by Lilia Moon
“Eyes on me, beautiful.”
My head snaps back to him before I can even think.
“There are consequences to yanking on your Dom’s chain.” He pats his leg. “Drop your jeans and bend over my lap, ass in the air.”
A whimper sneaks out, and I slap a hand over my mouth at the raw desire in that sound and what it must tell him.
He reaches up and pulls down my wrist. “Never try to hide what you feel. Not from me.” The corners of his lips turn up. “Looking forward to this, are you?”
I suck in a breath, not sure whether to shake my head or nod. “Maybe. I think so. I don’t know.”
He chuckles, and then his eyes do that stern thing again. “Pants down. Ass up.”
I thought this might feel like being a kid in the principal’s office. I’m so wrong. Not with the way his eyes are devouring me. I somehow manage to get my belt undone, and my baggy jeans fall down without any help from me.
He slides a hand between my legs and growls. “Not once tonight did you come over and whisper in my ear and tell me what was turning you on. Tell me now and maybe this spanking gets shorter.”
I’m not sure that’s actually incentive, but his hand in my pussy definitely is. “I loved watching Ari’s Dom tease her. I know this is called play, but with them, it actually looked fun. Silly.” I hitch a breath at what his fingers are doing. “And Quint kept touching his sub, even when he looked like his attention was totally somewhere else.”
I close my eyes, and his fingers stop. Damn. “I think I’d like to be in your lap sometime. At an event like this.” I scrunch my face, because this last part is going to be the hardest, and look at him because I need to see his eyes. “And I know they’re listening out there, at least some of them, and it’s making me wet and bothered.”
His fingers slide up inside me. “And?”
Damn him and his all-seeing eyes. “I’m proud to be here as yours tonight.“
He growls, and suddenly I’m over his lap and my face is pasted into the spanking bench and my feet are flailing. “Then let them hear you be proud, beautiful.” His hand rubs my ass, squeezing. I grab the side of the bench with one hand and his pant leg with the other.
I’m so ready for this.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Harlan
I’m about to fucking punish a woman who has just slayed me with her words. I shake my head, damn glad she was getting every bit of the fun side of this spanking before she changed it into something else. She’s earned every swat, with her mouth and her attitude and her unwavering openness to what I’ve been asking of her and to what she wants to give.
The people on the other side of that door already fucking love her, but this is going to cement her place in this community. In the hearts of the people who are my family.
She jerks when I land my hand on her ass, but there’s no withdrawal. No shock. I grin. Not all edges are hard and sharp. This one is soft and curvy and I have a lapful of woman who can’t wait for me to spank her some more.
There are times when being a really cooperative Dom is its own reward. I swat her again, setting up an alternating rhythm that her punk-rock heart can sing with. And when she starts to push her ass up, asking for more, I give it to her.
I keep it light. This isn’t remotely about pain. It’s about membership, and she’s done all she needs to do to earn hers.
She’s wiggling like sin, trying to get my hand to land on her pussy. I pin her down tighter with my free hand and then move the spanking closer to where she wants it. She starts moaning, thrashing in my lap. I don’t remind her of the very quiet audience on the other side of the dungeon door. Every person in the lounge will respect the hell out of what she’s doing here, and she’s far enough gone that the only thing she’s hearing is my hand.
That’s as deep as I want to take her tonight. We still need to walk back through that door.
I move my hand a little lower, deliver a couple of much softer swats to her dripping arousal. Her eyes snap open and somehow they find mine. “Harlan. Please.”
She’s asking for the orgasm I’ve promised her, but it’s so damn much fun to mess with her. I land my hand on her pussy again, loving the spurting wetness. “More of this?”
It blows my Dom ego up like a balloon when she pauses, clearly considering it. “Later. I need to come.” The last word comes out mostly as a whimper.
She’s so fucking beautiful. I slick my palm with her wetness and then rub in hot, tight circles over her swollen folds. I’m not aiming for finesse—this isn’t going to take long.
She comes, shrieking against my hand and my knee and the spanking bench that has just become her world, and I can hear the moans and murmurs on the other side of the door as more than one sub clearly joins her.
I grin and collect up the hot sweaty mess of woman in my lap and go find us a comfortable chair. Part of this scene is going to be walking back into the lounge, but first I need to hold her. I want to breathe in the awesome, playful, brave sassiness of her and just appreciate the moment. I laugh as I sit down, trying to contend with the fact that she’s still got her jeans around her ankles and her boots on. Newbie Dom error, but I’ll deal. I tuck her into my lap and make sure I can reach the water nearby. She drank an ocean of it the last time we scened together.
It doesn’t take her long to come around this time—she went down fast and she’s coming up that way too.
When I see the focus slide back into her eyes, I hand her the water bottle and pick her up, blanket, boots, jeans around her ankles, and all. Her eyes fly up to mine. “Where are we going?”
I grin down at her sexy, mussed-up face. “To see if anyone’s still playing charades.”
She has time to raise one skeptical eyebrow and then Quint’s sweeping the door open for me and I’m carrying her into the middle of the couches that have been re-arranged into a neat semi-circle facing the dungeon. Just in case Scorpio needs any more clues.
