by Lilia Moon
Some ham in the corner of the couch furthest from me stands up and starts shaking his hips, sending a bunch of silver discs shimmying merrily.
Ari laughs. “Sit down, Ronny—you haven’t lost yet.”
“Yes, Mistress.” He sits down, blowing her kisses.
I get the message. This isn’t a night where subs are going to be on their good behavior. I glance over at Harlan, grinning—and find him devouring me with his eyes.
Damn.
Ari holds up a hand. “Before we start, five-minute break for those of you who need to pee, adjust your anal plugs, or have a chat with your Dom or sub. Limits matter tonight just like any other night, so if you don’t know what yours are, sort them out fast.”
I’m trying to imagine what limits might be necessary for a miming game, but most of the obviously paired people in the room are leaning their heads together, so clearly Ari understands something I don’t. I’m beginning to suspect that there’s a whole lot of somethings I’m clueless on right now.
An arm slides around my waist from the back, and I’m snugged up against hard Dom muscle faster than I can bleat in protest. I struggle momentarily, not at all sure I’m ready for this kind of public claiming.
The growl in my ear isn’t remotely sympathetic.
I freeze, registering Harlan’s body language—and how many eyes are subtly and not so subtly turned our way. Oops. I relax into him, apologizing in the best way I know how.
His arm eases. “I should have warned you that I can be an overbearing bastard.”
I grin—at the moment he’s nuzzling into my shoulder and doing a good impression of a teddy bear. “So tell me why Ari thinks we need to be talking right now. The rules seem pretty clear.”
“Those are the club rules that apply to everyone. She wants to make sure you know my rules for you tonight.”
That has my body wanting to tense up again, but I do my best to relax. “I just came here to play charades.”
Another growl. “You came here as my sub.”
I freaking wish his gravel didn’t make me quiver so damn fast.
His free hand cups my breast, brushes over my nipple. “Shh. Easy, beautiful. You can set ground rules if you need to as well.”
I’m so lost. “This is charades.”
He picks me up and turns me around, and I suddenly find myself standing between his legs as he leans on the stool I just vacated. His eyes are full of amusement. “I could tell you that you need to sit naked in my lap all night, or I could insert your favorite vibrating egg and tell you that you can’t come unless your team wins.”
“Are you freaking kidding me?”
His laugh rumbles out into the room. His hands are solid on my hips, his thumbs rubbing circles on my belly that are anything but soothing. “Just letting you know some of what you might see tonight.”
I gulp. I’m so not in Kansas anymore. “So what are your rules for me?”
He grins. “Just one. Sometime before you go home tonight, I want you to ask nicely to come for me. It can be as private or as public as you want.”
It’s all I can do not to rub my legs together.
He’s watching me in the way that I already know means he’s seeing everything, and his eyes are gleaming. “Or maybe I’ll just slide my fingers into your pussy right now and let everyone hear how beautiful you are when you shatter.”
The whimper that escapes is me is wanton and pissy and more than a little desperate.
He brushes his thumbs over my nipples. “One orgasm tonight, and only one. You decide when, you decide where.”
I can barely breathe. “I guess that leaves you deciding how hard, how fast, and how long, huh?”
His eyes go molten. “And how many times I’ll be spanking your ass before you get to come.” His hands on my nipples pull me in, and he’s not being gentle anymore. “I’ll be keeping track, beautiful. Every sass, every swing of those hips where you try to tease your Dom, every time you think something sexy and don’t come over and tell me what’s got you all hot and bothered.”
I’m so fucking wet I can feel it starting to soak into my jeans.
He smiles, and I know he can tell. “We’ll start with three for the sexy outfit you didn’t wear tonight.”
I’m in jeans and a tank top. “This is as sexy as punk rockers get.”
Whatever he’s going to say is interrupted by clapping from behind me.
“Time’s up.” Ari sounds way too damn cheerful. “Find your team couch and keep your hands wherever they’re supposed to be.”
I turn around, trying to pull my brain out of wherever Harlan has just sent it, and discover that lots of the people in the lounge are now in various shades of halfway naked, and more than one sub has a rosy ass or nipple clamps or the slightly stilted walk that means they’re wearing things I can’t see.
I breathe in, knowing I’ve landed in the big leagues, and feel Harlan’s hand at my back. Steadying me. Pushing me forward. Reminding me I have every right to be here, and that I know most of these people and like them a lot.
Ari grins and waves me over to her couch. She shimmies over to one side to make room for me and then gasps, glaring at a hot young guy in leathers on a different couch.
Marla laughs from my other side. “He’s just waiting for a chance to paddle you, Ari—don’t get his hopes up so fast.”
Ari snickers and then sucks in her breath again. This time she moans a little before she finally exhales. “Damn. He’s got evil timing.” She takes a couple more breaths and then shoots me a look. “You okay with this, sweetie?”
I can see Marla tuning in too. Two women who know the deep end really well, making sure the newbie doesn’t go under. Something inside me unfurls into their solid warmth. I’ve sat with friends riding highs, riding crashes, doing deep damage to their ability to live happy and sane in the world. This is so much different. So much better.
