by Nina Pierce
She nodded and turned, leading them both out of the club and toward the main building. Tropical flowers and lush foliage lined the stone path, but neither competed with the heady scent of her or the stunning visual of her bare ass provocatively swaying with each step. Her wheat-colored braid nestled between delicate shoulder blades, but it was the ugly horror of his teeth marks at the curve of her neck that captured his attention. Guilt squeezed his heart. How much more would she have taken if Ethan hadn’t stopped him? Fear snaked up his back and lifted the fine hairs at his nape. How the hell hadn’t he sensed what Ethan had instinctively known when he’d burst into the bungalow? Derek forced his shoulders back, fighting against the disgrace and shame weighing on them.
The sun slipped below the horizon, the last vestiges of light swirling in pastel shades of pink and orange. In the east, the sliver of a moon hung in the ebony sky, pinpoints of stars spreading across its velvety darkness.
The evening breeze blew in over the ocean as they crossed the front of the main building. Sara was only vaguely aware of the people they passed. It wasn’t their open admiration she sought, but the power of the man walking beside her.
Every fiber of her being screamed to have Derek lead. Have him strip her bare and use her for his own pleasure. But he blamed himself for Ethan’s misunderstanding and now was unwilling to take his place as her Master. Sara had no doubt if her dear friend hadn’t burst in like a Neanderthal protecting his woman, that she would happily be bound in the dungeon at the Masters’ lodge, every muscle taut with the anticipation of Derek’s commands. Because, if the afternoon had proven anything to Sara, it was that she wanted more of Derek’s domination.
Now she was forced to implement a plan B and prove to Derek that trusting his instincts had healed a submissive’s very old and very raw wounds.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and Sara had all she could do to keep her feet steady on the path. Anticipation had been her constant companion as she’d taken over an hour to prepare herself for him.
A long soak in a hot tub of rose-scented oils and a sharp razor had smoothed every inch of skin. She’d washed her hair twice, straightening it until it glowed, and at the last minute deciding on the French braid currently bouncing against her back to keep it out of her way. Makeup covered the worst of the angry cut on her cheek and the bruises and scrapes on her body. The butter-soft corset, fishnet stockings and stiletto heels she’d slipped into before leaving the bungalow had been a splurge she’d brought from home, and from Derek’s hungry look back at the club—a total bargain.
Now, as they neared the Masters’ lodge, she could only hope she could convince Derek she was everything he needed. She stopped midway across the bridge overlooking the wraparound pool, the bondage equipment along its edge currently standing idle. She didn’t want to screw this up. Sara just couldn’t imagine leaving the island tomorrow without plans to see Derek again. She’d travel anywhere to be with him, if only he’d have her.
The symphony of insects blended seamlessly with the steady wash of the Atlantic in the distance, and she worked to slow her heart to its natural rhythm. It was a night meant for lovers. She hoped Derek felt the same. But when he stopped behind her, his body rigid, she wondered if she would be able to convince him he owed it to the BDSM community to keep working as a Dom, even if it wasn’t with her.
Leaning her elbows on the wooden railing of the arched bridge, Sara waited him out. It went against her nature to speak first.
“Sara, I never intended to let things get out of control this afternoon.”
“It takes time to learn the nuances of a stubborn submissive,” she replied without looking at him.
“I’ve been in a lot of dungeons and worked with many subs. I’m not a stupid man.”
“And I’m a big girl.”
“But I was the one who was supposed to be in control. I should have stopped when I sensed it was too much, not continue to press you past your comfort. Safe word or not, I should have known when to stop. I’m not sure why I didn’t.”
She turned to him, daring to look into his eyes. Even in the waning light of the evening, she could see what this confession was costing him. “Because I needed you to push past my defenses.”
“I hate to remind you, but subspace isn’t the place where rational thoughts reside. That was my call.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself.”
