by Dakota Trace
She stopped in front of it, her fingers curling up against her palms. The small plaque read, Peace in His Embrace. The name fit. The kneeling woman knelt between her Dom’s spread thighs, her head resting against his knee and his fingers buried in her hair. The peaceful expression carved within the ice of both partners was nothing short of awe-inspiring.
That’s what I want. To be so free nothing matters but him. No expectations, no disapproving looks…nothing but the peace that comes from knowing I’m safe and loved in his embrace.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Seba’s arm slid around her waist.
She nodded, unable to express how much she needed what the artist had captured in ice.
“It’s what every Dom strives for. Nothing is more rewarding than knowing we’ve pushed our submissive outside herself, until she gives us everything she is.” He pulled her back against him, and she savored the feel of his strong arms holding her to his chest. “And before the night is over, you will experience it—at my hands.”
She drew a ragged breath. “I hope so, Sir.”
Chapter Five
Over the next ninety minutes, Seba’s promise rang in her ears. She couldn’t forget the dark assurance in his voice, the solid feel of his body against hers, when he swore to give her what she needed. It didn’t help every time his eyes met hers, she could see how much he wanted her at his mercy. Those fleeting touches weren’t sufficient. She had a compulsion to be dominated—to prove she could, with her complete submission, give him whatever he needed.
But I have to wait. It’s not time yet.
As she nibbled on finger sandwiches and petit fours, the music grew softer and the dancers began to dissipate. Soon the food was cleared away, until only the flowing fountains in the centers of the tables remained. A short time later, she noticed the wait staff had been replaced by dungeon monitors, whose gold corsets or vests over black leathers stood out in the crush of costumed patrons. The lights began to dim as two panels of the ceiling parted. Moonlight spilled down over the fountains, making them sparkle.
“My god.” She gripped Seba’s arm for balance while staring up at the gorgeous night sky. “How beautiful. I never expected there to be a skylight.”
“Me either.”
When she glanced over at him, she caught a glimpse of movement. Two muscular dungeon monitors carried in a pair of small desks. The room grew quiet when they placed them at either side of the sensual ice sculpture that had captivated her longing earlier.
“Must almost be time for the after party to start.” Seba nuzzled the top of her head. “Thank God. Please tell me you’ve decided to stay. I don’t think I can wait any longer to play with this delicate body. You don’t know how much—”
A buzz filled the room when a dark-haired man clad in black leathers, a studded harness crossed over his chest, and a floor-length black and red cloak, pushed through the crowd. Holding his hand, an ethereal blonde woman in a sheer white peignoir over a delicate lace halter and boy shorts, trailed after him.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the grand opening of the Devil’s Playground. I am your host for the evening, Asmodeus. As the Demon of Lust, appointed by the owners, my love and I have many treats in store for you.”
Laughter erupted from the guests. Even Seba hooted. Obviously, everyone was ready to play.
“In fact, I do believe I will allow sweet Sarah to tell you more about our themed rooms. Just remember she’s mine. If you have any nefarious intentions, I shall remind you it didn’t end well for her past bridegrooms. The Demon of Lust keeps what is his.”
Sarah rolled her eyes at his antics. “As my lord and master suggests, it will be my pleasure to tell you about the many accommodations awaiting your pleasure. Located through the various archways encircling the ballroom, each suite has its own private changing area and bathroom. These play areas can be reserved by the hour. Shortly, there will be DMs stationed at each archway.” She rubbed her hand up and down Asmodeus’s leather gauntlet. “I know I’m hoping Master will take me to the Medieval Torture Chamber.”
Several people snickered.
“While there is a time limitation on the themed rooms, the main event of our night will be the opening of the Devil’s Playground. Our newest dungeon has been designed for those who love to watch—and be watched. In a few minutes, DM’s will man the desks behind me. Those who are submissive will register at the desk under the white curtain, while those who are dominant shall be directed to the black side. Please make sure you have your checklist available to register.”
Akira cocked her head, looking over at the desks. She understood about registering—after all, the club needed to protect both itself and its patrons—but where the hell was the playground? Behind the men, black and white drapes framed an archway leading to a solid stone wall. She didn’t see any openings. Seba nudged her forward. She flushed and whispered a sorry in his general direction. Leave it to her to be distracted by the mundane.
“The developers wanted a unique BDSM resort.” Asmodeus made a wide gesture with one arm. “As you have noticed when you came in this evening, there are mineral springs, natural lighting, and in the early evening, we have a slight breeze which blows through, cooling not only the ballroom, but the other buildings as well. Above ground, the resort is an oasis, but below ground, it is entirely something else. Devil’s Playground is a dungeon built into the side of an abandoned silver mine, forty feet underground, and, within the half hour, will be at your disposal. Everything needed to meet your darkest desires will be made available.”
My darkest desires? Akira muffled her moan when images of long coiled whips, nipple clamps, and butt plugs filled her mind.
“Is there a problem, Mey-rin?” Seba wrapped a strong arm around her waist.
She shook her head, uncertain how to tell him the idea of baring her darkest desires in a dungeon buried beneath the earth felt liberating. Torn by her need to be honest and his touch, the rest of Asmodeus’s speech barely registered.
