The Choice (Doms of Her Life: Heavenly Rising Book 1)

by Shayla Black

  “Who says I’m teasing?” He gave her a disreputable grin.

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Favorite band?”

  “I’m an old-school grunge guy. Give me Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Stone Temple Pilots…that kind of thing. But I listen to all kinds of music. Who do you like?”

  “Maroon 5. Adam Levine—”

  “Sings like a girl?”

  She swatted his arm across the table. “Is incredibly talented and sexy.”

  Beck scoffed. “You think?”

  “He has some really amazing ink.”

  Beck pulled the sleeve of his shirt over his elbow to reveal something tribal around his bulging bicep. “Like this?”

  “You…” Heavenly stared, trying to string her words together. Never in a thousand years had she imagined the good doctor would have tattoos. “I’m surprised.”

  “A lot of things about me might surprise you.” That grin of his nearly combusted her. Sly, brimming with knowledge, slightly dirty.

  “Like what?”

  “I’ve shocked you enough for one day.” He leaned closer, over his forgotten dessert. “But let’s just say my arms aren’t the only place I’m inked.”

  She opened her mouth, but the waiter came by with a refill of his coffee.

  Beck glanced at his watch. “It’s a little before nine. If we don’t leave this joint, we won’t catch the fireworks.”

  After he paid the bill, she followed him through the darkness as they finally explored the castle. She squealed with delight when he bought her a pair of princess mouse ears, embroidered with her name. They made it just in time to slide into a VIP area to view the fireworks near the castle before the first song cued and the first bright bursts of color lit the sky. They stood close, and she was absolutely spellbound as the pyrotechnics show exceeded her wildest dreams.

  With her stare riveted to every dazzling explosion across the sky, tears of happiness slid down her cheeks. Beck traced a finger across her face, capturing a stray tear and tasting it. She shivered, suddenly unable to look at anything but him. He said nothing. No words were necessary. Something magical was happening that terrified her yet lured her even closer.

  “A-are you going to kiss me?” she finally whispered.

  “When we’re alone.” He caressed her face with his warm palm. “But not now. It’s worth waiting and doing right.”

  Then the last of the fireworks burst with a sweeping crescendo of music, and the moment passed.

  It was time to head home.

  Beck took her hand in his again and led her to his car. He wasn’t terribly happy when she asked him to drop her off at the mall where he’d picked her up, but thankfully he didn’t argue.

  Today had truly been the best day of her life…so far. If she could believe him, the best might be yet to come.

  The following Saturday evening, Beck pulled up to the art gallery, took a deep breath, and headed in to find Heavenly. Their date at Disneyland had been strictly vanilla, but she’d loved every minute—and he’d loved every one of her squeals and smiles.

  Now that he knew they were compatible away from the hospital, he was anxious to test their chemistry on a much different level.

  Tonight was make or break.

  Unfortunately, it hadn’t started well. He’d planned to pick her up, wine and dine her while he asked her questions and dropped hints. Then together, they’d view the show. But she’d insisted on meeting him at the art gallery. Errands or some shit. Her promise to wait for him in the adjacent bar hadn’t eased his gnawing anxiety. If she’d already peeked at the exhibit…he’d have a lot of explaining to do.

  Thankfully, he spied her sitting on a stool, as promised, her cascade of golden hair and feminine grace unmistakable. Black strappy sandals adorned her feet, now delicately crossed at the ankle. Visually, he caressed his way up her slender legs, settling long moments later on the sensual curve of her ass, hugged by a classic black sheath.

  She was always beautiful, but tonight? Fuck me.

  A hundred times Beck had asked himself if he should skip this risky experiment and simply get her alone. A hundred times he’d told himself no. This wasn’t about a quick lay; it would tell him what kind of future he and Heavenly might share. If tonight didn’t go as he hoped… Well, they could still be friends.

  Fuck, that sounded horrible.