“I’m not being hard enough. I didn’t keep you safe. Period.” Anger laced through his words. “It’s the first job of any Dom. Care for your subs. Ethan has drilled that into my head. He had every right to be furious with my actions.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, not to hide her nakedness but to protect her heart. “Yes, well, Ethan tends to be a little overprotective where I’m concerned.” She paused, working to measure her words. Not all her secrets were hers alone. “Derek, there’s…a history between Ethan and me.”
“His love for you is obvious.”
She startled at his statement and then laughed, her hand absently falling on his biceps. “Like a brother, Derek. Trust me when I say there’s nothing romantic about our relationship.”
He furrowed his brow in confusion. Obviously he’d misinterpreted Ethan’s protectiveness.
“Ethan is the one who introduced my husband to me.”
Derek’s low whistle cut through the night. “No wonder he hovers like a mother hen.”
She laughed, despite herself. “Yeah, well, if you haven’t noticed, he hovers over all of his guests. I think that has more to do with his matchmaking skills. I swear, the man can’t find his own true love, but he sure is anxious for all his friends to find it.”
“I was pretty sure he set me up to find you at the lagoon this afternoon,” Derek said. “Of course he didn’t expect me to—”
“Stop.” Sara put her hand up between them, frustration making her voice unusually loud. “Please stop blaming yourself for Ethan’s overreaction. What you did, what we did together…” Her tone softened. “It was exactly what I needed. It’s exactly what I wanted for this weekend. Derek, I’ve been in therapy for two years, but nothing was going to completely heal me without coming here to XTC Resorts where it all began.”
“Which was the reason you went to the private lagoon today.”
“I needed to prove to myself that Marc doesn’t have any power over me anymore.” She inhaled deeply, finding strength in the spicy scent of his cologne. “But my therapist also told me that some aspects of my life with my late husband will never quite disappear and that it would be up to me to discover which cues will drop me right back into the nightmare.
“Being your submissive was freeing, Derek. Don’t you see that? I felt cherished and safe even as I relived my hell. There was healing in the telling.” She laid her hand in the center of Derek’s chest, his heart hammering beneath her palm. “The smell of leather before you bound me was like a drug, feeding my addiction. I won’t ever be able to get enough. But something you said triggered a reaction so deep I know I’ll never be able to let it go.”
Derek’s hand snaked up to hold hers, understanding sparking in the emerald pools of his eyes. “Beautiful.”
Even after all they’d been through, the word shivered down her spine and Sara had to work not to cower under its power. “Yes.” She worked to push the words past the acid burning in her throat. “Marc…he…he…”
“It’s okay, Sara, you don’t have to explain. I was wrong to push you so hard.”
“No, don’t say that.” Frustration rode on the words, making them unusually loud in the tranquility of the night. “You were right. It was all so right. I wouldn’t know I couldn’t handle it if you hadn’t tried. I would have told you if Ethan hadn’t barged in.” She pushed on, gathering courage from the heat of Derek’s body pressed against hers. “See, the thing is, it was Marc’s word. His subtle way of controlling me when we were in public. When he called me beautiful, it was when he found me the most loathsome. No amoun
t of groveling would stop the punishment I’d earned when he used that word. And it wasn’t sexual punishment but a retraining for whatever offense I’d committed. What Marc did to me was unconscionable. But the fact that I played a willing role is beyond insane.”
“Sara, now it’s your turn to stop. Marc is the only one who carries the blame here. It’s over and done. You’re free to be your own woman.”
“And I have you to thank for the gift of that freedom. He’s gone. Marc’s gone and there’s nothing but a gentle peace I haven’t known in years filling my heart.”
Derek’s hand, warm and firm, squeezed hers. “You did that. Not me.”
“Ethan told me you wouldn’t take credit.” Her other hand found its way to his stubbled cheek, her thumb caressing the hard knot in his jaw. “Derek, I trusted you to keep me safe even as the ghosts of my past came to life. I faced every terrible memory and found strength in your presence. There’s no way I could have done that alone.”
