Deliverance (NYC Doms Book 1)

by Jane Henry

  When Seth takes my hand, he speaks less enthusiastically. “Diana,” he says with a curt nod of his head. “First time guest here?”

  “No,” I say, not exactly sure how to respond. “I’ve been here once before.” The last time, I wasn’t a guest but I did get my ass paddled, so what does that make me?

  “Hear anything from Zack?” Tobias asks, clearly changing the subject.

  Seth shakes his head and sighs. “No, man. Wish I did. Need to end this shit before it gets out of hand.”

  Rochelle speaks quietly. “Two injured, Seth? It’s already out of hand.”

  He looks at her sharply, but she stands her ground. “I know what you mean, honey, and I’m not contradicting you. Just saying, this was out of hand the first night.”

  His jaw clenches. Geez, some of these guys have authority complexes. But then, with a nod, he agrees. “That’s a fair point.” He turns back to Tobias. “We’re heading out for the night. All good on the main, little scuffle by the bar but Travis nipped that in the bud. Brax is monitoring in the dungeon, only one private room in use, and all else quiet.”

  Tobias says good-bye as Seth and Rochelle take their leave. They’re like soldiers reporting for duty, briefing each other on the status of their watch.

  As we continue to walk down the hall to the bar, Tobias explains his philosophy. “This is more than just a club,” he says. “If I ran a normal club, I’d do the normal things. Check to make sure we have supplies, bills are paid, the atmosphere is welcoming. I’d make sure members are happy, and I’d see what we could do for marketing and the like.” He stops outside the door to the bar. “This is different. We do not advertise. We do no marketing of any kind. Members come here strictly by word of mouth. They’re vetted and approved on a one-on-one basis. My staff undergoes rigorous training and background checks. We ask a lot of them, and we pay amply in return.” He pauses a moment, turns to face me, placing a finger under my chin. I swallow and focus on not moving my gaze away from his, the reminder to focus on him makes my breath catch.

  “What goes on in this club is highly charged, Diana. We call it Verge for a reason. Members who come here to play are on the verge of so many things, and it’s our job to fulfill their needs. Emotions run high. Danger is always present and flirting with danger can be hot as hell. Gotta make sure it doesn’t veer into real danger. And this week, thanks to some asshole who gets off on violating women, two women have been victims of sexual assault and somehow my club’s name is involved.” His jaw clenches. “I take the running of this place very, very seriously.”

  I swallow hard. “I’m glad you do. People should feel safe in a place like this.” His protective attitude resonates with me.

  Caveman, my mind protests.

  So what? I protest back.

  He nods, and to my surprise, he leans over and places a gentle kiss on my forehead, making my belly warm, and a tingle spread along my neck, before he tugs my hand and leads me to the bar.

  The room is far busier than it had been last night, both pool tables are occupied, and nearly every seat at the bar taken. Three bartenders pour drinks at breakneck speed. “Drinks are limited,” Tobias says. “Alcohol can enhance the experience but dims the senses, and we don’t like to encourage members to over-indulge.”

  “Makes sense,” I say. “So what’s my limit?”

  “You’re with me, so your limit will be determined by me,” he says.

  Really?

  “What if I don’t like that?” The snap in my voice takes me by surprise. He turns to me, both brows raised, his face a mask.

  “Excuse me?”

  “What if I don’t like that… restriction?” I push.

  His jaw tightens. “Seems we need that private talk sooner than later.”

  He lifts a hand to greet the bartenders, who all nod to him, and as he walks, people sit up straighter, a low hum of interest buzzing through the crowd. A woman who’d been jostling her friend and laughing turns sober at the sight of Tobias. His presence commands respect.

  Somehow, inexplicably, the way his power affects others makes my naked thighs damp with arousal. God! Yet my nerves churn as I look toward the private rooms. I don’t regret my question. It was an honest one, and I’m within my rights to ask. I agreed to go on a date with him. Thanks to Beatrice’s shenanigans, I am sans panties, and I’ve called him sir on several occasions. Still, knowing he is going to take me to a private room makes my mouth go dry and my legs go wobbly.