“If an issue arises, find one of the dungeon monitors. While we want you to enjoy yourselves, we expect our club rules to be followed.” He paused. “Other than that, have fun. Spank some ass and enjoy.”
A low murmur of excited voices reached her ears as the crowd drifted in various directions.
Seba leaned closer, his body sheltering hers. “So what will it be, my sweet maid? A themed room, or will you take the chance and join me in the Devil’s Playground?”
She chewed on her lower lip then ducked her head. “The Playground, Sir.”
“Very good, Mey-rin.” He tipped her head up and gently ran his finger down her cheek then over the spot pulsing under the skin of her throat. “Lose everything, but the glasses.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Sir?”
“In the changing room, you’ll find a robe. I want you bare under it.” He brushed his thumb over her lips. “Naked—except for the glasses.”
She swallowed hard. “Of course, Sir.”
***
Waiting at the end of the line, Seba struggled with the urge to push the other dominants aside. Several feet away, at the head of her own line, Mey-rin stepped up to the desk. He kept a close eye on her when she handed over her checklist then signed another electronic tablet. Against the zipper of his well-tailored butler’s pants, his cock throbbed. He couldn’t wait to have his luscious little maid strapped to either a cross or a bondage bed. To experience her cries of pleasure, as he used his favorite Gorean slave whip to pinken her creamy skin. It’d been so long since he’d had a willing submissive under his lash.
Since Akira.
He clenched his jaw, forcing thoughts of his last sub from his mind. He was here with Mey-rin. He shouldn’t be thinking of another, especially when his date could give him what Akira had been unable to. When he stepped forward, Mey-rin skirted the table. A loud creak reached his ears, followed by a low groan of stone against stone. What he’d assumed to be a solid wall turned out to be
the gateway to a tunnel. Akira slipped into the darkness. Before he could blink, the stone wall returned to its former position.
In front of him, a man dressed like the Phantom of the Opera whistled. “Damn, they’re doing this to the hilt. Would you ever have guessed those walls were actual doors?”
Seba shook his head. “No. But nothing about this place has been what I suspected when I RSVP’d.”
The Phantom arched a brow at him. “You mean when Madame Eve arranged it, right?”
A chuckle escaped Seba. “You got me there. Let me guess, you’ve used her services in the past?”
“Guilty. She paired me with my late wife, many years ago.” The Phantom rolled his shoulders. A wave of melancholy seemed to pour off him. “It worked out so well, when our daughter threatened to hook me up with some dating site online, I told her I already had the perfect matchmaker. I contacted Madame Eve the very next day. I’m hoping she’ll be able to work her magic a second time.”
Seba scanned the immediate area. No one woman stood out as the love interest of the tortured Eric. “So your Christine is here somewhere?”
Hope filled his gaze. “I can only hope. Madame Eve assured me, I’d find her below.”
“You’re a more trusting soul than I. To go into a playroom filled with couples?” He shook his head. “I don’t think I could do it. Ever since I un-collared my last sub, I’ve found it difficult to be around other couples—even in a play setting. Fortunately for me, I shared a limo ride with my date.”
“So you got a jump start. I hope you’ve used it well.” Eric pulled out a folded piece of paper. “All I have is this, and a vague promise of finding a dark-haired woman with a fair-skinned friend.” He smoothed his fingers along the well-worn creases. It was almost as if he’d opened and folded the checklist several times.
“Well, I’m sure Madame Eve won’t steer you wrong this time, either.” He followed Eric when the line moved forward. “How long were you with your wife, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Sometimes it seems like forever, and other times not long enough.” A rueful look crossed Eric’s face—or what Seba could tell of it with the traditional white mask hiding half of the man’s features. “Lord knows I loved her, even if I didn’t always understand her.” He looked up at Seba. “Want a friendly piece of advice? If your date isn’t quite what she seems…don’t let go. Don’t give up. Hold her tight.”
Before he could fathom what Eric meant by the cryptic words, they arrived at the front of the line. The Phantom turned and gave over his checklist. The DM studied it before handing it back. A quick scrawl on the tablet and Eric skirted the desk and strode through the now open door.
“Your checklist, sir?” The DM held his hand out.
After signing another waiver, Seba entered the dark tunnel lit by nothing more than torches hanging from stone holders. He walked carefully down the slanted hall until he came upon a well-lit plaque engraved with the word Dominants hanging next to a heavy oak door. Pushing against the thick surface, he slipped inside, expecting to be blinded by the light, but instead found a softly lit lounge. Overstuffed leather chairs positioned in a semicircle around the room welcomed a dominant to sit and rest, while the squat wooden tables separating them offered a place for their drinks. Several other Doms sat conversing about their plans for the evening. Behind them, a brighter light drew his attention. Another entryway led to a long bank of lockers, where he’d been assured his toy bag awaited him safe and sound, along with a change of clothing. While he’d loved roleplaying as Sebastian Michaelis, he was more than ready to don his leathers and once more be Master Seba. He needed to prove to himself Akira hadn’t damaged him beyond repair.
