by Tara Quan
Naomi tightened her hands around the decadent silk. The woman had a point. Based on her current level of cowardice, she’d have a panic attack within moments of leaving this room. She opened her mouth to acquiesce when her brain deciphered the entirety of the monitor’s statement. “Wait. Did you say chained in the public dungeon?” She drew quotes in the air with her fingers.
“So sorry. I keep assuming you’ve visited before. Let me give you a quick and dirty rundown. We’re in the newcomers’ reception area, which doesn’t have much beyond what you saw. Members bypass it and ride the elevator straight to the floors below. The public dungeon”—Kim mimicked Naomi’s hand quotes—“is a bar and lounge surrounded by demonstration rooms, none of which have anything too hard-core. The intense stuff is farther underground, which is why I avoid going down there. They enforce high protocol in the Throne Room, and the master-slave stuff freaks me out. Don’t even start me in on electrical and fire play.”
Naomi’s faith in the woman’s qualifications suffered another nosedive. She couldn’t imagine a worse candidate for a club bouncer than the chirpy hostess. “Sorry, I’m bowing out. I’m not in the mood to play tonight.”
The idea of touching a man other than Luka induced a bout of nausea. After spending the entire day not enjoying this dream vacation, she must face reality. She couldn’t scene with one Dom while pining after another. Accepting the date had been a mistake. Her horniness could best be cured by doing laps in the Castillo Hotel’s giant swimming pool.
Once she returned to Boston, she’d start visiting the on-campus gym on a regular basis. As soon as she graduated, she’d leave the state, and perhaps the country. Problem solved.
Kim grabbed her wrist. “Please don’t go yet. You’re the first newbie they’ve tasked me to guide, and I haven’t worked here long. My boss will think I said something to scare you off.”
The revelation explained a great deal. “It’s not anything you did. I’m—”
“Please come in with me. I’ll hold your chain until the lucky guy arrives, I swear. You don’t want to get me fired, do you?”
Tempted to point out this bouncer job might be doomed regardless of tonight’s events, Naomi considered the request. Shouldn’t she give her date the news in person? Standing him up seemed beyond rude. “Well, I guess—”
“Oh thank you!” Kim bounced in place. “The safe word at the club is red. Say it, and a DM will escort you out—no questions asked. It’s the perfect exit strategy for a blind hookup.” Grabbing the black silk, she proceeded to wrap it around Naomi’s head. “You won’t regret this. The club is something to see…err…I mean, hear and smell, I guess. Never mind that. Food and drink is included in the entrance fee, and the crème brûlée is delish. I’ll grab us both a bite on our way in, along with hot chocolate. Oh, wait. One more thing. We’re enforcing a shoes-off policy for all subs tonight. It’s part of the theme.”
***
The last thing Luka expected to find when the hostess directed him to a reserved corner of the Carnivore Club was Naomi, ensconced in a curtained booth, blindfolded and wearing a corset. His temptress of a dog sitter sipped from a white mug while a bite-sized dungeon monitor fed her tiny spoonfuls of crème brûlée.
The two women seemed to be discussing the best method for trimming cat claws.
To their right, a male sub on a St. Andrew’s cross whimpered as a Domme squeezed his balls. Not far from the scene, a gagged blonde hovered over a sawhorse, her slim legs shaking as she struggled to remain on tiptoe. She moaned as her Dom slid the flat end of a crop between her thighs. When it tapped her shaved mound, her knees gave. She screamed and spasmed as her glistening pussy met hard wood.
The public dungeon catered to exhibitionists or displeased dominants intent on making examples out of their submissives. Then, of course, there were the inevitable collaring ceremonies. The musky scent of sex, tinged with whiffs of chocolate and alcohol, filled the room. The crack of whips, high-pitched moans, and low grunts combined into erotic background noise, the medley potent enough to serve as an aphrodisiac.
Naomi’s poor excuse of a skirt ended a few inches above the knees. Her cross-legged position exposed tantalizing expanses of toned, smooth skin. She sat with her spine curved, her long, slender fingers curled around the steaming mug. Her scarlet toenails dug into the plush carpet as she snuggled between two cushioned leather backrests. Given the charged surroundings, no sub in her right mind would appear so comfortable.