  “Travis,” Tobias greets, with a signature chin lift. The bartender I met before, with the slow, easy drawl, gives him a chin lift back in greeting. “Had a situation?” Tobias asks.

  Travis pulls a beer and slides it on the bar to a man who waits, wearing a leather vest over his bare chest. I bite the inside of my mouth, stifling a grin. Fascinating choice of attire.

  “All handled, boss,” Travis says. “Couple ‘a doms gettin’ too big for their britches by the pool table. One thought it proper he bust the ass of a sub with the pool stick.” Tobias growls, a low hum I feel in my lady parts. “Brax stepped in and stopped that on his way to the dungeon. Dumbass number one comes up to the counter and orders a drink, dumbass number two comes back and words got heated, started shovin’ each other like a buncha pre-schoolers on a fuckin’ playground. I pulled ‘em apart and called Geoff to give the men their escorted exit.”

  “Who the fuck was it?”

  “Some local professor, if you can believe it. And the other guy I didn’t know, Brax said he was a regular but hasn’t been here in a while.”

  Tobias nods. “Travis, you remember Diana. She’s with me tonight. We need some time in a private room. You need anything, you call Brax or Geoff, they need anything, call me. Otherwise, I’m off duty the rest of the night.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  Tobias wraps a possessive hand around my elbow, his firm touch making my belly dip for the millionth time tonight. He holds me with conviction and ownership, the very touch making me feel more alive than I have in years. “Shit gets hectic after ten,” he says in my ear. “Better get you to some privacy before it gets too rowdy in here.”

  Well then.

  We move past the crowd and continue to march toward the private room, passing by the dungeon. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the place where he spanked me, and my ass clenches with the memory. I swallow hard and keep stride with him.

  “Private rooms aren’t reserved for just anyone,” he explains. “Only long-term members are allowed reservations.”

  “Makes sense,” I say in a rickety voice. “Then why are you taking me? You don’t know yet if I’m someone who practices safe, sane, and consensual.”

  He smirks. “Because I run this place, I can already read you, and…” he pauses, taking out a set of keys from his pocket and sliding a large silver key into the lock. He pushes the door open, giving me a small smile, “…it’s my job to keep things safe and sane. And you granted me the consent in spades.”

  I can’t look him in the eyes. It’s too embarrassing.

  He takes my hand and points to an overstuffed chair in one corner of the room. The lights are dim but a lamp on a table flicks on when he hits a switch inside the door. “Go to the loveseat and wait for me.”

  Is this how it’ll be now? He issues commands and I obey? Or does he just act like this when he’s in Verge? Am I just supposed to listen to him and nod like a little puppet? Frowning, I do what he says and perch on the edge of the loveseat.

  I hear him behind me, straightening things out and examining the contents of the room before returning to me. I look around the room. In one corner is a huge, king-sized bed with a curtain surrounding it, and what looks like a very sturdy headboard with circular rings attached in each corner. I swallow, my eyes traveling to a bedside table with a black velvet bag laid on top, and in one corner of the room, I see a small, opened doorway, but I can’t see beyond it. A desk flanks one wall, with a high-backed wooden chair pushed up against it, and
on the desk a silver tray sits laden with matches, feathers, and something else I can’t quite identify. A tin of mints or something? A huge fireplace sits exactly opposite the bed, and to the right of the fireplace, near to where I’m sitting, is a black leather recliner with a pile of fluffy blankets. I blink. The room is gorgeous, clearly meant for an extended stay of some sort, and decked out for all sorts of… fun. I can see why only seasoned members are allowed entry.

  I continue to take in every detail—the burgundy walls, framed prints edged in gilded silver, a soft stream of music filtered above me, a low, melodic blend of instrumental music. I watch Tobias slide a remote onto the desk where he stands. He picks up the matches and strikes one. The room soon fills with the scent of fire and vanilla. My legs tremble, as if watching him prepare the room is some sort of foreplay. He takes our coats and hangs them on a hook in a small closet, then I watch as he shrugs out of his suit jacket, hangs it on the back of the chair by the desk, and makes his way over to me.

