On His Knees (Blasphemy)

by Laura Kaye

  Master Alex nodded. “Shibari rope bondage. Master Griffin is an expert at it.”

  Jamie watched as the new Dom created intricate knots and beautiful webs with the rope, as if the way it looked was as important as the way it restrained. “It’s striking.” He did a double take upon realizing that Master Alex was watching him watch the demonstration, his gaze narrowed and intense. Jamie dropped his own gaze. “I’m sorry, Sir. Did I say something wrong?”

  Stepping closer, Master Alex nudged Jamie’s chin, forcing him to look up. “Let me assure you that you’d have no question about that if it were the case. It is a Dom’s prerogative to look at you. And I was enjoying looking.”

  A blast of heat rolled over Jamie, and he swallowed hard. What was it about this man that affected him so? Objectively, Masters Kyler and Quinton were attractive men, as was the big Dom on the stage, but Jamie hadn’t lusted over any of them. Meanwhile, a single cutting look, or a sternly quiet sentence, when issued by Master Alex, nearly had the power to drive Jamie to his knees.

  A thought that reminded him how hot it’d been to kneel at this Dom’s feet. Why it was so sexy, Jamie wasn’t sure, but he’d loved something about the way Master Alex had loomed over him, commanded him, made him feel safe and vulnerable at the same exact time.

  “Yes, Sir,” Jamie managed, not sure what else to say in response. And more than a little intrigued that Alex apparently enjoyed what he saw when he looked at him. He lifted his gaze to the stage again, and curiosity unleashed a question that Jamie hadn’t intended to ask. “Do you ever do demonstrations, Master Alex?”

  The Dom slanted him a glance. “I do.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of Jamie’s mouth, because everything seemed to be a competition of wills with Alex, and somehow that managed to be funny and frustrating and infuriating and sexy all at the same time. “On anything in particular?”

  Master Alex leaned in again and put his mouth to Jamie’s ear. “Oh, my tastes are quite particular, boy.”

  There was that boy again. The warmth of the man’s breath ghosted over Jamie’s skin, unleashing a shiver in its wake. Licking his lips, Jamie peered at the other man, wondering just how hard he could push before he crossed a line. “Are they, Sir?”

  One eyebrow arched in a tiny gesture that communicated so much. Caution. Challenge. Maybe even a little agitation. It should’ve made Jamie back off, but instead it kinda made Jamie want to know what would happen if he crossed one of Master Alex’s lines.

  Actually, Jamie wanted to know that bad.

  But Master Alex withdrew, just a little, not taking the bait. And leaving Jamie feeling more than a little bereft. “Let’s move on,” he said, gesturing for Jamie to join him as they moved behind the crowd of onlookers toward a hallway that extended off the side of the space. The Dom stopped just short of entering it. “Typically, you wouldn’t venture down here without invitation or chaperone, but for your information, this is where most of the private and themed play rooms are located.”

  Jamie peered down the wide stone hallway, and could only make out dark, heavy-looking doors spaced at regular intervals. He couldn’t help but wonder what lay behind them. And whether he’d ever find out. More than that, whether he was ready to find out.

  Master Alex made quick work of the remainder of the tour, pointing out bathrooms and seating areas, and introducing him to a few submissives, namely two ladies named Mia and Cass, who apparently belonged to Master Kyler and Master Quinton.

  But Jamie got the distinct impression that Master Alex was suddenly rushing to finish the tour. Gone was the lingering and teasing and feeling that they were locked in some sort of battle of wills, and in its place was a purely professional Alex who seemed eager to finish his task and move on.

  It was an impression that was confirmed when Master Alex led them back to the circular bar and asked, “Any last questions, Jamie?”

  Jamie frowned, feeling something slipping away. Something maybe he never really had at all. But at the very least, there’d been some possibility. Some possibility of learning even more from Master Alex. He blinked and finally asked, “I don’t think so. But what now, Sir?”

  “Now, you decide if you want to play,” Master Alex said. “And wait for a Dom to invite you to do so.”