I grin at Ari. “Harlan says I only get one orgasm tonight. Bet you come before I do.”
Her eyes flash with hilarity and pride and competitive fire. “You’re on, chickadee.” She looks over at Harlan, sitting quietly on a couch between Damon and a guy I don’t know. “Get her riled, will you? I need her to come before I do. Cookies are on the line.”
I splutter, but I know better than to fight sneaky tactics with petty whining. I look at the man she was glaring at earlier. “I’m pretty easy, so you might want to get on that. I hear she likes to bake naked.”
He grins at me, and suddenly Ari’s squirming again.
And oddly, as I sit between one woman on the brink of orgasm and another one who’s laughing so hard she might pee at any moment—I feel as easy and as loved and as accepted as I’ve ever been.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Harlan
I need her in my lap. Not to stake my claim, but just because I have the crazy need to touch her and hold her and feel her against my skin, and to honor the journey she’s walking tonight.
But I’ve already figured out that she needs to walk this part alone. To sit in the middle of my tribe and feel her way to however she wants to belong. Marla and Ari are making sure she has every possible opportunity—and where they go, everyone else will follow.
I wonder if my sub has any idea just how well everyone in this room is reading her. Her poker face blew wide open on a rock wall late last night and it’s never come back. Her bravery and loneliness and hope and longing are written all over her.
Along with how desperately she wants to ride my fingers again.
Letting her pick when and where isn’t a beginner game. It’s going to confuse the lines and I’m going to have to fix that later, and I know better than to rile up a newbie sub this much without giving her anything obvious to hold on to. But she asked for the times in between, and this is one way to get them, even if the rules aren’t as clear and easy.
I watch Scorpio’s face light up with laughter and more than a little embarrassment as Ari’s Dom for the night has her sque
aking and stuffing a hand between her legs.
Damon and I are keeping an eye on him, because this is his first night here, but so far he totally has Ari’s number. It’s good to see. Not very many people can get that far with her—not with her still this happy and obviously angling for whatever they put on the punishment menu together.
I grin at my sub. I’m pretty damn pleased with that particular item on our menu tonight too. It was a last-minute addition, a way to have fun with her and give her permission to let her mouth run free. I see her looking at me and I hold up another finger. I don’t even know what she’s done to deserve it, and it doesn’t matter. Her bent over my knee, ass squirming in the air, is a reward I plan to collect on.
Scorpio sees my finger, sighs, and shakes her head ruefully. Then she holds up three fingers, which nearly blasts a cock-sized hole in my vaunted self-control.
She’s getting to me, this sub who likes to let loose and who likes to play and who isn’t remotely afraid of her edges or mine or the stuff that is somehow leaking out into the middle. I get up and walk over behind her couch and slide my head down beside her ear. “For someone who’s never been spanked before, you seem pretty sure you’re going to like it.”
She’s shivering, but manages a cocky grin. “Who says I haven’t been spanked?”
Ari snickers beside me. I raise an eyebrow at her Dom. “I hear she likes to bake naked.”
He grins and obliges me, and I nuzzle into my sub as Ari turns into a puddle of girl trying to withhold orgasm and rapidly losing. “I say.”
Scorpio’s having a hard time ignoring the action right beside her. Her eyes are on me, but her breathing is going haywire.
My respect for Ari’s new Dom ratchets up sharply when he turns off the remote about half a second before she loses it entirely. I hold up two more fingers for my sub and walk away, leaving her to figure out why.
It would be fun to have her in my lap for the rest of the night, but it’s more fun watching her reactions—and for that I need to see her face. I join Emily’s team and send Quint packing. He’s got the best view of the face I need to see. He goes without a murmur of protest and takes his tiny fireball of a trainee sub with him. She’s clearly not new to the lifestyle or he wouldn’t have her here. She casts a knowing glance at me as she leaves, and I know it’s not only the Doms watching the action tonight.
I grin. I like it when people watch.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Scorpio
Ari lurches to her feet long enough to grab a velvet bag and toss it to one of the other couches. “You guys are up first.” Her voice is breathy, like she’s still fighting off massive distraction.
I’m not sure whether to be sorry my Dom left or sorry he didn’t stay.
After some jostling, the tiny sub on Quint’s lap stands up. She looks down at the strip of paper in her hand, grins at her team, and holds up three fingers.
“Three words.” Her people have clearly done this before.
She flashes three fingers again.
“Third word.”
She motions Quint to stand up with a come-hither look that has half the guys in the room volunteering.
He raises an eyebrow. “Spanking bench.”
Ari hoots beside me. “That’s two words, Quint—learn to count.” She makes it almost through her sentence before she starts squirming again.
I’m damn glad Harlan doesn’t have a remote in his hand. His eyes are trouble enough. And his cute little rule that means I’m going to be thinking about his fingers in my pussy all damn night. Or my first spanking.
I glance his way and see him holding up two fingers.
Fuck. I hope Ari’s squirming enough to cover the fact that I’m not sitting very still either.
The tiny sub sticks her hands in Quint’s lap, first close together, and then moving one out. Measuring an invisible inflating penis.
