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Hard Limit

Page 12

by Meredith Wild


  He straightened slowly, paralyzing me with that knowing look. “My name is Remy. Welcome to La Perle.”

  “I’m…Erica,” I replied with a shaky breath. Fuck, twenty seconds with this man and my facade was crumbling. I wouldn’t last long in this place. I sent up a silent prayer for Blake to speed here, yet somehow I knew he was.

  “Erica.” Remy paused on my name and pursed his lips, as if he were letting the sound of it settle over his tongue like a fine wine. “Lovely. It’s always a pleasure meeting Blake’s friends.”

  He smiled faintly, as if he knew immediately how those words would rattle me. The muscles in my face tensed, but I tried like hell to calm my features. How could I hide my displeasure at the reminder that Blake had friends, and more than one, who ran in these circles?

  Too busy trying to lock down my physical reactions, I barely noticed Remy still held me in his clutches, our connection now prolonged but strangely not awkward.

  “Join us.” He nodded toward a long hallway beyond. By lowering our hands together to his side, he coaxed me a step closer.

  The small moment set me into motion behind him. On shaky legs, I started down the hallway. The old floors creaked below the clicking of my heels, making the journey to this secret place uncomfortably loud. At the end of the hall, a turn brought us to a landing. A thick ornate railing led downstairs where the muffled sounds of the club first hit my ears.

  After another gentle tug, I followed Remy down the stairs, clinging to the railing and, oddly, his hand like a lifeline. I strained to hear what was going on behind the door we approached. Music and the uneven tones of voices. Different voices. Quiet and loud, even some laughter. Then a loud cry that sounded like a woman’s. I tightened my grip.

  He smiled. “Don’t be afraid, cherie. But stay close to me, just in case.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Alarms rang out in my brain, shooting fear down my limbs, making me sweat despite the sparse clothing under my jacket. I longed for the reassurance of safety. While Remy’s seemingly possessive presence didn’t exactly promise innocent protection¸ I wanted to believe it might. If only while I waited for the only man whose arms could take me away from the terrors of the world.

  And I was nothing short of terrified now. My eyes were wide, my heartbeat skipping out of control. Remy turned the old-fashioned knob with a squeak and gave us passage into an enormous oblong room that went on farther than I could see. The place was dim, not completely dark, but before I could bring everything into focus before me, Remy had me walking away from the entrance. We approached an old wooden bar situated against the wall. Afraid to look around, I followed him, a routine that was almost becoming instinct in the few moments I’d known him.

  “Let me take your coat.”

  I hesitated. I quickly sized up the nearly naked people in the room mingling with people in various states of dress. People like me, people in suits, people in street clothes, and many others clad as Tessa had been. Fitting in wasn’t a concern anymore, but I wanted to crawl into the shadows now, not put myself on display.

  Against my better judgment, I shrugged off the coat, which Remy quickly took. With a barely noticeable flick of his hand, he summoned a tall brunette with luminescent blue eyes to where we stood. She took my coat and disappeared just as quickly.

  “Have a seat. Can I get you a drink while you wait?”

  I sat on the smooth wooden stool, pulling down the hem of my dress as I did. I took in every small detail of my surroundings as quickly as I could. The walls were a deep red, made darker by the sparse lighting.

  “Erica.”

  I turned to Remy, my heart stilling at the familiar tone. Blake had that tone memorized when he wanted to get his way.

  “What will you have?”

  A modest but decidedly expensive collection of liquors was displayed along the wall. “Lagavulin,” I said. “On the rocks.”

  He regarded me silently.

  “Please,” I added softly, as if his look compelled me to.

  Remy’s face registered only slight amusement at the last part of my request. He relayed the order to the female bartender. She slid my drink toward Remy, her eyes cast down. He murmured a thank you and pushed it into my hand. His fingers lingered over mine only a second. I resisted the urge to pull my hand away.