  Alex stood at the one-way windows that comprised a whole wall of the Masters’ lounge and looked out at the activity of the club below. He’d left Jamie at the bar fifteen minutes before and was glad to be free of the task of introducing him to Blasphemy.

  Glad to be free of the fucking temptation.

  Because Alex had been tempted. By the sub’s curiosity, by his arousal, by his eager interest in everything. By the way Jamie seemed to flirt with pushing Alex—he would’ve sworn that was true. Either way, excitement had radiated off of the younger man, and Alex had to admit it was a heady, seductive thing to be reminded of the way all of this had once felt. Back at the beginning, when it was fresh and new and set his mind and his body on fire.

  But at the same time, it was Jamie’s newness that gave Alex pause. Because Jamie’s ignorance and naiveté, not to mention the journey of sexual self-discovery the guy was clearly taking, all meant that not even Jamie was yet sure who or what he was, what he wanted, what he needed.

  Which threw up red flags for Alex. Who wanted someone who’d accepted his own masochism and Alex’s sadism. Who wanted the chance at a long-term relationship. Who wanted, at forty, to finally settle down.

  He braced a hand against the glass, his gaze scanning over the people down below. Fine. One person in particular.

  Alex hadn’t retreated to the Masters’ lounge for this purpose, but one glance out the window made him realize that the bird’s eye view of the club floor gave him the perfect means of keeping an eye on Blasphemy’s newest player. Not that he really wanted to be doing that. Problem was, Jamie Fielding was like the bright, warm flame to Alex’s cold, lonely heart. And it was fucking hard to look away from the light.

  Damnit it all to hell, but when had Alex become so jaded with his life? And how the hell had he not realized just how troubled his state of mind really was?

  Down below, Jamie made a loop of the club floor, retracing the steps they’d taken together. He stopped at the backs of already gathered crowds to take in Dominants engaged in various acts with their submissives, and hell if Alex couldn’t tell exactly what intrigued Jamie by how long he’d stay or how quickly he’d move on.

  The things he lingered at the longest? The first, a punishment scene involving basic bare-handed spanking over a Dom’s lap. And the second featured Master Wolf tormenting his exhibitionist Olivia with a multiple forced orgasm scene that seemed to both please and humiliate her, judging by how visibly red her face was, something Alex could make out from all the way up here.

  Of all the kink playing out on the floor, his newbie was drawn to the pain and to the humiliation. He fisted his right hand, fighting against the sudden hard desire to feel his palm heat from the repeated impacts against a certain man’s ass.

  Against Alex’s will, his cock hardened.

  Which was the moment Alex also realized he’d thought of the man as his. And he wasn’t. Hell, Jamie didn’t even yet belong to himself. That’s how damn new he was.

  “Jesus, McGarry. Get your shit together.” Right. Fine. He walked away from the window. Got a drink. Read one of the lifestyle magazines spread out on the coffee table. Went back downstairs with half a mind to just go home.

  He was relieved to find that the submissive wasn’t at the bar, so he slipped onto an empty bar stool and waited to catch Quinton’s eye. He’d let himself have a second drink before he called it a night.

  After a few minutes, Quinton did a double take when he saw him sitting there and made his way down the bar. “Hey,” he said, his gaze narrowed. “Huh.”

  “Problem?” Alex asked, chuffing out a laugh.

  “Uh, I guess not.”

  Alex gave him a droll stare. Quinton loved to make a
little show of dispensing information. It made him a great freaking storyteller, which was good for the bar or when you were just shooting the shit, but it also made him infuriating when you just wanted him to get to the damn point. Like now. “Say what’s on your mind, Master Quinton.”

  Giving a little shrug, he tilted his head and wiped at the already clean bar top. “I just thought you were with Jamie tonight, that’s all. Obviously my mistake.”

  “Master Kyler asked me to show the kid around, which is what I did. The rest is up to him. Can I get a whiskey, please?”

  “Coming right up,” Quinton said, reaching for a glass. It didn’t take long until he was delivering the drink. “Well, good on the kid. Looks like he’s finding his way after all.” His gaze landed on something—or someone—over Alex’s shoulder.

  Alex took a sip of the liquor. Then a deep breath. And then he finally gave in to see what Quinton was getting at.