To add insult to injury, her current position broke the club’s protocol. As her Dom for the night, he hadn’t given her permission to drink, talk, or vacate the floor. She should be on her knees, waiting on his arrival.
He shook his head. This was Naomi. His Naomi. How the hell had she ended up at a place like the Carnivore Club?
His gaze drifted to the sign in front of the booth: Reserved. As far as he could tell, he’d neither had a break from reality nor stumbled into the wrong place.
She’d come to fuck a stranger. Her date happening to be him failed to blunt the blow.
The crackle of crumpling paper drew attention to the printout in his fisted hand. Having discovered the identity of his mysterious date, the limit list he’d ignored captured his interest. As he read through the items she’d marked prior experience, the vein on his temple started to pound. Her reason for not going out with him had been complete bullshit. She might be a lightweight, but she’d more than dabbled in the lifestyle.
“Not a sub, my ass.” His blinders shattering, he stared at her again. Believing her whopper of a lie in the first place boggled the mind. Her references had come from two different Dommes, both of whom had seemed to know Naomi socially, as well as professionally. When the gossip rags had shone a bright spotlight on his less-than-orthodox sex life, she hadn’t quit his employ. Come to think of it, she hadn’t batted an eyelash.
Stomping to the booth, he stood with his arms akimbo. The misbehaving dungeon monitor squeaked and sprang to her feat. He’d expected to scare her off with a glare, but the diminutive brunette stood her ground until he handed her the paper in his hand. The club wouldn’t have provided a filled-out questionnaire to anyone other than Naomi’s date.
After whispering something in her charge’s ear, the DM unclipped the leash, nabbed the reservation sign, and scampered off to skulk in a far corner.
To his surprise, Naomi shifted to kneel on the floor. She didn’t spread her legs as far as he would have liked, but the position change was accomplished with admirable grace. When she placed her hands on her thighs, palms facing forward, he lost any remaining doubt about her experience.
Someone had trained the lying sneak, at least enough to follow basic norms.
Circling her, he grazed his trousers along her bare arms and back. She shivered at the contact, her neck twisting as she tried to follow his path. When the silence stretched, she opened her mouth. Before a sound escaped, she pursed her lips, earning a brownie point. If she wanted to sit pretty tomorrow morning, she’d better stay on her best behavior.
Who was he kidding? The woman had some serious spanking coming her way.
Sitting behind her, he sandwiched her shoulders between his knees. Grabbing her long, thick braid, he wrapped the queue around his palm. With a hard yank, he craned her neck back so he could watch her face.
Her lower lip quivered, before jutting out in an inviting pout. A sheen of moisture coated her skin. He’d bet good money he’d find her pupils dilated if he yanked the blindfold off.
He pressed his fingers over her carotid, relishing her racing pulse. What Dom could resist such blatant arousal? He lowered his head.
When his breath grazed her skin, she jerked her chin to the side and struggled against his hold. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go through with this date. I came to tell you in person.”
He tightened his grip on her braid and pitched his voice low enough to mask his identity. “Why not?”
Her tongue darted to moisten the corner of her mouth
. The small motion sent an electric jolt to his balls.
He shifted to prevent his zipper from making a permanent indentation on his penis. “You’re turned on. Why stop?”
“I…I’m invol— I’ve got this weird situation going on with someone else.” Her voice shook. “Until I’ve sorted things out, I can’t play with anyone.”
The sickening rock at the pit of his stomach disappeared, leaving behind smug satisfaction. “What’s the lucky guy’s name.” He blew a hot breath on her darkening cheek.
She flinched. “None of your business.”
“True, but I call the shots. Who would you rather scene with tonight, Naomi?”
Her brows snapped together. “Luka?”
She lifted her arms. Before she could touch the black silk, he captured her wrists with one hand. Damn, he’d forgotten to remain incognito. Perhaps he could salvage the situation. “Who?”
