, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Hunter Merritt. But you should call me Sir.”

  “Okay.” Did he really just tell her to call him Sir? She might as well have stepped into the Twilight Zone.

  He frowned. Raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good. Remember it.” His fingers wrapped around her upper arm again and he led her toward the private entrance. “You’ll be introduced as my new sub, still in training, so you won’t be asked to participate by anyone but me. Stick to the part. You’ll be fine.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She kept her eyes on him, waiting for an explanation that didn’t come. “Umm, what’s a sub?”

  The grip on her arm tightened. “Submissive. Think slave—sex slave.”

  Mr. Merritt turned his attention to the reception desk, speaking to a well-dressed man while passing what looked like a credit card over a sensor pad. Very high tech for a club, it wasn’t something she expected to see outside of a government office or medical lab.

  Kerri fought to keep her knees locked. She was pretending to be his sex slave for the night. Her brain went into overload imagining how the pretending would be accomplished. The hand on her arm eased, slid down softly, then back up. The motion repeated, and a whisper in her ear comforted. “It’ll be fine. Trust me.”

  Kerri forced herself to relax, took a deep breath, and nodded. His hand moved from her arm to her nape, his fingers warm and compelling as he guided her to another set of doors. Unlike the sleek metallic main entrance, these were darkly stained wood with burnished silver hardware. Mr. Merritt placed his hand against the door as he continued to instruct her.

  “If I’m standing, you’re next to me. If I’m sitting, you’re on the floor at my feet or on my lap.”

  Kerri gaped at him. “On your lap?” Just when she thought she’d heard the worst, another directive sent her reeling. This was rapidly turning into the night from hell. Or maybe the biggest adventure she’d ever have. The jury was still out and likely to be way out for awhile.

  “Don’t be surprised to feel my hands on you.”

  That was the last thing Kerri heard from him as they walked through the door and into the private club. The sounds from the room around her drowned out anything else he might say.

  Like the doors into the room, the spacious area before her was decorated with dark woods and subtle lighting. Burgundy carpet covered most of the floor, obviously ruling out dancing. A bar was visible at one end of the room, a few barstools near it, but most of the people were gathering in groups around small tables or strange arrangements of weird furniture. Kerri flinched as she watched one very bare woman being placed on a piece of the furniture. Turning her head, she searched for another place to look.

  Music filled the space, not glaring or blaring as she expected but subdued and mildly erotic. A definite rhythm that lent itself to the ritual of mating pulsed through the air as if compelling the occupants to move. There were few dark corners in the expansive room, but the lights were far from bright. Every act could be witnessed by anyone choosing to do so.

  Mr. Merritt’s hand moved from her arm to her nape, a quick squeeze of skin on skin followed by firm pressure as he led her across the floor. Kerri tried to remain focused on the role she was playing, but she was surrounded by activities that surprised and shocked her. Aroused her, too, if she was honest with herself.

  Her escort stopped to speak with a woman wearing an extremely short leather skirt and over-the-thigh boots. While they talked, the woman extended her hand to the man at her feet. As Kerri watched, eyes riveted, he rose to his knees and began to lick her palm. He wore a collar not unlike hers, but with blunt spikes that reminded her of something a large dog might wear. Fascinated, her downcast eyes followed the woman’s hand as it moved to her thigh. Without pausing, the man transferred his attention to the inside of her thigh, licking his way to the edge of her skirt and beyond. Kerri took in the woman’s caress of his head, and a subtle shiver slid down her spine. Would she be expected to do something similar to Mr. Merritt?

  The pressure of his hand on her nape increased, drawing her attention to his conversation. They were discussing the location of another member of the club, McKeon. This must be the man Mr. Merritt needed to meet.

  “And who is this new toy you’ve brought us tonight?” Amusement laced the woman’s tone, along with a subtle sensuality that Kerri could only assume came from her date’s actions. “Such an innocent, Hunter. Different for you. Wherever did you find her?”

  Merritt squeezed her nape just enough to remind her to keep her eyes averted. “My new sub. I’ve just begun her training.”

  “Surely you didn’t buy her?” the woman asked, sliding her hand over Kerri’s shoulder to cup her chin. Kerri kept her eyes downcast, resisting the urge to flinch away from the touch of this stranger. “I’ve heard rumors about auctions,” she continued, her voice subdued.

  “As have I, but that’s not my style and you know it. A sub comes willingly or not at all,” Hunter replied, his free hand gently removing the woman’s fingers from Kerri’s skin. “She’s raw, but will learn quickly under my hand.”

  A throaty laugh was followed by an offer to assist. “My boy here loves to fuck. He’s quite randy. Let me know if you’d like to watch him take her.”

