by Livia Grant
He was big, tall, and as Klara had so succinctly put it — a spectacular asshole.
Grinning into the glass, he swallowed another mouthful of the bourbon and enjoyed the sweet burn as it slid down. The tables were starting to fill up, and a few men had gathered at one side of the stage. That was where he’d be standing in a few minutes, but the men weren’t where his gaze lingered… it was the women on the other side of the stage.
Finally, he knew who he might be playing with tonight. They hadn’t all arrived yet, but he felt the thrill in his blood that one of them would be his. His to torment, his to pleasure, his to own for the night.
Spencer had been right, this was exactly what he’d needed.
Chapter 2
Bianca felt impatient as the first round of couples finished — male-male, female-female, and even a Femdom who was wearing a leather sheath dress that she totally wanted to ask the woman about. That, and those knee-high boots. Then, before Chase could get everything going again, a girl fainted while talking to some of the Doms waiting to spin. It was a little too dramatic as monitors from across the club rushed to help. Lucky for the girl there was a hottie already scooping her up to walk toward the recovery rooms. Still, the damsel in distress had delayed the spins for the main event even further, which was irritating.
She just wanted to get going, to find out who she’d have for the night.
Finally, Chase seemed to recover and he beckoned the Doms on stage. Bianca watched as the men took their place, and she couldn’t help but smirk. There were quite a few tall doms, but most of them she’d be able to look in the eyes in her heels, and there was one or two she might even be an inch above.
But if they couldn’t handle her height, then they definitely wouldn’t be able to handle her attitude, because weak doms didn’t do it for her. She pushed just to see if they’d push back, put her in her place, act like the kind of alpha male dominant that deserved her submission. And after the hellish start to her week bossing around angry tech guys and mouthy engineers she needed someone strong so she could let go.
Unfortunately, the candidates that fit that description seemed to be slim, and the odds were not in her favor. Just her luck she’d sign up for this and get spanked all night by someone too nervous to even finger fuck her.
Rolling her eyes, she half-listened as the first couples were paired off. The very first activity rolled was pet play and she was doubly glad she’d added it to her limit list — crawling on the floor with a leash? That was a hard no.
“Bianca,” Chase announced her name over the mic and she was surprised. Then she saw the man standing beside the roulette wheel. He looked like a Viking that had joined a gang at age four. Bright blond hair shining in the stage lights and dark ink coiling up his throat. The black button-down was stretched across a broad chest, and she felt a tingle between her thighs even as she recognized him. Silas.
Garreth was holding his hand out for her at the top of the stairs, and she climbed up winking at the dungeon monitor before she walked confidently toward the wheels, eyes locked on Silas’ pale blues. “Well, well…” she purred as she stepped closer, still a few inches shorter than the bastard. “I know all about you, Silas.”
His eyebrow twitched as he smiled, but it more closely resembled a wolf baring its teeth than an actual smile. “I don’t know what entertains me more… you thinking you know me, or me getting to put you in your place tonight.”
Chase laughed, looking between them with the kind, carefree attitude he seemed to always have. “This looks like a fun pair, everyone. Bianca, you’ll choose the activity.”
As Emma handed her the ball, she gave her cockiest smirk and kept her eyes on Silas. “Oh, please, let it be tickling. That would be so much fun.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, and she saw the shadow pass over his face as his smile disappeared.
“Drop the fucking ball,” he growled, and she felt her pussy clench at the open aggression and hunger in his tone. This might actually be fun.
Rolling the ball between her fingertips as the wheel spun below, she waited just long enough for a muscle to twitch in his tattooed neck, and then she delicately dropped it. It clattered, just out of sight, but she wasn’t going to be the one to break this staring contest. Not with this gangbanger Viking trying to intimidate her. He’d have to do more than just glower to have her whimpering.
“Flogging!” Chase announced, and they both smiled as he passed Silas her limit card. “And it looks like they’re happy with the choice, everyone! If you’ll join the others we’ve got a lot more couples to pair up!”
Silas tucked the little card away and held out his hand, but when she reached to take it, he moved and clamped his hand on the back of her neck instead. The hard grip sent an electric rush through her skin and she gasped as he moved them to the men’s side of the stage and down the stairs. It didn’t hurt, but it was turning her on.
She was still smiling when he stopped them just outside the outer ring of tables, and then he turned her to face him, digging his fingers in just a little harder. Bianca lifted her chin and spoke in a soft, mocking voice. “Oh no, a flogger? That sounds scary, Silas.”
He huffed and looked her up and down, slowly moving his eyes over the curves accentuated by her corset. “You’ve never been flogged by me, and for the night you’ll refer to me as Sir and nothing else. Understand?”
A low, pulsing heat had taken up residence deep inside and she had the distinct urge to squeeze her thighs together. “Yes, Sir,” she answered, but she didn’t drop the mocking tone.
“I think you need to be on your knees while we wait for everyone to finish their spins.” His grip adjusted into her hair and he forced her down into a kneel. Just as she was about to speak he leaned down and rubbed a thumb roughly over her lips, likely smudging her lipstick. Asshole. “No. No more talking.”