  His gaze landed on Jamie. Who was on his knees at a grouping of seats about thirty feet away. At Master Leo’s feet.

  Jesus Christ. Alex barely managed to hold back the curse. A boulder lodged itself in his chest, and a wave of what might’ve been regret—or panic—twisted up his gut. He swallowed hard against an absolutely brutal rush of jealousy. He had to give Jamie Fielding this much—his masochistic radar was without question tuned to sadists.

  Unlike Alex, Master Leo wasn’t in it for the pain. He liked the chase. The psychological torment that being hunted and stalked could inflict. He was in it for the mindfuck. All of which Alex respected.

  Except when the man went after what Alex wanted.

  What Alex wanted whether he should want it or not.

  It took an enormous force of will to turn away from the scene. And then Alex downed the rest of the whiskey in one biting gulp.

  Quinton eyeballed him. The fucker was way too observant. Quinton Ross seemed easy going and even jovial, but he could read people better than maybe anyone Alex knew. Q leaned in. “You really letting that happen?”

  “He’s free to play with whomever he chooses,” Alex said, his voice a raw scrape. From the alcohol. From the rare overload of emotion. From the war raging inside him. Between what he thought was right for him and what he wanted any-fucking-way.

  Quinton arched a brow. “He looked at you like the sun rose and set in the palm of your damn hand, Master Alex.” How can you walk away from that? He didn’t voice the question, but Alex heard it. Loud and clear.

  And the thing was, Quinton wasn’t wrong. Alex could read people, too. And Jamie was an open freaking book. All the words on his pages might not yet be written in ink, but one thing had been plain as day—Jamie had been interested in Alex.

  And Alex had walked away.

  He couldn’t blame Master Leo for being attracted. Jamie was hot, curious, and eager. And if that wasn’t all appealing enough, that striped yellow-and-black ribbon was like a matador’s muleta—able to attract a sadist’s attention and lure them to charge.

  Now, Alex had to decide—was he going to allow another Dom to experience Jamie Field’s first time playing? Or was he going to claim the submissive for himself? Consequences be damned…

  Six

  Kneeling on the floor, Jamie peered up into the Dom’s mismatched eyes—one blue, one green. Nervous energy made it hard to sit still as Master Leo asked him questions about his interests—questions that brought Jamie closer and closer to actually doing this. To actually having sex with a near-stranger within a BDSM context.

  Jamie wanted to do it. He wanted to know if this represented something of what he’d been missing. If this might help explain why he always struggled to connect. If needing these activities explained why he’d messed up so many relationships.

  And Master Leo was attractive. Between those unique eyes, and the longish dark blond hair, and the breadth of his shoulders, there was no denying the man’s appeal. And there was a look in those eyes that Jamie liked, too. One that said Master Leo could be harsh and intimidating and maybe even scary.

  But the problem was that Jamie was making comparisons that made it difficult for him to settle into the what might be happening between them. To give himself over to it. To turn off his thinking mind and just…submit.

  Comparisons with Master Alex.

  Master Alex who instructed you to find someone to play with. Someone else.

  Which, fuck. Maybe he’d read things all wrong, because Jamie had felt like they’d had chemistry. Maybe even the beginnings of a connection. Yet Master Alex hadn’t been interested after all. So where did that leave him but to try with someone else? Especially since his holiday travel plans meant he’d only have guaranteed access to the club for half of the two-week provisional membership.

  “Have you heard of primal play before, Jamie?” Master Leo asked, peering down at him from the chair where he sat.

  “No, Sir,” Jamie said, though the sound of it rushed a shiver over Jamie’s back.

  Master Leo leaned forward so that his knees came around Jamie’s upper body, boxing him in, bringing them close. “It’s a form of role playing, where I would be the predator, and you would be the prey. Where I would take, and you would let me.” He arched a brow over his blue eye. “And where the fucking would be primal, animalistic.”

  There was no denying that Jamie’s body liked the hell out of what the Dom described, because his breath caught as blood rushed into his dick. He swallowed hard.

  “Is that something you would like to try?”

