by Livia Grant
She almost wished she’d let him kiss her.
Damn. Why did she have to be such a freak?
Jafari
“Are you sure we can’t talk you into topping for a gay sub tonight?” Elijah asked.
Jafari took a sip of sparkling wine, judging the vintage as always. It was from a winery not too far from his own in Napa, and was decent quality, if not completely to his exacting standards. A case of one of his better cabs was available for the silent auction, in fact. Despite winning multiple awards, that year had never sold as well as it should have. Perhaps giving a case away would drum up some word-of-mouth advertising.
He considered Elijah’s words, then shrugged inwardly. He wasn’t gay or even bisexual, but to him, a submissive was a submissive. Male or female, they all cried out in pleasured pain, and he was an expert at making them walk the line between the two. The chances of him being matched with a sub who didn’t have needles on their list of hard limits would be slim anyway.
“I suppose I—”
A whiff of vanilla perfume caught him off guard and he spun, then glimpsed a blonde woman with short, shaggy curls. He couldn’t see anything but the back of her head through the crowd, but she looked exactly like the submissive whose memory had kept his cock hard for almost a month straight.
Kacy Coleman had been the perfect masochistic canvas for his art. Beautiful and plump in all the right places with curves like a forties-era starlet and delicate skin that pierced so beautifully, she was a dream come true for a sadist. Finally, the crowd parted and his breath caught.
She wore a black dress that bared her silky shoulders and tattooed arms. More ink twined up her legs to disappear under the scandalously short hem. Frowning, he noticed she’d lost a bit of weight since their last meeting, and the immediate desire to have her in his house so he could care for her surprised him.
“That woman,” he said, pointing. “Kacy Coleman. Is she in Roulette?”
Elijah flipped through his notepad, then nodded. “Yes. Hard limits are—”
“I already know them. I apologize, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to do what you ask.”
Well, he thought he’d known them. She never once uttered a safe word, but he must have broken at least one of her limits. She’d run away from him in the middle of aftercare.
Following his gaze, Elijah nodded, then closed his notepad. “Can’t say I’m not disappointed, but I wish you the best of luck with your spin.”
“Thank you.”
His scared little rabbit had come back, and he wanted to rub his hands together with anticipation. His mother always said if he prayed hard enough, his wishes would come true, but he doubted she’d have approved of exactly what he wished for.
He rarely had time to use it, but he kept a yearly membership to Black Light, so he didn’t need the free month. He had to know why Kacy ran away. Hell, she’d even thanked him for the scene, and offered to give him her phone number, but left before they had the chance to exchange information.
When Elijah left to attend to other matters, Jafari stepped into a darkened corner to watch her, nodding in approval when she ate a full plate of appetizers, then detoured to the ladies’ room.
She exited the restroom, and he silently encouraged her to drink an extra bottle of water. He wanted her well-hydrated. She did, sipping the second bottle slowly as the theater filled with people.
As unobtrusively as possible, he positioned himself behind her, then leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“It’s very good to see you, little rabbit.”
Spinning around, Kacy’s plump lips parted and she wobbled on her heels. The bottle of water fell from her hands, and he crouched to pick it up. Taking her hand, he curled her cold fingers around the plastic.
“Careful, ma chérie,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips across her ear. She smelled just like he remembered. The rich scent of vanilla combined with the warm perfume of her skin made him hard in an instant.
“I—”
“Shhh.” He stroked a curl and tucked it behind her ear. “We’re going to talk after Roulette, do you understand? You will leave your phone number with Elijah, and you will answer when I call.”
“But I—”
“I will take you to lunch tomorrow. We won’t be playing again. All I want is an explanation.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll make sure you have my number.” She took a step back, then scrubbed at her glistening eyes with the back of her hand. “You’d better go.”
Jafari swore under his breath. Her obvious upset made him even more determined to find out what had gone wrong last time. Reluctantly, he crossed the stage to join the rest of the dominants.
One of the men ahead of him whistled rudely, interrupting the MC’s opening speech.
“Calm down, boys. Mistress Madison is talking.”
He chuckled softly and shared a glance with the gentleman next to him, who said, “Baby doms. What are you gonna do?”
When she finished going over the rules, she called the doms onto the stage and grabbed the numbered sticks to hand them out. Jafari reached forward to take one, but he didn’t look at Madison or the number on his stick. Instead, his gaze was fixed on Kacy’s shocked brown eyes in the little crowd of submissives.
The first dom spun a name, but he was too intent on Kacy to pay him or his partner for the evening any heed. He didn’t even hear the kink the woman spun.
The second dom took his spin, making him wish he could take Kacy somewhere private so they could talk. He gave the briefest of applause to the couple when the woman spun their first kink, his impatience rising.
“Who has number three?” Madison called out.
Jafari held back a growl of annoyance and scanned the doms, wishing the fool would hurry along and spin. Belatedly, he remembered to look at his own number.
Three, of course. Perhaps he’d spank Kacy for making him lose focus.
Stomping to the wheel, he gave vent to his irritation and tossed his ball into the spinning whirl of names. He had zero desire to play with any of the subs waiting to find a partner, no matter appealing they were. Only Kacy would do.