“And what if—” She started to speak, but then his thumb pushed between her lips and he held her chin hard, fingers digging into the soft skin beneath as he pressed that thumb into the flesh under her tongue.
“There is no what if, Bianca. You’re going to obey me tonight, and if you’re a good girl I may even make you come over and over until you’re begging me to stop.” He smirked. “After I’ve made you scream.”
Dazed and impossibly aroused, she simply stared up at him when he released her completely, swaying slightly forward on her knees when the intensity of his touch, his gaze, abandoned her. Silas was watching the stage, but she was getting an eyeful of the growing bulge behind his dark jeans. Most of the other men on stage were in suits, or dress shirts and slacks, but Silas had shown up to the event in a regular, black button down, dark jeans, and big boots. He didn’t give a fuck, and she’d seen him enough times before to know it was true. In the summer he’d shown up in just a t-shirt and jeans, and it had been impossible to not look at the tattoos covering both arms.
All Bianca could think about was convincing him to take his shirt off so she could see just how much ink he had, and what it looked like, and possibly get a good look at the muscles clearly filling out his shirt. When her eyes roved downward again she paused at his belt buckle and admitted she was thinking about what he was hiding behind his zipper too.
Cock hungry already, Bianca? Calm the fuck down.
It seemed to take forever for the other couples to get paired off, and by the end of it Bianca was bored with waiting to find out what Silas might do. He’d started off well, but underneath the badass vibe he might be too much of a pussy to follow through on his threat to make her scream.
Even though that seemed unlikely based on his reputation.
Finally, she heard Chase announce, “That’s the last couple! Let Roulette Redux begin! And remember, our dungeon monitors are available for any assistance you may need.”
“Get up. I know where I want you.” Silas’ fist was back in her hair, sending stings across her scalp as he pulled her upright and started to move them fast across the floor of Black Light. She strug
gled a little to keep up with his long stride in the heels, and she muttered a curse when he stopped near the raised platform where a St. Andrew’s Cross was installed. “Up, now.”
He unwound his fist from her hair and she walked up the stairs, being sure to sway her hips with every step. When she turned, she caught his gaze lingering near her ass before he met her eyes.
“I didn’t hear a yes, Sir. That’s one.”
“One what?”
“That’s two.”
Bianca laughed before she could stop herself, and the glower Silas gave her simultaneously made her nervous and excited. She couldn’t help but bait him further. “You’re already going to flog me, so exactly what are you counting, Sir?”
He tilted his head a little, the ink at his throat stretching and compressing. “Stay right there while I get what I need.” Silas turned away and then paused and looked back at her. “Oh, and that was three.”
She watched him as he walked across the floor to the wall of implements, but he hid his selections with his bulk as she crossed her arms and waited. Others were finding their places, some jumping right in, and a few had moved to the bar to talk. Bianca laughed to herself, wondering what on earth there was to negotiate after the extensive list of rules the sign-up form had outlined. Then Silas appeared in her vision again.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, an edge to his voice.
“Nothing, Sir. Just entertained.” Bianca grinned down at him, watching as he leaned up from setting implements on the floor where she couldn’t see them.
“If you know so much about me, I’d expect you to be a little more concerned.”
She brushed her hair behind her ear, grin widening as he laid out the challenge. “And what if I’m not concerned?”
He was smirking a little, those pale, icy blue irises thinning as his pupils dilated. “Well, I can’t speak to your ineffective survival instincts, but you forgot Sir again. You’re up to four already.”
The urge to ask what the fuck he was counting was strong, but she chose to glare down at him silently instead.
“You’re learning. Now, strip.”
Sighing, she tugged at the edge of her corset. “Unless you want to this to take forever, you’re going to need to help me with that, Sir.”
“Gladly.” He moved up the steps, and for an instant they were eye to eye, but then he stepped onto the platform and she had to look up at him once more. “Turn around.”
Without a word, she obeyed and held on to the cross for support as she felt his fingers working at the ties. As a minute or two passed, she heard him curse, and laughed softly. “Having trouble?”
“That’s five, and did you really need to double-knot this? Or did you think you wouldn’t be naked if you made it this fucking frustrating?”
“Don’t you like a challenge, Sir?”
“Hmm,” he hummed an acknowledgement, and then she felt the ties begin to loosen as he tugged the corset open. Bianca held on to the cross to give him the leverage he needed to loosen the ties wide enough to remove it, and she had to admit she was a little disappointed that after all the time it took to get into it, she was immediately taking it off.
This flogging better be worth it.
“Arms up,” he commanded and she raised them so he could slide the corset up. Her nipples scraped along the interior and hit the cooler air of the room as hard pebbles. When she looked to the side, she appreciated the care he took to wind the ties inside the corset, fold it over, and then lay it carefully at the edge of the platform.
“Thank you, Sir.”
He paused, looking at her for a moment before he returned to her side. “It’s a nice piece, but personally I think you look better without it.” Reaching forward, he traced his fingers over the indentions the corset had left behind. Silas shook his head, as if he were breaking a trance, and then he quickly removed her skirt and black lace thong.