  My nerves were tearing me apart. I wasn’t as brave as I thought I was. I lifted the drink to my lips and took the first burning swallow. I breathed in deeply through my nose, the sharp scent of the smoky liquor filling my lungs. I took another sip before setting the glass back down.

  The low, unrecognizable beat of the music was broken with the cry of a woman. I turned in my seat and froze at the visual that lit up before me. On a small but brightly lit platform in the center of the room stood a woman. The strangled cries had come from her. She was bent at the waist, hands gripping her ankles tightly, and clad only in a black corset that covered neither her breasts nor her bottom half. The shiny leather decoration clung to her torso as she jolted under the whip of a long black flogger against her backside.

  Another cry tore from her as the figure of a man unleashed a torrent of lashes. A look of tormented lust pinched her lovely features. She flushed red, from her cheeks all the way to her small breasts that bounced from her body with every new assault.

  I gripped my drink, letting the cut glass of the lowball mark indentations into my cold fingers. Heat flooded my face as I recognized the woman’s sweet agony. Remy’s voice broke the spell the woman’s sexual torture had put me under.

  “You are new here, and I like to know about my patrons. Tell me more about you, lovely Erica.”

  “Not much to tell,” I lied, my voice too light, almost comical in the context of where we were and what we were watching.

  “How long have you been with our Mr. Landon?” His dark eyes glittered as they fixed on me.

  I licked my lips anxiously under his penetrating stare. His eyes lowered, fixing on the motion.

  “Since May.” Since I graduated from college and my whole life changed.

  “So…you are his?”

  The fleeting sweep of his index finger over the well of my throat disturbed me more than I let on. His touch was feather light, but an unspoken challenge lay there. From the moment we’d been introduced, he touched me like he had the right to. The boldness reminded me of the man who did. Every touch seemed like a silent proclamation.

  “I’m his.” I found my voice, determined to leave no doubt as to the truth of those words. I wanted to recoil away from him, but determined to play the part, I sat frozen in place while his gaze swept over me.

  “And he has you here without a collar?”

  My chest tightened with panic. A collar? What the hell had I gotten myself into? My hand went to my throat. I felt suddenly naked without the symbol that would prove I was Blake’s, truly. I looked down, the glimmer of my ring bright in the low light.

  “We’re engaged.” I wasn’t sure if I should have revealed the detail, but it was all I had now.

  “Ah.” Remy smirked, looking away a moment. “The ultimate collar. You must be very special indeed, to be his wife and his slave.”

  When he returned his attention to me, I glared, loathing the way the word flowed off his tongue so easily.

  “I’m no one’s slave.”

  The dark wing of his eyebrow lifted, an unspoken challenge lighting his eyes. “You don’t serve to please him?”

  “Y-Yes, of course I do.”

  What kind of question was that? I wanted to please Blake. In every way. With sex, of course, but in life, I wanted his happiness. I craved it almost as much as my own. But I hated the way Remy painted what we shared. For all the progress I’d made with embracing submission, I bristled at this man’s easy assumption that I was less—a slave, a submissive.

  He hummed softly. “I’m very curious now what brings you here. Tell me, did you come to play? Or to learn?” He looked into the main area, a new activity beginning to take s
hape where the other had ended. The room was lined with small booths, shrouded in darkness. The shadows. I wanted to hide there until Blake came for me, but I feared whatever already lurked there.

  I followed his gaze, spying with shame on the various debaucheries that played out before us. Still, I couldn’t tear away from the scene at the far end of the room. A young man had become the focal point of the evening’s current entertainment. Bound by his wrists and ankles to the brick wall by heavy metal holds, he appeared distressed. Tessa was pacing back and forth in front of him. She came up close. I couldn’t hear their exchange from this distance, and I could barely see what happened next. He grunted, as if someone had punched him in the gut.