It took him less than three minutes to find his locker. Placing the key in the lock, he opened it to find the familiar bag hanging from one side of the double hook. On the other hung a pair of leathers. Lifting them free, he looked for the tag. In the past, he’d had a bitch of a time finding a set that fit right. They usually had to be custom ordered. However, instead of a tag, he found, pinned to the waistband, another note from Madame Eve.
If you’ve come this far, I do hope you’ll go a bit farther, my dear boy. Remember, a heart must be open to receive.
– Madame Eve
What was it with everyone telling or reminding him to cherish or be open to all the possibilities? Did they know something he didn’t? Well, other than the identity of his date? Deciding it didn’t matter, he shed his costume and slipped into his leathers. A perfect fit. He should’ve expected nothing less, considering the high quality of the costume Madame Eve had sent him. Shutting the locker, he locked it. He’d need his costume later because he’d be damned if he left the club to go back to the hotel in nothing more than a set of tight leathers. Not with a crazy sci-fi convention going on. His luck, he’d get stuck in the elevator with a bunch of horny ewoks or something.
Taking a quick glance in one of the full-length mirrors at the end of the lockers, he grabbed his bag from the bench, hefted it over his shoulder, and left the changing room. The need to play rode him hard as he stalked down the ramp toward the Devil’s Playground.
The moment he passed through the entry, hard-driving rock music hit him. At the same time, he spotted a slender, ivory-skinned woman wearing nothing more than a transparent peach-colored robe. She stood with her back to him next to the DM station a few yards away.
Akira.
Only one woman sported the gorgeous tattoo he’d traced with both his whip and tongue. When she shrugged at whatever the DM told her, the muscle along her shoulder flexed, causing the petite hummingbird to dip its beak into the lush lotus flower. His dick hardened at the tantalizing sight, even as anger spiked through him.
Akira! What the hell is she doing here?
Forgetting all about his waiting playmate, Seba stalked across the room, ready to give Akira a piece of his mind. How dare she interrupt his date? But before he’d covered the distance between them, she turned to face him. He froze in shock. Perching on her slightly upturned nose were Mey-rin’s opaque glasses. Suddenly, the reasoning behind the note made sense, even if he had no intention of accepting the matchmaker’s advice.
Then Mey-rin…or, rather, Akira spotted him. Her lips slowly parted then drew up into a gorgeous smile. The skin at the corner of her eyes crinkled as she took a step toward him. Her happiness at seeing him seemed to spread until it engulfed her petite frame. He swallowed hard, torn between leaving and demanding a full refund from the elusive Madame Eve, and staying and taking what Akira offered—until he fucked her out of his system. But before he could decide on which course of action to take, his former submissive came to a stop in front of him and sank to her knees, head bowed.
“I offer my body to you willingly, Sir. To whip or fuck. I am at your service. I only wish to please you.”
A low growl built in him. She’d pressed every one of his erotic buttons with her words. An offer she had made many times in the past, but always failed to follow through on.
“Look at me, kotori.” The endearment rolled off his tongue.
At his feet, she stiffened. But it no longer mattered. She’d seen his face, knew his identity, what he was capable of, and had still offered herself. When she lifted her head, he took the glasses off, confirming his suspicion. Her beautiful golden-brown eyes stared up at him, the longing in their depths familiar.
“There will be no way out this time. At least, not tonight. You will submit because I will accept nothing less than a total sacrifice on your part. Do you understand?”
Chapter Six
Akira wondered if she should be worried. Heated desire mixed with anger in his eyes. He wanted her despite his anger about her deception. Because she lied or because he hadn’t expected her to be his date? She didn’t care. She’d have to work past either or both before the night was through.
“I asked you a question, Akira. I expect an answer.” Ice dripped from his words.
She ran her tongue over h
er lower lip. “Complete submission, total sacrifice, Sensei.”
His eyes narrowed in irritation at her address, he drove his fingers into her burgundy hair jerking her head back.
She winced at the sting, but accepted it as her due. In the limo, he’d warned her about the honorific. About how she had hidden behind it in the past, and how he wouldn’t tolerate her using it tonight.
“What did you call me?” His sharp tone raked over her.
“Old habits die hard…Sir. I’ll strive to remember. Things will be different this time.”
“Damn right they will be. You want to know why?” He leaned in until his nose was inches from hers. “Because the next time it comes out of your mouth, it will halt everything. We’ll be done.” He smirked. “Think of it is as your new safeword.”
Akira’s heart pounded in her ears. He’d stripped away her last shield. She was vulnerable in a way she’d never been before. Like a child whose parent had taken away her security blanket for her own good. Like said child, she wanted to plead with him to give it back. But the firm set of his lips and heavy lowering of his brows told her no plea would change his mind. Would she accept the inevitable, or walk away?
I’m not walking away.
“Sensei it is, Sir.”
His hold on her hair loosened, and he stepped back. “Good.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I want you up there.”
Her knees wobbled. A St. Andrew’s Cross on an elevated dais dominated the center of the room. The dark wood gleamed in the flickering light from the torches situated on the walls.
“You’re going to strip off your robe and climb the dais. Then you will stand at ease in front of the cross. Understand?”