He released her hand and turned from her, casually leaning his elbows on the bridge and tucking his booted foot between the rails. “You weren’t safe with me, Sara. I pushed too hard. Even Ethan recognized that. If he hadn’t saved—”
“Ethan’s timing could not have been worse.” She studied the inky blackness of the pool below, swallowing her trepidation and praying she did this right. “We both had something to prove to ourselves this afternoon. Only it seems I was the only one who is willing to acknowledge it.”
Derek stiffened beside her. “What did Ethan tell you after I left the bungalow?”
“You know better than that.”
Derek nodded. They both knew Ethan would never betray the confidence of a friend. Regardless of what the resort manager knew about Derek’s fall from grace, Ethan would never breathe a word of it to another person.
“Am I so transparent?” he asked.
“I’m submissive, not deaf. You mentioned something about losing your job and being shunned by the BDSM community last night at the club. Whatever happened has rocked your belief in yourself.”
“Yeah, you could say that.” Restless, he turned, leaning his back against the railing, his face turned toward the stars. “I put a submissive in a degrading situation.”
“A rookie mistake, but not worthy of being ostracized. And how does that have anything to do with your job?”
“When the sub is the daughter of a very wealthy, very influential government official touring your father’s architectural firm it can be a colossal mistake. It seems daddies go a little ballistic when they walk into an associate’s office and find their daughter hogtied, blindfolded and sucking a man’s dick.”
Oops. “You stripped her naked and tied her up against her will?”
“Of course I didn’t.”
“Oh, so you shoved your cock in her mouth when she begged you to stop?”
Derek sighed, his head dropping. “Sara, I see where you’re going with this, but unlike what happened to you, this is my fault. She was humiliated in front of her father. My father lost city contracts that would have netted him millions. I didn’t keep her safe, bottom line.”
“Did it ever occur to you that the manipulative bitch could have been using you?”
“What?” For the first time this evening, his eyes met hers.
Sara turned to him, her breasts pressed against his warm biceps. She didn’t know the particular sub who had no doubt pulled an elaborate scheme to humiliate a controlling father, but she knew women. And sometimes it didn’t matter whose life a woman ruined as long as they got what you wanted. “Derek, I suspect if you look at the circumstances, I mean really go over every detail of how she ended up in your office in a compromising situation just coincidentally as her father saunters through the door, you’re going to discover it doesn’t quite add up.” She smiled. “We submissives aren’t blind to the fact of just how much power we wield over our Masters.”
His mouth worked, but nothing came out.
“And sometimes we just can’t help ourselves when the attraction burns in our hearts.” She dropped to her knees in front of him, her wrists clasped behind her back, her shoulders thrown back, prominently displaying breasts that ached for Derek’s hands. “I humbly ask my Master to take me to the dungeon at the Masters’ lodge and use me for your pleasure.” She kept her chin up, but her gaze locked on Derek’s boots. Her lungs burned with the nervous breath she held. She was sure her heart would never survive his rejection.
Chapter Seven
Derek walked in front of Sara, his heavy biker boots rapping out a steady tempo as they approached the Masters’ lodge. It was amazing he could even hear the beat over the sound of his heart throbbing in his ears. In a million years, he would not have believed this was where this night would end. But as he lifted the erotic brass knocker on the wooden door, his blood heated with the anticipation of having Sara bound and at the mercy of his pleasure.
Despite the blue jeans and button-down shirt Derek wore, his natural Dom persona had slipped into place the moment Sara dropped to her knees. He had only this night with her, and now that he’d made the decision to go through with it, he had every intention of making sure she would never forget him.
Impatience had him lifting the knocker again, but the heavy wooden door swung open before he could let it fall.
“I wasn’t sure how much longer to wait for you two.” Ethan stepped aside, allowing Derek and Sara entry into the spacious foyer. Sensual black marble statues sat in well-lit alcoves, surrounded by large potted plants, their thick foliage a stark contrast to the white walls and cathedral ceiling hanging with an elegant crystal chandelier. “The invitation read eight, my friends. Thirty minutes is considered fashionably late.” He leaned in conspiratorially. “But an hour certainly makes a statement, doesn’t it?”
