BDSM Connections - The Complete 4 Novel Series

by Claire Thompson

  Romance Unbound Publishing

  BDSM Connections Series – Complete set

  Book 1 – Secrets

  Book 2 – Surrender to Me

  Book 3 – Claimed by Two Masters

  Book 4 – The Gypsy & the Rogue

  Claire Thompson

  Edited by Donna Fisk & Jae Ashley

  Cover Art by Mayhem Cover Creations

  Fine Line Edit by Garbiella Wolek

  Copyright 2018 Claire Thompson

  All Rights Reserved

  Get Three FREE Hot Reads!

  Secrets

  Secrets protect… They also destroy…

  Allie turns precious metals and stone into intricate jewelry—too bad she can’t work the same alchemy on her sex life. But a closely held secret keeps her from finding a Dom willing to take her where she longs to go… until she meets Liam, whose darkly compelling nature speaks directly to her submissive heart.

  Liam writes engaging grant proposals all day, but can’t seem to create the same connection with a true submissive in his life. Though the online spark with Allie is instant and intense, Liam has a damaging secret of his own that forces him to hold the world, including Allie, at arm’s length.

  As their D/s exploration intensifies, Liam and Allie must confront their fears. Will their newly forged bond be strong enough to survive their secrets?

  Chapter 1

  The rope around Allie’s wrists was tight, her arms pulled taut and secured to the headboard. His hard body covered hers, his cock pummeling insistently inside her. The foreplay had been, if not quite as intense as she liked, certainly spicy, with plenty of spanking, nipple torture, clit teasing and even a good, thuddy flogging.

  He had almost, though not quite, sent her flying as the whip licked and kissed her skin, the intensity increasing as he got more and more excited. Yes, yes, yes, yes, she’d silently shouted as the pain edged in that magical way toward something powerful and sublime. Allie had only experienced that kind of pure, ecstatic release that comes from handling, overcoming and finally embracing erotic pain once or twice in the scene, but it had been enough to keep her coming back for more.

  He’d quit just before the miracle, though he’d seemed entirely unaware of what he’d done, or rather, failed to do, and Allie hadn’t told him. In her mind, if you had to tell them, then the connection wasn’t there, no matter how much you wished it could be.

  “I own you.” He thrust hard inside her. She shifted, trying to find a better angle. He took that as a positive sign. “Yeah, that’s it, I’m going to make you come so hard, babe. You belong to me. I am your Master, to do with as I will.”

  Okay, so he’d been reading too many bad erotic novels, or, more likely watching too much lousy BDSM porn online, but at least he was trying. The guy was sincere, if a little overbearing, and he appeared to be nearly as into her as he was into himself.

  He pounded away, his breath rasping in his throat, his heart thumping beneath his sweat-slicked skin. His stroke was good now, tapping at her sweet spot from the inside out. Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough?

  “Come on, slave girl,” he gasped. “I can feel it—you’re almost there. No one can resist Master Gene. Come for me. I order you to come.” He swiveled and thrust, urgency radiating from him like heat. “Do it. Now.”

  Give him what he wants. You can do it. Meg Ryan has nothing on you.

  Allie moaned and arched her hips upward. She began to pant. “Oh, oh, oh, oh! Yes, yes, yes!” She shuddered and stiffened, gripping him hard with her thighs. She squinted through slitted eyelids to peer at his face looming over hers. His eyes were squeezed shut, his head thrown back, the tendons on his neck distended as he hammered her into the mattress. She continued to sigh and moan in syncopated rhythm to his orgasmic cries.

  Finally he lay still, the steady beat of his heart against hers the only sign of life. He was heavy and limp on top of her. The tip of Allie’s nose was itchy and her right calf was cramping. She longed to shove him off her. She wished fervently the ropes around her now chafed wrists would miraculously evaporate. She desperately needed a shower and a cold drink, preferably something eighty proof.

  Allie closed her eyes and uttered a small, silent wish: disappear.

  It didn’t work.

  Finally he lifted himself on his elbows and peered down into her face. “Hey, you. You alive? I told you I’d make you come. Master Gene knows how to treat a sub girl, huh?” He grinned, the pride evident on his handsome face.