  Tessa moved to the side, revealing the man’s now exposed penis jutting forward from his pants. Without warning, she slapped his rigid member, eliciting more painful grunts. His bare abdomen tightened with every unwarranted slap, and then released when she rotated her assaults with gentler strokes. He sucked in a sharp breath with a hissing sound when the weapon of play made contact again.

  Then she was very close to him, her mouth against his ear. I tried to imagine what she was saying to him, scolding him for some imagined wrongdoing no doubt, reminding him of the rewards of his obedience. As if watching a movie, I caught myself empathizing with his struggle, with his experience. Once again, that look of pleasure mingling with evident pain released an unwanted sensation through my body. Watching Tessa tease and taunt him woke unexpected stirrings too.

  “Or perhaps you came to watch.”

  Remy’s words interrupted my blatant gawking at the scene in front of me. Heat suffused my cheeks. He’d caught me being one of those people. His lips lifted with a satisfied smile, as if he were watching a child experience a new wonder for the first time.

  “It’s all right, cherie. People here love to watch. There is no shame in that.”

  Shakily, I brought my drink to my lips and tried to forget what dominance might feel like. Real dominance. Not just being on top. Heat prickled my skin when I remembered the brief moment of power I’d enjoyed the night before and the incredible intensity from Blake I’d inspired. I’d crossed a line, and I still wasn’t sure what to make of what had happened between us then.

  I twisted uncomfortably in my dress, the layered fabric suddenly too hot against me even with all it revealed to Remy and others. We weren’t alone at the bar, and despite the many distractions before me, I could feel his eyes on me every time. His and other men nearby. The number of Doms per capita was high in this building.

  Would I always recognize that kind of man when one crossed my path, because of the way Blake made me feel? Maybe, but something was different with Blake—everything was different.

  I began to panic that he’d misunderstood my earlier text. I’d only told him to meet me at the club. Maybe I should have been more clear, sent an address. Jesus, what if I was stuck here in this godforsaken place at Remy’s mercy? My previous thought of him having a cage reared up in my mind.

  I inhaled a steadying breath and tossed back the rest of my drink. I turned my wrist only to realize I’d left my watch at Alli’s apartment. Time ticked on, and I was no closer to my goal.

  “Are you certain he’s coming?”

  “Yes,” I replied quickly. “Is this your place?” I hoped to distract him from Blake’s absence.

  “Yes, I own La Perle. I have for many years.”

  “Has it always been…like this?” I tried to sound casual, but I was certain Remy wasn’t mistaking my novice curiosity with anything akin to confidence.

  “Always.” He motioned for the bartender and pushed my empty drink toward her. Turning back to me, he asked, “Do you know what it means?”

  “What?”

  “La Perle.”

  “It’s French for ‘pearl’ isn’t it?”

  “Of course, but do you know why?”

  I shook my head and he leaned in as if to tell me a secret. He was still standing, but his body was close, too close. Suddenly tense, I swiveled toward the bar as the bartender placed another drink on the dark wooden surface. Remy’s hand went to the back of the stool. His whisper was hot, an unwelcome sensation against my skin. I tried to mask a shiver.

  “You are wise to be afraid. If I didn’t know Landon, I would show far less restraint with you.”

  I exhaled a panicked breath and stared down at the bar, unwilling to look into the man’s eyes and give anything else away.

  “Because this is not a place for restraint,” he continued in a slightly less predatory tone. “At least not for men like me. Perhaps for you…but only to reveal la perle, the succulent treasure at the center of you, cherie.”

  I frowned. I didn’t know what he meant, and I didn’t want to.

  “The pearl, like your submission, Erica, is an object of great beauty. The most precious pearls are found in the wild…in unexpected places.”

  He tucked the hair that had fallen between us, obscuring my face, behind my ear. His touch fell to my shoulder, trailing down to my elbow with heavy intent.

  “Unearthing them can be, at times, somewhat…violent.” He trailed the tip of his nail down my forearm, with enough pressure to put me on edge but not enough to cause pain.