“I always find it best not to carry excess baggage into the dungeon,” said Derek.
“A wise decision.” Ethan turned to Sara, who stood mutely behind Derek. “You look ravishing tonight, Sara.”
“Thank you, Master.”
Though Ethan and Sara were no more than friends, the hot spike of jealousy at the Dom’s frank appraisal and Sara’s flushed cheeks took Derek by surprise. He’d thought the afternoon had been about helping Sara, but the alluring submissive had revived something in him he hadn’t realized had been lying dormant all these months.
“My apologies for misunderstanding at the bungalow this afternoon, Derek.”
Derek took the hand Ethan offered and pulled him into a fierce hug. “Friendship and love can blind a man.”
“It seems Sara was the only one with her eyes wide open,” Ethan said.
Color flooded Sara’s cheeks as her full lips curled in a smile that stole his breath. “Any submissive would count herself fortunate to have two Masters who cared so much.”
“I’m the lucky one, Sara.” Derek brushed his hand possessively down her braid. Ethan cleared his throat. “The others were just headed down to the playroom. Shall we join them?” He turned and walked down a long hallway to their left. Derek invited Sara to walk between them, her confident submissive posture so different from the arrogant challenge she’d offered him last night or the apprehensive demeanor she’d displayed earlier in the afternoon.
The hall they walked had recessed lighting on their right, highlighting more carnal statues in black marble, each depicting a stunning scene of Master and slave. Through the wall of windows on their left, the manicured lawn and colorful garden, illuminated by tasteful landscaping lights, stretched out to the edge of the pool they’d seen from the bridge. The water rippled tranquilly in the tropical breeze, the moon’s glow shimmering along its ebony surface. All these details his architect’s eye picked up in seconds, but the male in him forced his focus back to Sara.
Five hours ago she’d been coming undone in his arms. Three hours ago Derek had been sure he’d done her irreparable harm. Shit, an hour ago he’d been ready to say goodbye. Now everything was changed. Their rel
ationship had found solid ground, both of them needing what only the other could give. A symbiotic push and pull that went down to the very marrow of who they were—a Master and his submissive.
“Here we are.” Ethan raised his arm and stepped back, offering Derek his first glimpse of the Masters’ dungeon.
The large room before him was a tasteful blending of modern architecture and old-world castle charm. The white walls had been accented with bricks and inlaid stone rising up to a vaulted ceiling that allowed Doms to suspend their submissives in elaborate systems of cages, pulleys and ropes. Wooden racks of floggers, whips and various tools were set back in recessed alcoves lit by decorative torch sconces that camouflaged modern lighting fixtures. Red leather couches for relaxing and viewing were interspersed with large pieces of bondage furniture, some of them already in use.
“Please make yourself comfortable in my home.” Ethan left them, joining a small group watching a naked sub being artfully bound in ropes. Derek would like to see Sara bound and suspended and completely at his mercy, but he didn’t have that kind of patience at the moment.
With his hand on her low back, Derek guided Sara into the room, pleased when several people stopped what they were doing to admire her, their eyes quietly seeking an invitation to join them. Derek had no intention of extending it. If he only had one last night with her, even in this public dungeon, this night would be about only them.
He stopped in the center of the room, a simple bondage frame before them. “Sara, I intend to bind you and use your body for my pleasure tonight. Remove your corset and thong, but can the stockings remain?”
“Yes, Master. They’re held up with a garter belt beneath the corset.”
Christ, Sara was a fucking wet dream in the flesh. Derek had all he could do to remain focused as blood pooled in his groin. “Very well, the garter, heels, collar and nipple jewelry remain. I’m going to find some equipment we both can enjoy. When I return, I want the rest of your clothes gone and you standing spread eagle, displayed for everyone’s admiration.”