  Easing closer, he stole a clandestine moment to inhale her sultry, hint-of-berry scent and fought the urge to bury his nose in her silky hair. “Why are you sitting alone, little girl? Did some jerk stand you up? Come with me instead. There are things I could show you…”

  Heavenly turned, a smirk playing at her lips. “I can’t. I’m waiting for a handsome doctor. If I’m not where he asked me to meet him, I might be in trouble.”

  Submissiveness and role play? Hell yes.

  He motioned to the bartender to replace her water with a smooth, imported Sauvignon Blanc. Moments later, the man set a slender stem on a fresh napkin directly in front of her.

  Beck paid and tried to cool himself with a swallow of beer. “Well, the doctor is one lucky son of a bitch. He’s also an idiot for making you wait. If I had the chance to spend the evening with such a gorgeous little girl, I wouldn’t leave you alone for a second.”

  “Oh, he’s not late. I’m a bit early.” Heavenly leaned around him, scanning the room. “I expect him any minute.”

  “Well, until he shows, I insist you join me. For your safety.”

  “My safety?” She blinked at him.

  “We wouldn’t want some lowlife off the street snatching you from that barstool, right?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then let me take care of you.” About that, he wasn’t joking.

  “All right.” As Heavenly eased to her feet, she plucked a tiny black clutch off the bar, lifted her wineglass, and flashed him a mysterious glance. “I’ve never had a bodyguard before.”

  If I had my way, you’d need more than a bodyguard to keep me from stripping you bare and ravishing you in a million wicked ways.

  Somehow, Beck managed to simply smile and palm the small of her back. He guided her across the marble floors, where they joined the waiting crowd. Palpable excitement churned the air.

  Heavenly clung to his side with an eager smile. She wouldn’t appreciate everything she saw, but he’d watch her, cataloging even her subtlest reactions until he knew how—or if—he should proceed.

  “I’ve never been to an art gallery,” she whispered with a nervous hitch.

  “Then we’re both in for a special treat.”

  “You’ve never been to one, either?”

  He shook his head, chuckling softly. “I have, but I’m especially looking forward to tonight’s show. A private buyer loaned his rare collection of Joshua Lars’s sculptures for this exhibit.”

  “I’ve never heard of Joshua Lars.”

  “He’s amazing. Seeing his work in person will be a real treat. Shame he hasn’t unveiled any new works for years.”

  “What does he sculpt?”

  “People, mostly women. Tonight’s theme is, um…alternative lifestyle art.”

  He didn’t say more; she had to experience the show for herself. And he needed her unvarnished reactions.

  “What does that mean?”

  Sighing, he pulled her into a secluded corner and cupped her shoulders. “What you see tonight may confuse, shock, or excite you. Any of those reactions is valid. Just…approach everything with an open mind. Give me your opinions. Ask questions. I’ll explain if I can. Will you do that for me?”

  “Of course.”

  Naturally, she wanted to please, and it was easy to give her assent now. Keeping her promise would be much harder once she got inside.

  He guided her back to the entrance and handed over their tickets. Anticipation and disquiet thrummed through his veins as they stepped into the wide space of concrete floors, industrial ceilings, and white walls.

  A surgically stacked brunette in form-hugging r
ed latex welcomed them, balancing a tray of champagne flutes on her palm. Black leather cuffs hugged each wrist. A thick collar squeezed her neck with an engraved plate that proclaimed her PROPERTY.

  Beside him, Heavenly cocked her head, looking puzzled. Damn, he’d pay money to hear her thoughts. But he couldn’t push her. He had to let her process.

  Beck thanked the submissive greeter, who deferentially dipped her gaze before ushering Heavenly farther into the room. Now, everything would get real. His nerves buzzed as the soft chatter around them hummed.

  He stepped in front of the first painting, guiding her toward the unframed canvas of a naked woman lying on her side facing forward, hands tied behind her back, head lolling to the ground in tormented anticipation. Ropes framed her breasts and looped around her neck. Her legs were spread and trussed to remain bent, binds encircling thigh and shin.