Worse, the thought of her being paired with someone else made him furiously angry. The bruises and welts left on her pristine skin wouldn’t be his, and it was intolerable.
Tuning out the crowd noise, he prayed. The wheel finally slowed, going around one more full turn before coming to a stop.
“Master Jafari will be paired with Special K,” Madison announced.
Kacy jerked and her soft brown eyes widened with surprise. Jafari smiled with satisfaction at her slight shiver. His little rabbit was nervous, just as she should be.
“Her hard limits are ABDL, scat, water sports, and breath play.”
He remembered the first three, but she’d claimed the fourth as a soft limit when they played before. Had something happened in the meantime? Jafari tamped down the surge of jealous rage at the thought of someone harming her.
Something was missing though. He’d never once broken a partner’s hard limit, and although a few had called yellow, not a single one had ever said red. He took it as his ultimate responsibility to make sure they never had to.
Was there one she wasn’t saying? If that was the case, he’d be more than happy to make her see her error. Failure to communicate or heed a safe word were both inexcusable breaches of trust between submissive and dominant.
She was his for the next three hours, and no one else would touch her. His smile turned feral, but he inclined his head and offered her his arm when she reached center stage. He would send his mother flowers for her good advice later.
Chapter 2
Kacy
Kacy was torn between jumping for joy and running in terror.
The look on Jafari’s face scared her and made her wet at the same time. When he wrapped a protective arm around her and pulled her into his hard chest, the immediate surge of desire nearly dropped her to her knees. His thick cock pressing into
her backside made her bite back a whimper of need.
Instead of the dungeon attire many of the dominants wore, Jafari was dressed simply in a white dress shirt with onyx cufflinks and a red bow tie. She knew without asking it was a real, honest-to-God tie and not one of the elastic ones that came with rented tuxedos. It made him look like a slightly nerdy cover model, and her fingers itched to loosen the knot.
His only concession to the evening was tight leather trousers and snakeskin boots, both in black. She wanted to ask where he’d found leather pants long enough to fit him, but didn’t dare.
It was odd. She remembered the well-worn leather play bag he carried but hadn’t been able to remember his name.
“Oh, the things I’m going to do to you, my little rabbit,” he murmured into her ear, his lips brushing the tender shell. “Do you see all the naughty activities on that wheel?”
Shivering, she held in a gasp when he eased the strap of her dress down, his fingers searing a path across her shoulder.
“I… I thought we weren’t going to play again. Why didn’t you use your safe word and bow out?”
He turned her to face him, then tipped up her chin with a gentle finger. “Why didn’t you?”
She knew she should tell him the truth, but when she met his gorgeous dark eyes, the words wouldn’t come.
He was fucking perfect. Dark mahogany skin contrasted with the salt and pepper in his beard and short, well-maintained locs. Full lips parted to reveal a gleaming white smile. She loved his effortless dominance and the delicious mixture of pain and pleasure he delivered. Their kinks matched like puzzle pieces.
How the hell was she supposed to tell him she didn’t want to kiss him?
“Special K, it’s time to spin for your first kink,” Madison called.
She tried to wriggle free, but he shook his head. “Answer the question, then you may spin. Why didn’t you use your safe word?”
Swallowing hard, she said, “Because I didn’t want to.”
Cupping her chin, he traced her lower lip with his thumb. “Good girl,” he finally murmured, letting her go.
Goosebumps rose on her arms, followed by a rush of heat. She staggered to the roulette wheel, thankful he didn’t try to kiss her. She had no idea if she’d have run again or let him.
No, she couldn’t let him. Maybe he didn’t think it meant anything, but it did to her. All she had to do was make it through their three kinks, then she’d tell him.
She’d be ready when he dumped her for being weird.
Her hand shook when she tossed the ball into the spinning wheel, not daring to open her eyes to see where it landed.
“Well, this one seems to be on everyone’s list of hard limits,” Madison said dryly. “ABDL means you get another spin.”
She placed the ball in Kacy’s nerveless fingers. Drawing in a breath, she tossed it once more.
“Cell popping,” Madison announced.
Branding, albeit temporary. The overwhelming arousal at the thought of being permanently marked by him nearly made her stumble off the edge of the stage.
“Interesting choice,” he said softly, catching her before she fell. “What design do you think I should make?”
“I…” The words stalled in her throat. “I’ve never done it before.”
“Nor have I, chérie. We’ll try it together, but we must wait until everyone else spins, yes?”
Surreptitiously, she brushed her clammy palms against her dress, then took a sip of water to ease her dry throat.
The sheer debauched variety made her head whirl. She wanted to try several, including the Sybian and pain play. She wished she could watch but wasn’t about to give up her second chance with Jafari, even though it wouldn’t go anywhere.
Kacy drew in a deep, calming breath, then stepped from the stage with Jafari’s arm wrapped firmly around her waist. She was grateful for the support, and he smelled so damned good. It was a mixture of citrus and spice that made her want to lick him.
“Everything sounds so interesting,” she murmured. “I wish we could see a few of the scenes.”