  “I’ll consider it and get back to you. At the moment, I have business to discuss with McKeon.”

  Kerri tried to keep her expression blank while they moved further into the room, contemplating the auction the woman mentioned and wondering what exactly went on in this type of establishment. The unknown voyeur within her awakened, tempting her to stop and watch the vignettes playing out around her. B
ut the firm pressure of his hand kept her moving.

  “Trust me, pretty girl. I’ll take care of you,” he whispered in her ear, his hand holding her close to the warmth of his body.

  Twice they were stopped by conversations with other patrons. Kerri listened to Merritt—how should she think of him? As her boss, he was Mr. Merritt, but in this place he insisted she refer to him as Sir. She couldn’t muster the ability to even think of him on a first name basis, though she’d fantasized about him on more than one occasion. Confusion chased the other feelings around in her head.

  Another squeeze on her nape focused her attention as they turned into a long hallway. Merritt stopped at a closed door about halfway down. He knocked twice, and when the door opened, Merritt dropped his hand to her wrist, jerking her behind him as he entered.

  Kerri kept her eyelids half lowered and took a quick survey through the room, at least as much as she could see around his broad shoulders, then snapped her eyes shut while processing what she’d seen. His fingers pressed into her skin reassuringly, but it wasn’t enough to quell the heat racing through her body as he led her further inside.

  A half-naked man, muscled shoulders glistening with sweat, was talking to Mr. Merritt. Kerri couldn’t focus on the words. Her ears roared, and her eyes burned while she snuck glances at the woman behind the naked man. She was bare, exposed to everyone in the room, not just the man Merritt was talking to, but two other men sitting at a square wooden table in the corner. The woman’s arms were tied to a beam above her head, her feet splayed wide, ankles shackled to rings on the floor. Kerri couldn’t see her face, but she could feel her own chest thumping to the same beat of the woman’s breath as it sawed in and out, and her shoulders rose and dipped.

  “Where’s your other sub?” the bare-chested man asked. He must be the business associate Merritt planned to meet.

  “She opted out.” Kerri blinked at the difference in his voice. Hard. Ugly. Scary. What had she gotten into?

  “Couldn’t handle the fun stuff, huh?” A harsh laughed was followed by a whistling sound, the crack of leather meeting skin, and a moan. Kerri cut her eyes to the left and watched in horror as the man flipped his wrist and the whip he wielded curved through the air to snap against the bound woman’s back again. And she hadn’t screamed. She’d moaned.

  “Her loss, this little girl’s gain.” Merritt moved deeper into the area behind the man with the whip and sat in one of the deep burgundy upholstered chairs, tugging her hand until she dropped to her knees in front of him. His hand skimmed across her hair, petting her, pulling her head into his lap. Kerri rested her head on his thigh, her eyes on his crotch, and let him stroke her. Jase and Sara would listen to this tale with shocked amazement, but she could never tell Zoe. On second thought, she most likely couldn’t tell anyone. She wouldn’t be able to voice the words for what she was experiencing tonight.

  The angle of the chair gave Mr. Merritt a clear view of the room’s activities. From her position, Kerri could see part of the action when she opened her eyes. The whistle and slap of the whip caused her body to jerk against his leg every time she heard it, and she knew he was feeling her response. She wasn’t sure if she was disgusted or enthralled. Her lids lifted of their own accord for a moment or two, watching the play of the whip across the woman’s back as she writhed and moaned.

  It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. Her love life wasn’t exactly wild and crazy, but she wasn’t innocent either. The thought of voyeurism never crossed her mind, but the reaction of her body to the activity in this room was disturbing. She wanted to look away but couldn’t close her eyes. The woman wasn’t crying out in pain but appeared to move into the motion of the whip as if wanting its touch.

  Then the man stepped back and opened his pants, pulling his— Oh. Kerri slammed her eyes shut, then opened them again to see his fingers sliding over his erection as he stepped back to the woman he’d been whipping.

  A squeeze of fingers on her nape had her raising her eyes to Mr. Merritt. One brow was raised, questioning, before he tugged her up and into his lap. He pressed her face into the curve of his shoulder, her mouth against the smooth skin just under his ear. Kerri inhaled deeply, trying to center her rioting emotions only to realize the scent of his soap mingled with the musky smell of the room. It was a heady mix, affecting her more than the scene she’d witnessed.

  One hot, rough palm cupped her left knee, slid toward the hem of her skirt, up her thigh, massaging as it moved, cuddling her closer to his body. He was protecting her, she realized as the sounds in the room amplified. He was distracting her, keeping her from seeing, feeling, the acts taking place a few feet from them. It was unexpected.