  The piece was stunning. Picturing Heavenly waiting for him in this pose revved his libido hard.

  Clearing his throat, Beck studied her as she glimpsed the light-and-shadow masterpiece. The startled blink of her lashes preceded the wide flare of her eyes. An instant later, color rosied her cheeks. Then her lips parted, and her berry-pink tongue flicked against her upper lip. Thoughts clearly raced through her brain as she dragged her gaze toward him, as if reluctant to take her eyes off the erotic piece.

  “Wow.”

  “Yes. What else?”

  “I, um… It’s striking. She’s anatomically correct and really flexible.”

  Beck repressed a grin. “How does the painting make you feel?”

  She squirmed as she gathered her words. His cock jerked.

  “Will this exhibit be all about naked people?”

  “Answer my question. Then I’ll answer yours.”

  Turning back to the canvas, she stared, a little furrow between her brows. “Helpless. But not in a bad way. She looks at peace. It’s oddly…pretty. Does that make sense?”

  Absolutely. And he’d bet Heavenly was at least vaguely aroused and didn’t understand why.

  Beck did—and his blood roared. “Of course. Art is not only beautiful, it’s designed to make you feel something, to stir the imagination. It’s a personal journey for whomever views it.”

  She nodded absently, still staring at the painting as if trying to understand her reaction. “Now you’ll answer my question?”

  She’d soon discover he always kept his word. “Because it’s an exhibit of erotic works that focus primarily on alternative sexual lifestyle, I’m expecting a lot of nudity, yes.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Her blush deepened. “Do you, um…think she posed like this for the artist or did he paint her from his imagination?”

  Beck slid a finger beneath her chin. “Good question. As lifelike as that is—look at the sweat beading her brow and the quiver of her thighs—I’d guess she posed.”

  She gave him a shaky nod, biting her lower lip as she stared again at the piece in fascination, nervously sipping her vino.

  So that was a yes to attempting bondage.

  Somehow, he managed not to seize her lips and rip off her dress. “Ready to move on?”

  She nodded, and together they wandered to the next piece, this one a photograph of a pale woman standing alone against a dark wall, wearing stilettos, a collar—and nothing else. Her limbs were chained at wrists and ankles, stretched wide apart toward the edges of the frame. She’d tossed her head back as her body gave way to her bindings.

  Beck turned to find Heavenly studying the photo. He could all but hear her wheels turning. “What’s going on in that gorgeous head, little girl?”

  She glanced at him, worrying her lip. “I don’t get it. Why is she wearing a dog collar? And why is she strung up like that? I would think she’s a victim of something terrible, except…”

  “Go on. Except what?”

  “She seems to like it.”

  Of course. She was floating blissfully in subspace. “She’s euphoric.”

  “That doesn’t make sense to me. How could she enjoy someone degrading her?”

  “Why do you assume someone is degrading her?”

  Heavenly was slower to answer this time. “Well, first, someone tied her up and left her.”

  “How do you know she doesn’t find pleasure or comfort in being bound?”

  “You mean like being tightly swaddled soothes a baby?”

  “That’s a good analogy, yes. It may not make sense to us, but to her the chains may provide serenity.”

  “Okay, but he left her exposed, almost like…”

  “He wanted to stare at her as if she were a work of art?”

  Heavenly chewed on her lip, but Beck noticed she didn’t question why a woman would want her lover to enjoy the view of her body.

  “Why the dog collar?” she asked instead.

  “Why do most owners put a collar on their pet?”

  “To decorate them. To signify ownership.”

  “Exactly. And in her case, someone who holds her dear understands her desire to be owned, bound, and visually worshipped.” Beck gave her something else to consider. “Sex is no different than any other primal need. Everyone has varying taste. This exhibit is merely an expression of each artist’s individual preference. Do you like this image?”

  “It’s unusual.”

  “It’s not something most people see every day.”

  “Or ever. I-I mean, I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  She must not Google much. Beck kept the smartass observation to himself.