  Allie smiled back and sighed, letting him interpret the sound as she knew he would. “Oh, yeah,” she breathed. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “You’re welcome, sub girl.”

  “Come on. I don’t want to go alone. It’s a really cool new private dungeon in Newton and the party starts at nine. You know I don’t like to drive at night.”

  “Newton? I didn’t know they went in for things like that in the suburbs.”

  “Hey, Boston doesn’t have a monopoly on BDSM, just because you never like to leave the city,” Lauren retorted, though she was grinning. “It’ll be fun. You could invite that guy you met at that munch thing, what was his name? He was a real hunk. Reminded me of Justin Timberlake. Total masturbatory material.” Without giving Allie a chance to reply, Lauren continued in her rapid patter, “It’s half price cover for single women, and I heard this dungeon has super high tech, state-of-the-art equipment. Yeah, it’s kind of a haul, but my car gets great gas mileage. I’ll even pay your cover if you’re short on funds. Please? Please say yes. I don’t want to go alone.” Lauren leaned forward eagerly, her expression comically beseeching.

  The waitress came by with their salads and glasses of wine. Allie waited until she’d served them and moved away. “That hunk you referred to is named Gene. We’ve been talking all week on Facebook. He does have experience in the scene and as far as I could tell wasn’t secretly married or gay or anything. We actually hooked up last night.”

  “Last night? Oh my god, Allie! O-M-fucking-G! You hooked up? Where? Your place? His? A hotel? And you didn’t even tell me? Was it fabulous? Was he hot? Did he look as good naked as he did in black leather? Why didn’t you call me immediately?”

  Allie laughed, at once exasperated and amused by her best friend. She finished chewing a mouthful of salad, took a sip of her wine and then replied. “I didn’t tell you yet because you haven’t stopped talking since we sat down. He came to my place. He was good, as far as it went.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning he was very good, technically speaking, with the ropes and the flogger, but it was pretty clear for him it was all just foreplay. Like he had a check list of things to do to me so that he could fuck me at the end.” Allie held up her hand, using an invisible pen to make checkmarks in the air. “Tie her up? Check. Apply the nipple clamps? Check. Say sexy, dominant things that will get her wet? Check. Smack her ass a bit? Check. Bring out the big scary flogger? Check.”

  Lauren laughed out loud, and Allie, in spite of herself, joined in.

  “I’m sorry. I’m being really mean. The guy was perfectly nice. There just wasn’t that connection, you know? That spark.”

  Lauren nodded supportively, reminding Allie why she was her best friend.

  Allie took another long swallow of her wine and continued, “He was into me, but I kind of got the feeling he was into the idea of me, more than me, if you know what I mean? He was The Dom and I was The Sub and we were Doing a Scene. I was an extension of him, of his ego, of Master Gene, Dom extraordinaire.” Allie lowered her voice as she said Master Gene, drawing quotations around the words with her fingers.

  Lauren g
iggled and then sighed. “Sounds depressingly familiar.”

  Allie shrugged. “At least he was good eye candy while he performed his masterful repertoire. He’s definitely got a killer bod. He has a complex workout regime that I got to hear about in excruciating detail.”

  Lauren wrinkled her nose in sympathy. “The really hot ones can be a little too into themselves, right? But if he’s a real Dom, you can overlook it. I mean”—she hugged herself and closed her eyes, her expression wistful—”I’d give anything to meet Mister Right. I mean Master Right.”

  She opened her eyes, her expression once more earnestly beseeching. “That’s why I want to go to this play party tomorrow night. Martin Haller is going to be there. I heard through the grapevine he broke up with that Lisa chick, and I’ll be there, ready and willing to be his rebound sub girl. You should definitely go. You never know, your Master Right could be there, too, waiting to sweep you off your feet and into his dungeon.”

  “Oh, right,” Allie said, letting sarcasm drip through her words. “Like Master Right is really going to be waiting for me at a private dungeon in Newton, Massachusetts. I probably have a better chance to win the lottery.”