  As unexpected as the sensations he was evoking with his hand at the top of her thigh, his thumb almost but not quite at the juncture of her legs. He could so easily be touching her intimately in this insane room, but he wasn’t. And her body was betraying her with the need for that particular touch.

  He didn’t know her. They were complete strangers. Well, for the most part, strangers, considering where his hand was at the moment. But he knew she was young and this was a strange new world for her. Kerri wasn’t sure if she appreciated that sentiment or not. She was benefiting from his protection, sure, but did she look like she needed it?

  There were too many conflicting thoughts racing through her brain at the moment, and unfortunately, the one thought that kept floating to the top was curiosity about the acts taking place in the room. In a previously unconceivable reality, the sounds—moans, groans, and the noise of flesh meeting flesh heated her body in a way she’d never thought possible. Kerri had the unmistakable desire to watch, and it was disconcerting. She wasn’t supposed to be interested in this sort of public sexual activity or whatever it was called. Perversion? Consensual sex-play? Just one more thing her brain couldn’t process at the moment.

  Her body hummed of its own accord and she hoped like hell that Mr. Merritt couldn’t feel it. As it was, the temptation to lick the skin just a breath away from her mouth was beginning to worry her. She’d been checking him out at work since she started her internship a month ago, engaging in a little fantasy of meeting him, getting to know him. Tonight was already so far past that fantasy.

  The noise behind her stopped with a shout, muffled groans, and a heavy sigh. The conversation between Merritt and the other man continued, the words incomprehensible to her in large part due to the hand that had begun to caress her leg with more purpose. It slipped an inch or so away from her panty with a teasing squeeze, and her respirations increased to the speed of his thumb as it smoothed over her inner thigh, up and down in a rhythm that was ruining her concentration. Kerri lifted her head, only to have it pushed back to his shoulder.

  “Be still, little girl. Move only when you’re told to move.” Merritt’s voice rasped over her in command, but the fingers under her skirt pressed a gentle warning.

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered just loud enough to carry to the man standing over her in front of Merritt.

  “She needs training, but she’s a pretty little thing. Interested in sharing her? Bet she’ll take well to the whip.”

  Kerri’s breath froze until she heard Merritt’s brittle reply. “I don’t share. She’ll be mine and only mine until I’m done with her. After that, who knows?”

  Another gentle cuddle of her thigh eased her mind. The men’s conversation continued, but she didn’t try to follow it.

  Merritt’s hand on her nape was the only reality Kerri knew as he moved her through the club. Sensory overload blessedly drowned out her surroundings so that all she could process was downcast eyes and moving feet. If they could just get to the parking lot, she might survive the night.

  Finally, fresh air flushed her face, allowing her to take a deep breath. Stars blinked above her, and her self-control slipped. Tremors raged through her body as the attendant exited Merritt’s car. She felt his arms around her as he put her into the passenger seat and pulled out of
the lot.

  Kerri glanced at the dashboard clock and a groan slipped out. One thirty. They’d been in the club for hours, but the haze of her experience left her without a time reference. Her fingers began to tremble as flashes of what she’d seen bombarded her, and the tremors worked their way up her arms.

  The fine-tuned vibrations of the car’s engine added to the pace of her anxiety, and Kerri wrapped her arms around her chest. They flew down the boulevard for a few blocks, swerved into a covered garage, and the car came to an abrupt stop.

  Hard hands wrapped around her shoulders and hauled her across the console until Kerri found herself on his lap. He held her close while her entire body shook.

  “It’s okay. Relax,” he said, his voice a dark wave through her senses. “It’s over, pretty girl. You did great.”

  Strong arms encircled her, pressing tight, warmth beginning to seep into her body as his soothing tone eased her. Kerri didn’t realize she’d been crying until his thumb brushed across her wet cheek.

  “I’m sorry.” Kerri tried to ease off his lap, but his arms kept her close. How could she be embarrassed by tears after all she’d witnessed tonight?

  “No, don’t be sorry. I’m the one who should apologize. I never should have pulled you into this.”

  A quick acceptance of his apology was on the tip of her tongue, but Kerri stopped before the words left her mouth. The situation had unnerved her with its intensity, yet it had equally excited her. Every nerve in her body was on high alert, needing something she wasn’t sure of, but needy just the same. She kept her mouth shut, afraid of the words that might tumble out while her body came down from the ledge where she teetered. Instead, she inhaled deeply and pushed her body to relax in his arms.

  “That’s it, Kerri, just ease back a little. Adrenaline overload can be a killer.” He soothed her with his deep tone and the warmth of his palm skimming down her arm. The heat and slight friction drew a ragged sigh from her. She eased into his chest and enjoyed the hard contours of his body against her side.