Emily, sitting primly on the end of the couch, grins. “Elongation.”
Damon laughs so hard from his team couch that he nearly chokes. “Really, sweetheart? Name one song with that in the lyrics.”
The tiny sub swats Damon and motions Emily to repeat her word, and then makes shrinking motions with her hands. Make the word shorter. Emily grins again. “Long. ‘All Night Long’.”
Her whole team piles off the couch for a victory dance, and Quint tosses Emily into the air. “We are so winning this thing.” He looks over at Damon. “I’m keeping her. She’s way too smart for you.”
Emily rolls her eyes and pokes Quint in the ribs. “If you get me spanked again today, I will get even.”
Quint lets go of her like she’s electrocuted him, which has Damon laughing again.
They manage to get themselves under control and back on their couch in some semblance of a well-behaved team, and then it’s our turn. After some elbowing and giggling, Marla pushes herself up and plucks a strip of paper from Ari’s bag. She grins and holds up three fingers and flashes them twice.
I’ve got this. Wedding planners for the win. “Three words, third word.”
She walks over and kisses the man she came with. He pulls her in for a far more thorough kiss, and he doesn’t stick with just her lips.
Ari snorts beside me. “Hot.”
Marla jumps off Jacob, which gets her a swat that mostly misses and a growl that promises this will come back to bite her later. She ignores him and dances over to Doxy and points at her shiny engagement ring, holding one finger in the air.
I say the obvious. “First word. Circle. Ring.”
The guy on the end of our couch looks confused. “‘Circle of Hot’?”
I shake my head. We are so losing this thing. “Do none of you listen to music ever? ‘Ring of Fire’.”
Ari pouts beside me. “Dammit, Scorpio—we wanted to see Marla’s clit ring.”
I don’t even know what that is—and I suddenly realize that the point of this night doesn’t have a whole lot to do with being a good charades player. I suddenly feel like a newbie, and not in a good way.
Marla walks over to Jacob and eases herself into his lap, gasping a little as she sits. Then she winks at me and pulls me right off my ledge of stupid. These people aren’t trying to sideline me—my own ignorance is doing that, but the only one who cares about that is me.
I thought I knew this world, but in this moment, the difference between being a tourist and a resident is excruciatingly clear.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Harlan
This night is way too fucking long.
My team is so far ahead nobody’s going to catch up, which is totally Damon’s fault. He hasn’t figured out how to distract his sub, and Emily’s singlehandedly keeping us at the top of the leaderboard. Which is quite the trick when you’re a pretty woman in a demure green dress sitting on a team couch full of Doms who’ve clearly failed every acting class they ever attended.
I shake my head as Scorpio’s team takes possession of the velvet bag and Ari gets up again. She looks at her strip of paper, and then something odd crosses her face and she walks over and whispers into the ear of her Dom.
He gives her a look I can’t read and nods. Permission granted, for whatever it is.
She ditches her high-heel boots and latex leggings and lets down her hair, and suddenly she’s Ari in floaty red lingerie, looking young and ethereal and dreamy.
I have no idea what word she’s going after. It doesn’t matter. My eyes are on my sub. She hasn’t moved, hasn’t done anything obvious to grab my attention. But she’s watching Ari, and only Ari, and Scorpio’s eyes are yearning and running scared again—and the spell doesn’t break until the one Dom in the room who clearly didn’t fail his acting classes bends Ari back in one of those swoony kisses that looks like it belongs on the cover of a romance novel.
Then Ari snaps back into being Ari, her Dom pushes whatever evil button he has in his pocket, and she comes in his arms, hard enough to cause an earthquake and cursing a blue streak, and Scorpio’s laughi
ng along with everyone else as the boldest sub in the house loses her bet and plants a huge kiss on the cheek of the man who made it happen.
I’m still stuck in the moment where my sub’s eyes went all soft and haunted. It’s the second time in two days I’ve seen it. Fear and longing.
Fuck. I just want to hold her tonight. I don’t want to push her.
But that’s the man talking.
The Dom can see her need.
There’s an edge coming, and we need to face it, and I’m going to need to help her. But she asked more of me, and somehow I need to give her that too. The fun and the safety and the deep goodness of the in-between. To spank her and tease her and make her come and then tuck her in next to me and hold her while she sleeps.
Even if that makes tomorrow harder for both of us.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Scorpio
One minute I’m sitting on the couch laughing, listening to Ari curse and mutter, Marla still shaking with merriment beside me. The next I’m slung over the shoulder of an impatient caveman and watching all my new friends laugh upside down as he storms out of the room.
I’m damn tempted to swat his ass and make him put me down. “The fuck?”
“That can be arranged too.” He sounds far too pleased by that thought.
I sway for a moment when he puts me down. We’re in the dungeon, and that’s about all I have time to register before he sits down on a spanking bench, grins at me, and holds up two fingers. “Two more for the smart-ass thoughts you had as I dragged you in here.”
He’s definitely gone all Dom on me—but there’s a lightness to it. A teasing. And damn if it doesn’t make me want whatever’s coming next. I glance over at the door and the big ears I’m sure are on the other side.