  He sits on the other end of the loveseat, so close our knees are touching. “Do you have any questions, Diana?”

  I swallow, rubbing my damp hands on my thighs, and look about the room. “I have so many I’m not sure where to begin,” I whisper.

  “Start with the room,” he suggests. “Look around and ask me anything that might make you curious.” I look around again.

  “Ok, well, for starters, what’s that tin on the desk?”

  “Those are strong peppermints. I like to use them in situations that get intense. The mints have a calming effect.”

  “Oh. And why such a large pile of blankets? This room is warm but small, and that pile seems excessive.”

  “Sensation play is a very real kink for some of our members. One of those blankets is made to aid in sensation play. One side is soft and velvety, the other rougher. Also, submissives can sometimes drop after a scene—they might be cold, in sub-space after a session. The blankets help regulate body temperature.”

  I feel my eyes go wide. “And the… the rings on the bed posts?” I whisper. Clearly, I haven’t been reading the right websites or something.

  He smiles. “Those rings are used for a variety of purposes. I use them to hold restraints, mostly, as a modified whipping post. I like my submissives to be restrained if it’s going to be an intense session.”

  My breath comes out in a shaky whisper, and I swear my womb convulses. “Whipping?”

  Without blinking, his face sobering, he nods. “Yes.”

  “I don’t know if I’d like that.”

  “And that, Diana, brings us to why I brought you here.”

  My heartbeat kicks up. He brought me here… why? Suddenly, I realize what a foolish thing I’ve done. If he tries to take advantage of me, how would I get out? We’re isolated. The rooms are sound-proof.

  “And,” I clear my throat. “Why would that be?”

  “Because we need to have a talk. In the lobby or foyer area before we get to the bar, couples are encouraged to talk about limits, consent, and safewords before they ever enter. I didn’t do that with you since I had no interest in scening with you, until you defied me.”

  Hearing his words makes me squirm uncomfortably on my seat. “Oh?” I clear my throat.

  He nods, still sitting a good distance away. “Yes. But now that we’re here, and you’ve shown an interest, there are things we need to talk about.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like what interests you and doesn’t. What your hard limits are. What things you’d want to try and what things you wouldn’t?”

  I swallow, wishing I’d gotten a drink from the bar. “I… I’m willing to try… anything… once.”

  “Okay then. For now, you have the house safeword, which is the name of the club. I go too far, you say Verge, play immediately stops.”

  “Got it.”

  “Really willing to try anything?”

  “Well yes. Maybe not the hardcore pain stuff… yet? Even if it’s something that I don’t find arousing or interesting, I’ll try it. I mean I had no idea I’d get turned on by getting spanked, but there it is.”

  “Did you?”

  “Did I… what?”

  His voice lowers, his eyes heating. “Get turned on.”

  I swallow. “Well, yes. Doesn’t everyone? I thought I was normal or something. At least based on what I read online.”

  He smirks. “You can read anything online to convince you of whatever you want to hear.”

  I frown and pull away from him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Hey, you don’t have to get defensive. Basically, means that yeah, some people get turned on and some don’t.” His eyes sober, and he crosses his arms on his chest. “And I wouldn’t have asked you on a date if I didn’t know with certainty that you are the kinda girl that does.”

  Both embarrassment and a sort of pleasure flood me simultaneously, and I’m not sure how to respond. “You mean—you wouldn’t—be interested in dating me if I wasn’t a girl who got off on spanking?”

  He shakes his head sharply. “Of course not.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous.”

  He frowns. “Why is that ridiculous?”

  “Because there are so many perfectly… reasonable… healthy women out there who are not into this, or so you say yourself, and you wouldn’t even give them a chance?”