  “Understood, but art challenges us to consider, maybe even tackle our preconceived notions. Sometimes, it disarms us with unexpected reactions.” He tried to shrug casually. “Some might view this and find themselves repulsed. Others might wish they were in her place.”

  She nodded, still mulling as she imbibed more wine. “What do you think?”

  “The peace in her posture is beautiful. Tell me what seeing this makes you feel.”

  It took her a moment to answer. “I don’t know how I’d feel about being so…on display.”

  “Being naked makes you self-conscious?”

  She pondered that question with a cock of her head. “I’m not ashamed of my body, but…no one has ever seen me naked.”

  Her answer gave him hope. “So you’re apprehensive but not repulsed.”

  “Something like that.”

  He’d get her damn used to being naked around him, but he’d also assure her she’d never have to be “on display” for anyone else.

  She shot him a suspicious frown. “How do you know so much about this stuff?”

  Beck had wondered how long it would take her to ask. “Well, as a medical professional, I’ve encountered some interesting things over the years.”

  “I want to experience life.” She sighed and shook her head. “I mean really experience it.”

  “And you should.”

  Together, they moved to the next piece. The oil painting was a close-up of a woman’s profile, lips red, a blurred hint of her arms strung up above her head in the background. Her Dom had attached a clothespin to her wayward tongue.

  Beck bit back a chuckle. He’d used this punishment on a few unruly subs.

  On his left, Heavenly’s brows slashed down in confusion. “I guess someone really doesn’t want her talking.”

  “Clearly, she’s said enough.”

  Heavenly wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think I’d like this at all.”

  “I doubt that woman does, either.”

  “So some people like to be bound but none want to be silenced. If that’s true, why do this?” She gestured to the painting. “It seems like a punishment a parent might have given their child for swearing or lying once upon a time.”

  “You’re not far off. Think about it… Sometimes, even adults have to be corrected. Granted, this may seem like an extreme way to get one’s point across, but do you think she’ll forget the lesson anytime soon?”

  Heavenly shook her head. “If someone
ever did that to me, I’d want a warning that I was saying too much before he felt compelled to hunt up a clothespin.”

  Duly noted, little girl. I’ll be more than happy to keep your sexy ass in line.

  He reached for her hand, leading her around the freestanding wall to the feature on the other side. Front and center, a bright splash of a photo greeted them—this one of a sub’s freshly whipped ass. Some blows on her hip were deep enough to have drawn blood. A red drop ran down her pale thigh, contrasting artistically with the almost innocent yellow-flowered shirt that brushed the edges of her welts.

  Imagining his marks on Heavenly’s untouched ass roused the sadist in Beck and pushed his desire nearly to the edge of his control.

  Beside him, she gasped and recoiled, burying her face in his shoulder. “Why would anyone do that to her? It’s savage and cruel.”

  How did he explain that this Dom had lined his sub methodically, giving her a beautiful endorphin high while pushing her to her pain threshold?

  “Several of the mediums on display depict various aspects of the BDSM lifestyle. Do you know what that is?”

  Heavenly shook her head. “I’ve heard the term before but…”

  “Bondage, Dominance, submission, masochism. It contains elements of discipline and sadism, among other things.”

  She dragged in a breath. “Did you bring me here because you like this stuff?”

  He should have known she was too clever not to catch on. “I brought you here to view the art, to open your mind. I find it intriguing.”

  “You’re not turned off by…that?” She pointed to the photo.

  Right now, whipping was clearly a hard no for her, and that made him want to howl. On the other hand, a good Dom’s job was to push his sub’s limits to help her find her truest submission. Maybe in time…

  But maybe not. If he wanted her for his own, he might have to live without wielding a whip.

  “I find a unique beauty in it. But remember, I’m a physician, so I know she’ll heal up fine in a few days.”

  “But whoever did this to her is abusing her.”

  Beck gave a sharp shake of his head. “My understanding of the lifestyle is that the people who practice it do so willingly. She always has the power to say no.”