  “Master Leo, I’m truly sorry to interrupt you.”

  Goosebumps raced over every inch of Jamie’s skin. Because that voice had come from right behind where he knelt, and Jamie knew exactly who it belonged to. Jamie’s heart was suddenly booming within his chest, so hard that the whoosh whoosh of his own pulse inside his ears threatened to drown out everything else.

  Except Jamie really wanted to know why, despite his regret, Master Alex was interrupting.

  “Master Alex,” Master Leo said, slowly pulling his gaze away from Jamie, but not at all withdrawing the closeness of his body. “What can I do for you?”

  Silence stretched out between the two Dominants, and Jamie ached to turn around and see why Alex wasn’t responding, especially as people on nearby seats noticed the quiet confrontation. Finally, his voice rolled out in a low, gravelly tone. “There’s no way to say this without causing offense to you, and for that I apologize. But Jamie and I spent time together earlier, and I left him with the erroneous impression that I was done with our conversation. I would like him to know that I erred in creating that impression.”

  Master Leo didn’t move a muscle, but somehow his whole demeanor changed anyway. That was the moment Jamie in fact saw just how scary those strange eyes could look. Because the Dom appeared to be pissed.

  “Please wait, Jamie,” Master Leo said, rising. The two Doms stepped away, far enough that Jamie couldn’t hear them. But he was absolutely dying of curiosity. Because Master Alex wanted to spend time with him again. And the only “conversation” they hadn’t finished was the one that began with Jamie asking what he was supposed to do next.

  Did that mean…? Jesus, what did that mean?

  And what the hell was Jamie supposed to do while the two Doms engaged in some sort of a pissing match over him? He was definitely in way over his head here. Even if it was a little bit thrilling.

  Forever came and went while Jamie waited, and then Master Leo returned to stand in front of him. Jamie kept his gaze lowered, not sure what to do, and whether the Dom was upset with him. So he held his position, remembering what Master Alex had said about the waiting position and how it could represent contrition.

  “Look at me, please,” Master Leo said. Jamie lifted his gaze. “Master Alex would like a word with you if you’re willing?”

  Jamie swallowed hard, regretting letting this man down, even if he was pulled more strongly to someone else. He also really respected the way the Dom had phrased his question, instead of mor
e bluntly asking Jamie to make a choice. As if this wasn’t already awkward as hell. “I am, Sir.”

  Master Leo nodded. “Very well. Another time, then. You’re dismissed.”

  “Yes, Sir,” he said, rising and feeling more than a little like the ground wasn’t quite solid under his feet. Master Leo disappeared into the crowd as Jamie turned, and his gut fell. Because Master Alex was nowhere—

  There. At the bar. Looking straight at Jamie like he wanted to make a fucking meal out of him.

  “Fuck,” Jamie whispered to himself. And then he forced his feet to move. He wasn’t sure what he was walking into, but the dark, hot possibility of it made him a little lightheaded. And then he was standing in front of the Dom, heart racing, blood heating, mouth dry. He wasn’t sure what to do or say, so he dropped his gaze and waited. There was almost a satisfaction in being able to do that, in being able to hand off that control to someone else.

  Master Alex stepped right into his personal space, holding himself just separate from bringing them body to body, and then he gently cupped him by the neck and brought his mouth to Jamie’s ear. “I fucked up. And I would like a chance to talk to you. About playing. If you’re willing to give it to me.”

  An exhilarated sweat bloomed over Jamie’s whole body and made him suddenly sure he’d give this man almost anything for the reactions he seemed able to wring out of him. With just a touch or a whisper.

  But Jamie didn’t want to be jerked around, either. Not when this place felt like it could open a door for which he’d maybe been looking forever, and not when his guaranteed time here was so limited. And so Jamie mustered some big brass balls, lifted his gaze, and met the other man’s eyes. “I’m new at all this, Sir. But I’m not new at dating or relationships, or hooking up, for that matter. So, are you sure? Because I’ve kinda had enough of screwing up relationships, and I’m looking for…something here. So if you’re not sure, I’d—”

  “I’m fucking sure.” Master Alex’s dark gaze blazed.