He drew a hand down her spine to her ass, then gave her a warning squeeze. “Shh. Let’s watch the spins.”
She shivered and let herself enjoy his touch.
The applause for the last couple died down, and someone from the audience shouted, “Let’s go!”
“You’re right! It’s time for our participants to go and start Valentine Roulette! Good luck!”
Oh, God, it was time.
“Come, Kacy,” he said softly, leading her away from the stage and out of the theater. By the time they reached a leather-topped massage table set in the middle of the room, a crowd had already gathered, jockeying for position.
The sheer number of people watching almost made her lose her nerve. If either she or Jafari had done cell popping before, she’d feel more comfortable, but they’d be relying on the expertise of a dungeon monitor before they’d be able to start.
She knew how cell popping, or Devil’s Fire, worked in theory. It was a relatively harmless temporary scarification in which a heated probe or needle was very briefly touched to the skin to leave a small burn in the upper epidermis. There would be a small pop or sizzle, giving the technique its name.
Although she’d only seen it demonstrated a few times, it had been entrancing to watch. Still, she wasn’t entirely sure about having marks burnt into her skin. This was a risky kink, and one she’d never seriously contemplated for herself. How would she react when the needle touched her skin?
Then again, piercing and tattoos carried their own risks as well.
“Finish your water, chérie,” Jafari said. “I want you to have sufficient hydration.”
“Yes, Master Jafari.”
It seemed natural to call him that, especially since it wasn’t just a nickname he’d chosen for Roulette. The warm approval in his eyes let her know she’d made the right choice.
The cold water soothed her parched throat, and she capped the empty bottle. He took it from her and tossed it into a small wastebasket. Kneeling, he stroked his big hands down her calves then unbuckled the straps of her sandals, easing them off carefully.
He rose to his feet, then cocked his head. “Are you nervous?”
She blew out a breath and closed her eyes, then shook her head. If she couldn’t see the crowd surrounding them, she could pretend they didn’t exist.
“Words,” Jafari ordered. “And look at me.”
Swallowing hard, she opened her eyes and lifted her chin. “No, sir.”
“I see.” Spinning her around, he bent her over the bench. His large hand fell to her ass in a stinging slap, followed by several more in quick succession.
Yelping, she struggled for a moment, but couldn’t get free of his hand resting on her back. Flipping up her dress, he kept going until heat flared in her bottom, moving deep into her core. Tears pricked her eyes and she bit back a moan, arching her spine to expose more of her ass.
After delivering a few more hard spanks to the tender crease between her ass and thighs, he bent and brushed his lips over her earlobe, then squeezed her punished backside, making the sparks of pain build. “I don’t like lies, little one,” he whispered. “Try again.”
Kacy’s breath caught. It wasn’t possible for him to have figured out she’d lied about her hard limits. Her muddled brain finally fixed on the question he’d asked. “I… I’m a little scared. What happens if I mess up?”
He helped her stand but didn’t let her pull her dress down to cover her red bottom. Cupping her cheeks, he kissed her forehead. “Trust me, sweetheart. You’re not going to mess up.”
Jafari
Kacy stiffened the minute his lips touched her forehead, relaxing only when he pulled away. If he hadn’t just eaten a mint, he might have wondered if his breath offended her. Aside from that, she hadn’t reacted negatively when he whispered in her ear, or at any other time.
Jafari stroked her shoulders, wondering if it was
an aversion to touch, yet she softened and leaned into his hands like a spoiled cat after having her bottom spanked. There was something going on with her, and he was determined to figure it out. Unfortunately, Roulette was neither the time nor the place.
He didn’t care one way or the other about the free month, but he did want to complete the evening successfully. Deciding to keep a close eye on her, he took a step back.
None of the equipment for their scene had arrived yet. Jafari frowned, wondering what he could do to make her more comfortable with his touch. He had needles and piercing supplies in his play bag, yet piercing wasn’t their first spin.
“Hold up for just a few minutes.” A dungeon monitor approached, wheeling a metal cart laden with camp stove fuel, a small metal rack, and several tiny probes with wooden handles, along with a fire extinguisher and a first aid kit. There was also a violet wand in a plastic carrying case.
“Is something wrong?” Kacy asked, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.
“No, we’re just moving you closer to a ventilation duct, so any odor won’t get blown into the rest of the club. The air filtration will take care of it.”
The DM pushed his cart ahead, ignoring the crowd waiting excitedly.
Crouching, Jafari collected Kacy’s shoes, then stood and cupped her elbow to escort her to a massage table in a corner near the lap pool just below a ventilation grate set in the wall.
“I’m Tyler. Have either of you done this before?”
“No, but I’ve seen it done.”
“I have too,” Kacy said.
“Good. There are two methods. One is the traditional heated needle, but you can also use a violet wand. This one is modified to accept a micro-branding tool. It’s used the same way, but the marks tend to last longer.”
Tyler let Kacy play with the wand for a few moments, then said, “Since the wand leaves longer-lasting marks, you can refuse it without penalty, but I’m happy to teach Master Jafari its use if either of you are interested.”