She takes in the shifted furniture and the number of subs sitting in Dom laps looking happy and flustered, and makes a strangled sound in my arms.
Ari laughs from her guy’s knees, his hand still between her legs. “Thanks, Scorpio. You have some seriously contagious orgasms.” She tosses me a bottle of the club’s oil, which is magic for parts that have been well used. “Sounds like her ass could use some of this, and maybe a few other places too.”
The tiny sub in Quint’s arms is still glassy-eyed, but he winks at the woman in my lap. “Next time see if you can hold off a little longer, sweetheart. You made some of us have to work pretty fast to catch up.”
All Scorpio can manage is a squawk.
I squeeze her ass, since it’s handy, and sit down on a couch with Damon and Emily. Scorpio looks over at her boss, sitting primly beside Fettered’s owner with bright-red cheeks and one of her nipples showing, and ducks her head into my chest. I hold her for a minute, surprised she’s this embarrassed—and then I realize she’s laughing.
I shake my head and turn her around so she can’t pull that shit—and so that she can see all the smiles. All the appreciation and respect and welcome and love.
She tilts her head back on my shoulder and drinks it all in.
I hold the bottle of magic oil and wonder whether I need to dump some on my heart.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Harlan
It’s getting too damn cold to be walking around late at night. I keep Scorpio’s hand in mine and watch her for shivering. Hell, I watch her for everything.
She stuffs her other hand in her pocket and grins at me. “Stop fretting. I grew up in Minnesota. This is practically like summer.”
I realize just how much I know about her—and how little. “How’d you end up here?”
“School. Band. Boy.”
I don’t know if that’s multiple choice or just the short version of a long story, but it’s clearly not what she wants to talk about right now. I look over at her again, making sure she’s as solid as
she sounds.
She rolls her eyes at me. “Tonight was awesome and you can stop worrying about me.”
I can’t, but I can at least try to pretend. “That was a pretty big scene, even if it doesn’t feel like it. Public stuff can bring up a lot of issues.”
She shrugs and squeezes my hand. “You warned me we’d be playing that way. A collection of my friends and old-hand club members is a pretty friendly public.”
I stop and turn her toward me, because I need to see her eyes. “Even when they got off on your very noisy pleasure?”
She’s looking embarrassed now, but she meets my gaze. “People used to get off on my singing too. Not quite like that, but close enough. I like sharing. I like knowing other people caught a piece of the good thing I was riding tonight.”
She’s so damn beautiful. “Your boss was looking pretty happy.”
The sound that comes out of my gorgeous sub is almost a giggle. “So was yours.”
“Damon’s found something different since Emily showed up.” Something that maybe the rest of us are suddenly looking for, and that’s shaking me. I thought I had the life I wanted. “He daydreams in his office when he thinks we aren’t watching.”
Scorpio’s grin is big enough to light up half the night. “Emily put her ribbon samples in the fridge yesterday. And one morning last week her shoes didn’t match.”
I look down at her hand in mine. I’m beginning to have an idea of just how brains get scrambled like that.
Scorpio cuddles into my side as we start walking again. “Who’s Ari’s new guy?”
“He’s visiting from a club in L.A. He’s basically her counterpart down there. He came up here to learn from the best.” And apparently she decided to play with him. “He was doing a really good job with her, and that’s not all that easy.”
Scorpio’s forehead wrinkles. “Ari’s got mad skills.”
“Yeah. She can be a good sub for almost anyone, but most guys run into trouble trying to be a Dom for her. They work too hard or they get insecure or they decide they need to prove something or they treat her like a damn trophy.”
My wise sub snorts. “I bet she doesn’t let them get away with that shit.”
Too much sometimes, because she has a soft heart and she wants them to learn. “She’s a good trainer, but that can ruin her fun.”
I feel the sudden tensing under my arm as we turn into the small apartment building where she lives. “Is it ruining yours? Teaching me how to do this?”
Shit—I walked right into that one. “No.” I stop and turn her to face me again. “Tonight was the most fun I’ve had at the club in a really long time, beautiful.” Or out of it.
Her eyes are solemn in the dim of the night. “I want to be what you need.”
“Start with being what you need, okay? That’s the first step here.” That’s the Dom answer, and it somehow hurts to say it out loud. Because the man has a different one. The man could be totally happy with what he has right now. The man doesn’t want to push.
The Dom wants a chance to see what lives out the other side. Wants to give her that chance. Which is tossing the man in way over his head.
I reach for her, because it’s the Dom who’s made her promises. “Come sit with me for a minute. I’ve got something to ask you.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Scorpio
He tugs me over to a planter box and pulls me into his lap. My landlady will have fits—I’m pretty sure he’s sitting on her prize petunias. I don’t say anything, because his energy has totally shifted, and he’s making me nervous.
He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a folded-up envelope, and hands it to me. “Which one is it?”
I slowly flip through what he’s handed me. It’s three of the pictures from Ari’s collection. The restraints one I’ve already given him, and two more. I recognize them both. I look up at him, knowing I’m starting to shake and hating it. “I don’t understand.” All I know is that he’s ruining my high, my really good night, my calm.