  It was Lauren’s turn to shrug. “Hey, you know what they say. You gotta be in it to win it.”

  Allie blew out a sigh of defeat, though she couldn’t help but smile at her friend. “Okay, okay, Lauren. I’ll go with you.”

  Allie sat at the juice bar of Spanked, already wishing she hadn’t come. She knew she was sending off leave me alone vibes, which had to be why no one had approached her in the half hour or so she’d been brooding at the bar.

  Lauren, of course, had immediately gravitated to Martin Haller, whom she’d spotted the moment they’d entered the party. She was now happily ensconced in a private scene room with the guy, no doubt having a blast. Allie envied Lauren, who seemed to sail happily from relationship to relationship, always remaining good friends with prior lovers when she invariably broke up with them.

  When Allie had first discovered BDSM in her early twenties, she had been excited to explore the passion of erotic submission. At first she’d been certain she’d finally found that missing link—the thing that would allow her to truly connect with another human being. And while she’d come to crave the intensity and release of erotic suffering and submissive sex, the thick wall of ice around her heart had never fully thawed. Secretly she worried she was broken—incapable of love, destined to remain alone.

  “Can I buy you a drink?”

  Allie looked up to see a guy of around fifty with a craggy face and deep-set, very blue eyes. He was dressed in the requisite black leather vest and pants, a rather unattractive bulge of fat showing below the vest, which wasn’t quite long enough or large enough to hide it. Even though it was a size too small, Allie recognized the quality of the leather and the workmanship. The heavy, gold watch on his wrist probably cost more than she earned in a month.

  “Oh, thanks, that’s okay. I have one.” She held up the clear plastic cup of orange juice over ice. No liquor was allowed at this particular BDSM play party, which was probably good practice, though Allie would have loved a double scotch on the rocks about now.

  Unperturbed, the man slid onto the stool beside her and dropped his gear bag at his feet. He gestured to the bartender, a forty-something woman dressed in a sheer black lace dress that clearly revealed her heavy, bare breasts beneath it. “I’ll have a tonic with lime, please,” he said. Turning back toward Allie, he smiled broadly. “Bob’s the name. Master Bob to those lucky few. What’s your name, pretty girl?”

  “Allie,” Allie replied, resisting the urge to tell the guy she wasn’t interested. She had come to this party, after all. It wasn’t his fault she would rather be home watching the latest episode of Ray Donovan. She managed a return smile.

  The bartender set Bob’s drink on the bar, took his money and turned away. Bob glanced furtively around the room, then reached into his bag and pulled out a small silver flask. He unscrewed the lid and brought his cup below bar level. With quick efficiency, he poured a healthy amount into the tonic.

  Still keeping the flask below the bar, he held it out in Allie’s direction. “Want to add a little zip to that OJ? Tanqueray gin.”

  Allie started automatically to refuse, but then hesitated. She had already decided she wasn’t in the mood to hook up with anyone tonight, and one drink wouldn’t hurt while she waited for Lauren to finish her scene. “Sure.” She brought her cup below the bar. “Thanks.”

  Bob poured a few jiggers of the liquor into her cup, resealed the flask and slipped it back into his bag. He lifted his plastic cup in the air. “Cheers.”

  They touched cups and each took a swallow. The orange juice now packed a powerful punch and was, Allie had to admit, a definite improvement. She took another swallow. “Thanks.”

  Bob nodded. “No problem.” He swiveled his stool so he was facing her. “So, tell me, Allie. You been in the scene long?”

  “A couple of years,” Allie said noncommittally. “How about you?”

  Bob sat straighter and puffed out his chest. “Twenty-five plus. I’m a very experienced Dom. I have my own fully equipped dungeon in my basement.”

  “Impressive,” Allie replied, stifling a yawn.

  Bob nodded, his expression suddenly eager. “Want to blow this Popsicle stand and come see? I sense you’re a submissive. I don’t see a collar, so I’m assuming you’re footloose and fancy free. I’d dearly love to send you flying. No strings, no sex unless you want it. What do you say?”

  Allie had to laugh as she shook her head. “You don’t waste any time, huh, Bob? You just cut right to the chase.”