Bianca had to bite her tongue so she didn’t comment that it wasn’t necessary to remove the thong when he could easily flog her ass with it on, but then he was crouched beside her.
“Step out of the heels.”
“Oh, come on! I’m naked!”
He held onto her calf with one hand, the other holding the six-hundred-dollar shoe. “Six,” was his only response, and she grumbled as she slipped her foot free of one and then the other.
When he stood this time she really had to look up at him, and it made her want to tell him to fuck off, because she didn’t give a shit about being naked in front of everyone, she did care about him being an asshole for no reason.
“We both know you only wear these death traps to fuck with the Doms here, and, regardless, it’s not safe for you to be on the cross in heels.” Silas leaned forward, pressing his chest to her back as he crushed her against the wood. His lips were close to her ear when he spoke again, one hand running up her hip to her waist. “And that doesn’t work with me anyway, I’m still taller than you even in these things.”
Teeth nipping her shoulder, he stepped away, and she was breathless for an instant. All of that hard muscle had sent her pulse skyrocketing, and she’d barely paid attention to what he’d actually said. The heat between her thighs was turning into outright wetness, slick and needy, and she clenched wondering if she’d get to fuck this son of a bitch tonight. Because as frustrating as he was, he could probably deliver it hard and send her home aching.
“Get in position,” Silas commanded from her left, and she focused on the cross, lining her arms up with the leather straps, and spreading her stance out enough to be near the straps below. As soon as she spread her legs, she could smell her own arousal and it made a blush hit her cheeks.
Fucker hasn’t even picked up the flogger yet, and you’re already wet and waiting. Get it together, Bianca.
The girl didn’t have a single tattoo on her skin, but she did have the smoothest olive complexion that was only broken by the occasional tiny, dark mole. Like stars strung out across empty space, and it was tempting to try and play connect the dots with the floggers he’d brought over.
What constellations could he draw on her beautiful body?
After he strapped her wrist and forearm in place, he walked around the back of the cross to the other side, enjoying the way her breasts pressed against the wood. So many options. It was the best part of being a Dom, this moment of having a woman turn over control, allowing him to take it and create his own plan for the scene. As he tightened the cuffs on her right side, he smirked. “You’re up to seven.”
“What the fuck? How?” She snapped, turning to glare at him with dark brown eyes, fanned by long lashes.
“You didn’t say yes, Sir when I gave you a command, and that little outburst made it eight.” He stroked down her spine as he moved close again, his cock straining in his jeans. “And, trust me, girl… you do not want to keep adding to that number.”
Something in his voice made her eyes widen a moment, and she nodded. “Yes, Sir.” But her hips angled backwards, pushing her ass into his hand just the slightest amount, and for a flickering moment he wondered just how far he’d be able to push her. Making her say Red would end the fun for both of them, Chase had made that clear in his speech, but he wanted to play hard. Wanted to make her scream, and have her striped and crying.
Smeared mascara would pair so nicely with the smudged lipstick.
Crouching down he pulled her foot wider until he could attach the ankle cuff, and then he slid his fingers up her silken skin before doing the same to the other. When he stepped back he couldn’t deny the dark surge inside. She was stretched out, her dark waves shining in the bright lights, and all of that gorgeous skin was just the kind of blank canvas he loved to work with.
Let’s see what she can take.
Moving down the stairs he gathered the implements he’d chosen, and the hair tie he’d asked for from one of the DMs, and then made sure to place the implements along the edge where she wouldn’t be able to see them. Unbuttoning his shirt at the w
rists, he started to roll each sleeve up, revealing the dark ink on each arm. “Have you noticed your audience?”
Bianca leaned back from the cross to twist her head from side to side, taking in the voyeurs who had gathered outside of the pool of light from directly above. Their glasses caught the light, and he smiled as he roughly gathered her hair in a ponytail, yanking it hard so that she gasped prettily.
“They’re waiting to see how loud I make you scream,” he whispered against her ear, nipping the lobe. “Seems you’re not the only one who’s aware of my reputation. Now, what do you say?”
“Yes, Sir.” She ground out the words as he wound her hair into a loop at the back of her head so that it wouldn’t cover her shoulders.
“Then I don’t think we should disappoint them. If you’re thinking of safewording, say yellow. I don’t want our fun to end too soon.” Silas picked up the first flogger, stroking along the thick leather straps.
“It won’t be a problem, Sir. I’m into pain, and you don’t scare me.”
Adjusting his grip on the flogger he shook it out and moved to the right position. “Just remember to shout yellow before you tap out completely.”
Chapter 3
Clenching her fists, Bianca closed her eyes to the people that stood near the platform, preparing for the first blow, and then it hit. Heavy, hard, right across her ass, and she jolted forward into the cross with a gasp.
Silas wasn’t fucking around though, because the next landed just a little below, and it resembled the thudding swat of a paddle. He’d picked probably the heaviest flogger Black Light had, and as he moved to her thighs she flinched at the dull sting — but she kept her mouth shut. No cries, not for this.
The sounds of other women crying out, some in pain and some in pleasure, met her ears, but she had no plans on joining them any time soon. Silas was either going to rise to the occasion, or fizzle out like so many before him.