“I recognize your voice,” she hissed. “Let me go right this instant and take the damn blindfold off.”
Dragging her up, he toppled her onto his lap. “Is that anyway to talk to your Dom?” Banding his arms around her torso, he plastered her back against his.
“The date’s finished. I’m leaving.” When she attempted to wiggle free, her ass churned over his boner. She froze. His growing erection must have alerted her to the dangerous side effect of her resistance.
“Not until I hear your safe word.” Turning her in his arms, he positioned her facedown on his thighs. “The cat’s out of the bag, sub. Congratulations, you’ve won the trifecta. I’m horny, curious, and pissed off. We’re starting this scene with some incentivized interrogation.”
“Like hell.” Despite her spitting protest, her spine arched. Her butt lifted high enough her skirt bunched around her waist, revealing utilitarian black panties. She hadn’t chosen underwear with sex on the agenda.
Good.
He yanked the cotton garment down to circle her knees. Trembling, she pounded her little fists on his calves. At the same time, her ass muscles tightened as if in anticipation of a blow. Talk about conflicting emotions.
He squeezed her butt, raking his blunt nails along her silky flesh to amp up the anticipation.
She hit him harder. “Stop it.”
“But you don’t want me to.” He slid his fingers between her shaved labia. “And you’re wet.”
“Luka. No.”
“The tone might work on Bear, but I am not a dog.” He slammed his palm onto her right thigh. “I don’t appreciate you keeping me on a leash for months.” His next spank landed on her other leg, the impact harder and louder because she’d swung it up. “You told me lie after lie.” He punished her subsequent kick with equal gusto. “And then you showed up at a BDSM club for a one-night stand with someone else.”
His following wallops landed on her butt, the impact covering her mahogany skin with a rusty tinge.
“Oww! I wasn’t going through with it.” She screeched. “I’d already decided to bail before you showed up.”
“Uh-huh.” He pinched her left butt cheek and twisted, provoking a string of curses. “Because you have feelings for me. Why would you tell a random guy what you should have admitted to my face?”
Grunting, she banged the heel of her fist on his toe. Thank God for thick leather. “I did admit it to you, asshole.”
He smacked her harder. “Careful, pet. You’re giving me all sorts of ideas on appropriate disciplinary measures.”
All movement ceased but for the clenching of her ass. “You wouldn’t.”
“What naughty sub checked ‘curious’ next to anal on her form?”
“But—”
“Since I’ve tendered it up”—he lobbed one last whack—“I get to play with your pretty little bum.”
She tensed. “Wait. You can’t. I’ve never—”
“I know. Which is why I’ll let the idea sink in. In the meantime….” He slid his hands between her thighs and cupped her. As she shifted toward his palm, he shoved his fingers inside her slick pussy. He fingered her nice and slow while using his free hand to wave over the dungeon monitor who’d vacated the booth not so long ago.
When she reached his side, he bared his teeth. “Bring tonight’s theme package.”
The woman’s jaw dropped. “Umm…. Are you sure?”
The way her gaze slanted downward suggested she hadn’t addressed the question to him.
When he glared at the unhelpful staff member, her round cheeks turned bright pink. Interesting. He’d never met a submissive DM.
“I also left my toy bag out front. Fetch it as well.”
With one last wide-eyed glance at Naomi’s abused behind, the woman scurried off.
Chapter Four
Why not use the safe word?
Naomi squirmed on Luka’s lap. Of course her shit luck would land him as her mystery date. Either fate had a twisted sense of humor or her friend had set them up. Her crush on her boss hadn’t been the world’s best-kept secret.
She should have recognized him sooner, Batman voice or no. After all, he smelled as he had when he’d kissed her this morning—cinnamon and spice, boosted by several doses of man.
He slid his finger into her again. Desperate for an anchor in a sightless world turned upside down, she bunched the leg of his trousers in her shaking hands. The paper-thin wool reminded her of the suit he’d worn on Friday, when he’d hurled her into his bedroom and fucked her brains out. The memory of him pounding between her thighs washed over her at the worst possible moment, drawing slick heat to ease his invasion.