  “Diana.” His voice is patient but stern. “In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m the kinda guy that gets off on control. I’m the kinda guy that gets off on power. I have no interest in pursuing a relationship with a woman who isn’t able to fulfill that need of mine.”

  Fulfill… a need. And oh no, wait. Pursue a relationship?

  I let that sit for a minute.

  “Any other questions?”

  “What’s in the velvet bag?”

  “It’s filled with tools. Handpicked implements and other things I wanted to have on hand.”

  I feel my jaw go slack. “How did you pick them?”

  “I placed an order,” he says with a shrug. “I have people who work for me.”

  “What made you think that I wanted to… play… with any of those things?”

  “You said yes to a date. To a date with a man who identifies as a self-professed dom.”

  “Maybe I just think you’re cute.”

  His eyes wrinkle at the edges. “Maybe. My gut says otherwise.”

  “Are you always right?”

  “Most of the time.”

  “How arrogant.”

  “Not gonna argue otherwise.”

  I look around the room once more. “And the door. What does it lead to?”

  “A fully equipped, very comfortable bathroom should the need arise on any level.”

  “I see.”

  My chest rises and falls while I breathe in and out. I take deep, cleansing breaths so I can think clearly. “Okay, so… I have a very pressing question that I can’t hold back anymore. It’s important, Tobias… sir.”

  He nods soberly. “Yes?”

  “How am I… how can we… proceed with any type of relationship if I owe you money for what I did?”

  He nods slowly. “And that’s the other reason I brought you here tonight. I wanted to offer you a proposition.”

  My thighs clench together, already knowing that the proposition has my interest. “Oh?” My voice is a husky whisper.

  “Yes. I got the estimate for the damage to my car.”

  I listen, not wanting to interrupt. He continues. “I’m afraid to tell you the cost.” In a rush of words, he tells me.

  I close my eyes briefly at the number. “That’s half of what it would’ve cost otherwise,” he explains, “But that’s the best they could do.”

  It will take me a year or more to pay him. It will take forever. And I’ll have to skip the vacation Chad and I are planning for spring break. Maybe sell some of my things.

  “What’s your proposition?” I whisper.

  “You may pa
y me in other ways.”

  Was he thinking what I was?

  “Like… sexual favors? I’m not that kind of girl, Tobias, and if you think that —”

  “And I’m not that kinda guy, babe.” His jaw tightens once more. “Not sexual favors, no. But I’m going to give you the chance, tonight, right now, to make amends for the damage against my property. I’ll punish you. And once we’re done, we’ll consider your infraction wiped clean.”

  My breasts swell, and I shift on the couch to hide the arousal that courses through me at hearing him say punish you.

  “How will you punish me?” I whisper, looking back at the ominous bag that sits lifeless on the table.

  “Over my lap,” he says, patting his knee, the gesture making my squirm. “With my hand. You behaved like a child, so I’ll punish you like one.”

  “So I don’t have to like, suck your cock, or something like that?”

  His eyes narrow, and he literally growls.

  “Okay, okay,” I say. “So how long do I have to think about this?”

  “Offer stands indefinitely. Pay me back if you want. Or lie over my lap, and take your punishment. I don’t care if you wait six months and pay me halfway then decide to pay off the remainder with your ass.”

  “Well, that’s fair enough,” I agree amicably, then, “no wait.”

  He waits.

  “Do we get this in writing or something?”

  “I can do that if you want.”

  His implacable patience unnerves me. Does the man ever lose his cool? Well, other than when a drunk chick is keying his car… he was pretty impatient with me then.

  “Okay, then, alright,” I agree, nodding.

  His eyes widen in surprise. “You’ve decided?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I’ll—I’ll take my punishment. And when I’m done, my slate is clean?”

  “Exactly.”

  A little spanking and I’ll pay off the debt? It’s a no-brainer. The last spanking he gave me wasn’t that bad. Plus, the idea of straddling Tobias’s sturdy thighs appeals immensely. It’s not like he’s putting me in the stocks or anything. Getting over his lap would be hot.