  “I believe in being direct. Life’s short, you know? No time like the present. Seize the day. All that good stuff. So?” He touched her arm. His fingers were damp.

  She resisted the urge to pull away, not wanting to hurt the guy’s feelings. “I’m sorry. I’m with someone. They’re engaged in a scene right now, but we came together. Maybe another time, Bob.”

  She’d left the gender of whom she was with purposely vague, hoping Bob would assume it was a guy. It appeared he did, because he frowned and said, “What kind of idiot would leave a hot girl like you at the bar while he scened with someone else?”

  When Allie didn’t reply, he added, “Okay, fine. Let’s you and me go into a private scene room then, okay?” He hoisted his gear bag onto his lap. “What are you into? Whipping? Candle wax? Doctor/patient role-play? Whatever you want, babe, I’ll give it to you. Master Bob will make all your fantasies come true.”

  She had to give the guy an A for effort. She shouldn’t have let Lauren talk her into this. She needed to learn to say no. She would start practicing right now. “I’m sorry, Bob. Not tonight.”

  Bob blew out a breath, reached for his gin and tonic and downed the remainder of it in one long gulp. “Fine, fine. I get it. You’re just not interested. Can’t blame a guy for trying, right?”

  Allie smiled. “Thanks for understanding. It’s not you, it’s me.” God, how many times had she said that in her life? The sad thing was, it was true more often than not. “My head’s just not in the right place tonight.”

  “I get it.” Bob gestured toward the bartender and nodded at his glass. She appeared in front of him a moment later and poured more tonic into his cup, adding a slice of lime. Once she had gone, Bob performed his operation below the bar again, pouring gin into his drink. He held out the flask toward Allie, who shook her head no.

  Bob put his elbows on the bar and stared moodily into space. “You should be with a younger guy anyhow,” he said, after downing nearly half of his second drink. “I’m probably old enough to be your dad. What are you, twenty-five? Twenty-six?”

  “Thirty last week,” Allie said, still a little stunned to realize she’d hit thirty and was still alone.

  “And you’re here with a guy who scenes with other women?” Bob queried, his bushy eyebrows raised.

  “A girl,�
� Allie admitted. “My friend, Lauren. She needed a ride.”

  “Ah, I see,” Bob said. “That makes more sense, then. Though I can’t for the life of me understand why someone so beautiful is unattached.”

  Allie smiled. “Well, thanks. I guess I just haven’t found the right guy.”

  “The right Master,” Bob said.

  Allie nodded. “Yeah, that too.”

  “Hard to meet folks at these parties and those lame munches, am I right? You end up getting hit on by old dudes like me.” Bob laughed.

  Allie smiled ruefully. “It is hard. Boston’s a huge city, but the BDSM community is pretty small. Pretty insular.”

  “Agreed. Hey, you know what you should do?” Bob turned toward her once more, his face animated.

  “What’s that?” Was he going to try another come-on line? God, she hoped not.

  “You should try the internet.”

  Allie laughed. “The internet? That’s the worst place to meet guys. They’re all liars and scammers. Players.”

  “I hear ya. But I’m not talking about the free sites. I’m talking about a particular site I think would meet your needs. It’s a hundred dollars for the first month, and then thirty dollars a month after that. I admit, kind of steep, but ultimately that’s a good thing, because it weeds out the riff-raff, the players, you know?”

  Allie opened her mouth to dismiss Bob’s idea out of hand, but he stopped her with a hand over hers. “No, wait. Hear me out. It’s a relatively new site, and, I don’t mind admitting, it’s one of my pet projects. I hired the best tech guys to make it a reality, and there’s a full-time moderator to keep the place real. The site has really taken off since it went live three months ago. A young woman like you would have her pick of Doms from all over the country, I guarantee.”

  He pulled a small card out of his back pocket and placed it on the bar in front of Allie. It read BDSMConnections – a discreet site for discerning individuals serious about the scene and listed a website address. Allie glanced from the card to Bob. Had his whole spiel to this point been nothing more than a sales pitch? Still, she had to admit, the idea of a legit BDSM site appealed to her.