Shoving me back on a sharp edge, and I don’t want to be there.
His hand is stroking my back before I finish cursing him in my head. Soothing. Demanding. “Which is the one that makes you want something you haven’t told me about?”
I’m turning clammy and I’m not even sure why. “I gave you the one I liked the best.”
A low, hard growl. “Don’t fuck with me, Scorpio.”
I look at the other two pictures, frustrated and pissy and ready to kick him in the knees because I’m not hiding anything and he’s making me feel like a liar and all they are is two fucking pictures—and then I know. I know exactly what he’s seen, and there’s no freaking way I can say it out loud.
I glare a hole at the image that’s trying to make me weak. “Hard limit.”
He stands me up, facing him, and his eyes are full of cold, dark compassion. “That’s not what limits are for, beautiful. You don’t get to use them to push away something you want. Not when I can see it all over your face.”
I want to throw every word of his fucking contract in his face. “This isn’t what I want.” I’m shaking with something hot and mean. “Why are you pushing on me? Tonight was amazing and now I feel like you’re throwing dirt on it and telling me I wasn’t good enough.”
Fire, to fight what I’m really afraid of.
He cups my face in his big, fierce, gentle hands. “You took your place in my world tonight and you were absolutely gorgeous and nobody can take that away from you.” He takes a ragged breath, and for the first time in this whole deal, I smell his doubt. “That’s not what I’m trying to do here, I promise you.”
It’s the doubt that does me in. I want so much to cuddle into his chest, but I can’t make myself move. “I don’t need all the edges. I lived that life once. I won’t do it again. I’m fine with just a few of them.”
Not this one. Please, not this one.
I can hear his breath, moving in and out. Steadying. His confidence reforming, the gut-deep sense that what he’s doing is right. When he finally reaches a hand to my face, his words are gentle, but absolutely solid. “Take the photos with you. Think about them. If this is still a hard limit for you in the morning and you tell me you’re doing it for the right reasons, I’ll respect that.”
He gives me one of those looks that says he sees right into the chambers of my heart. Then he turns and walks away, and not once, down the entire block that I watch him, does he turn and look back.
Chapter Thirty
Scorpio
Damn him to all fourteen levels of hell and back.
I pour myself a bowl of granola, the good kind with chocolate and coconut and little bits of pineapple that I used to eat by the pound to keep sane on the road. It’s my ultimate comfort food, but I’m pretty sure granola isn’t going to do a darn thing for the storm Harlan has set off inside me.
I stare at the photo that’s been propped on my kitchen table for the last hour. I’ve considered burning it, but that would probably just get me a visit from some nice firefighters who don’t want to hear why I’m using a photograph of a chick in a sexy negligée as tinder.
I trace her face with my finger. I know why she sets me off. It’s the look in her eyes. The thing I don’t want to want. I can tell Harlan—but I know what will happen if I do, and I’m not sure I can stand it.
There are some pieces of me I’m not looking to break.
The knock on my fire-escape door has me jerking so hard I almost dump my granola. I grumble and yank the door open, and blink in surprise when it’s Ari on the other side.
She holds up a bakery bag. “Chocolate éclairs. Don’t shoot.”
I scowl. “Did Harlan send you?”
Her eyebrows fly up. “No. Did he need to?” She walks in and takes the other seat at my table. She’s watching me the whole time, just like he does.
“Fuck.” I push my granola out of the way and lay my head down on my arms. “You all have the same eyes, and I’m sic
k and tired of people studying me like I might crack at any moment.”
“Oh, boy.” A container of orange juice clunks down by my head. “Drink. Now.”
I shoot her an evil look. “What, do you all get lessons in the gravel voice thing?”
She taps my nose with her finger and grins. “I give those lessons, girlfriend.” She opens the orange juice for me. “I don’t know if you’re crashing or just cranky, but this should help either way. Bottoms up.”
I drink, partly because my insides are suddenly screaming for sweet and tangy, and partly because I can see the warm compassion in her eyes that disappeared from Harlan’s last night.
She waits until I finish every drop. Then she opens the bakery bag and pulls out an éclair as big as my head and sets it on the table in front of me.
I manage a smirk. “What, you don’t believe in plates?”
She rolls her eyes and pulls out a second éclair. “Sometimes reactions to a scene can kick in hours or days later, and the crash can be physical as well as emotional. Eat.”
I snort. “I hope your new boy toy kept you up late last night.”
She laughs and takes a huge bite of her éclair. “He did, and I’m starving. I’m also not here to gossip about my night or my Dom’s excellent talents with anal play. Talk, girlfriend.”
I kick her under the table. “Tease.”
She just looks at me.
Bloody hell. “There’s a thing. From one of your porn pictures. Something I’m reacting to but I don’t want. Harlan’s seeing my reaction and he’s pushing on me.”
“Ah.” Her eyes flick to the image that somehow ended up on the floor. “That one?”
So much for anything resembling a private life. “I told him it was a hard limit. He told me I was using that the wrong way.”
Ari picks the image up off the floor and looks at it for a long moment. “With most Doms I’d tell you to stick to your guns. You don’t need a reason for a hard limit. They’re sacred for a reason, just like safewords.”