  I shivered again, straining away from his touch. Squeezing my eyes closed, I forced myself to stay calm. But I was struggling for air, scrambling for any semblance of comfort in this dark place. I needed to get out of here…soon. I needed to get away from this man. Where on God’s earth was Blake?

  Remy seemed to read my thoughts and faced the bar, shifting his focus from my body to the snifter that had been set in front of him.

  “Merde, where is your man?”

  I had no idea, but I now cursed myself for texting him too late. Remy’s patience was waning with mine, and he didn’t seem like a man who deprived himself of many pleasures.

  “Tell me about the other women.” Blake would be here soon. God, I hoped he would be. But in the meantime, I wanted to know as much as this dangerous and magnetic man would share.

  Remy sipped his drink and sighed. “Blake and I are…well, we are not friends per se, but he is a paying member. I would hardly betray his trust. His proclivities are his to tell. I’m sure he will tell you what you truly need to know.” His attention diverted from me, a regretful smile set on his refined features. “Or perhaps he will show you. Here he comes. Finally.”

  I swiveled in my chair, eyes wide, heart flying. Blake was walking toward us in determined strides. His gaze was steady on me, his jaw set tight, as tight as his fists at his sides.

  Remy leaned in, his breath again at my ear. “If you came here to learn, I’d say punishment might be your first lesson tonight.”

  My whole body tensed at Remy’s proximity and the vision of Blake closing in on us. “I’ve learned that lesson already,” I replied weakly.

  Remy laughed. “Have you?”

  Before I could explain myself, Blake caught my hand and pulled me off the stool. I struggled to my feet, holding onto him for balance. He positioned his body in front of mine a fraction. Instinctively, I turned toward him, my chest against his arm. I knew he was angry with me, but I also knew he wanted to protect me. And right now, I felt an overwhelming and very present need to be protected.

  “Landon.” Remy straightened as if to shake Blake’s hand.

  “Stay away from her.”

  Remy lifted his hands in supposed surrender, leaning casually back against the bar. “No need to be protective.”

  “No?” Blake shot back. “Since when does that ever happen around here?”

  “I was simply keeping the vultures at bay. It was very brave of you to let such a beautiful creature out of your sight. She wandered in here like a lost kitten.” He smiled affectionately, his gaze sliding over me as shamelessly as it had before.

  Blake tightened his grip, and I sighed, my entire being relieved to have him near, no matter how angry he was. The way I clung to him now left no doubt that
I was his and only his. I chanced a look into his eyes. He cast me an emotionless look. I weakened against him, apologizing without words.

  “She escaped,” he said in a low tone.

  “Ah. I see.” Remy smiled again. “Seems unlike you to tolerate such disobedience. She’s new to all this, no?”

  I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. Perhaps Remy did keep his women in cages, and between the two of them this all made sense. First I was a slave, and now I was a runaway.

  “She’s none of your concern, Remy.” He turned to me. “Let’s go. Now.”

  “No.” I tightened my grip on his hand and pulled him back.

  His eyes were wild with frustration now, the calm mask gone. “No?”

  “I want to stay.”

  “Let her stay, Landon,” Remy chimed in. “Perhaps she will learn something. You know as well as I do, sometimes they need to learn the lessons the hard way. This kitten has sharp claws. She needs training.”

  Blake shoved a hand through his hair, his gaze passing over the rest of the club. He murmured a string of curses under his breath.

  “There’s a little booth there waiting for you. Have a drink. Enjoy the show. And each other, of course.” Drink in hand, Remy stepped away. Crossing the room, he settled into an unoccupied plush red chair guarded by a petite, half-naked girl kneeling at its base.

  “This is where you want to be?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, searching for the words. The truth. All I wanted was the truth.

  “Do you have any idea how fucking stupid it was for you to come here alone?”

  “I’m fine,” I insisted, though my body was still riddled with anxiety over the past several minutes here without him.

 

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