Her ass burned, the pain thrumming her clit better than any vibrator. His hard thighs pressed into her belly, the constricting pressure skirting discomfort. He rested his palm at the base of her neck, exerting enough force to render her helpless.
And, with each stroke, he hurtled her further down the slope to a mind-blowing orgasm.
Fate had designed a potent trap. She couldn’t experience pleasure without surrendering control. Vanilla sex approximated the effect at times, but domination and submission games had a direct line to her vagina. As long as it didn’t go too far, a bit of pain, a hint of bondage, and a dose of exhibitionism created the perfect storm. Add the man of her dreams into the mix, and she might as well wave a white flag.
Punishment had heightened her senses, and the club’s sounds and smells gained new meaning. People had watched him spank her. They could see her bare ass and glimpse his hand disappearing between her thighs. Instead of compelling her to struggle, the realization gathered more moisture to aid his exploration. She writhed, her hips undulating as she sought his fingers. She wanted more.
She needed more.
He added a second digit, stretching her so much she yelped and tried to wiggle free. Significant movement beyond her power, her attempt to escape yielded a deeper impalement. Her inner muscles clenched, betraying her desire. Exasperated by the losing battle with her own body, she groaned.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” His husky voice compelled her to hit something. She aimed for his shoe and ended up banging her hand. Fuck.
She could always scream “red” and bring this night to a screeching halt. Yet she continued to dig her grave, for no reason she could divine. Tears of frustration dampened her blindfold as he vaulted her to the edge of pleasure. She couldn’t end this—no matter how many times her brain screamed in warning.
Caution had been losing the battle even before he’d caught her. She’d emptied her meager stockpile of resolve by walking away this morning. Facedown on his lap, she couldn’t muster the fortitude for a repeat performance.
He drew back and added yet another finger. His knuckles scraped her, the exquisite friction flashing crimson on the back of her eyelids. “Do you want to come?”
Suffering in silence, she nodded, the motion bumping her chin against his calf.
“Say the words.” He delved in and out of her with increasing boldness, his strokes slow, languorous, and maddening.
“Yes.” In this position, he held all the strings. She couldn’t touch herself, and the fit was too tight for her to ride his hand. “Please let me come.”
With a chuckle, he finger-fucked her hard and fast. Her abdomen knotted as each penetration rocketed her hunger to a fevered pitch. Her panting breaths echoed in her ears as he quickened his rhythm. Against his leg, her breasts seemed to swell. Her nipples pulsed, having hardened long before he’d started tormenting her.
Then he pulled out. The sudden emptiness forced a low, protesting whine past her throat. Her head and feet weighed her down as she struggled to fill her lungs. She couldn’t seem to compel any of her muscles to respond.
“Too bad. You have a lot of explaining to do first.” She whimpered when he pulled her panties back up. Her tender butt protested the scrape of cotton as he adjusted the soft garment.
His torso warmed her side as he leaned forward. His shirt sleeve brushed her shoulder.
Rustles and clinks followed on the heels of a zipper’s whirr.
Once he righted himself, he pulled her crotch band down and positioned a smooth, egg-shaped object between her labia.
When the elastic snapped back into place, the device turned on with a quiet hum, sending low vibrations to assail her clit. The stimulation wasn’t enough. It wasn’t close to enough.
He slapped her between the legs, and the blow hurtled her to the brink of ecstasy. But it failed to push her over, and the hypersensitive aftermath prompted her to grind her teeth. If he didn’t take the edge off soon, she’d go bonkers.
Pulling her up, he dropped her on her knees on the plush carpet. With a hard tug, her blindfold came off. Despite the dim light, she needed several blinks to acclimate. When she did, her entire body blazed. The dungeon monitor had left out a few salient details regarding this section of the club. Kim’s constant chatter and the steady stream of dessert had distracted her from the betraying sounds and smells.
He’d positioned her facing away from the booth. The public dungeon approximated a bar and lounge in the pure, technical sense of the description. Club staff served food and drink. Leather-covered love seats and armchairs dotted the area.